#that's determination and stubbornness and the result of training his body

[writingsbychlo]

focus | azriel

summary; you've had a bad day, and you're just trying to work out some of the stress before bed.

word count; 3729

notes; there is not even a semblance of plot here.

“You're not focusing!” Azriel’s voice echoed off of the stones of the training room, your eyes narrowing on him as you swung the sword again, drove your elbow up again, twisted at the angle he’d shown you again, and… and stumbled, again. He let out a ragged sigh, like his frustration was something comparable to yours, and at the sound, your final nerve seemed to fray away. 

“I didn’t ask you to be here, Azriel!” His eyes widened a little at your snap, and you through the wooden training sword down at his feet, shadows scattering like birds from trees as it dug into the sand and dirt of the ring floor. His eyes followed it, hands held tightly behind his back, and when his gaze returned to you, it had narrowed into a calculating glare. “You came up here and ruined my training session, and now you’re being a dick about it! I didn’t ask you for help, or guidance. This isn’t our weekly training session, so stop being such a prick!”

You hated the way your lower lip wobbled as your clamped your jaw shut, hated the burning in your eyes as tears threatened to spill over, but it had been the day from hell. Everything that could have gone wrong, did. And then, everything else seemed to follow suit. You’d been shouted at and looked down on and given the most crippling disappointed looks all day. You’d missed lunch and been starving, you’d almost missed dinner, your workload was behind, and to top it all off, you’d been soaked in the rain on your way back from the town. 

By the time you’d managed to just about winnow yourself up from the bottom of the mountain to the balcony, your knees had buckled as you’d fallen that short gap through the wards, resulting in a dull throb you knew would be worse by morning. With a full stomach of Cassian’s leftovers and a chill creeping along your spine that you really hoped wouldn't become a sickness, you’d fallen into bed. 

Only for sleep to escape you, tossing and turning for hours. 

You were at the end of your tether, and Azriel was only making it worse. The person who was usually so calm and collected, the man who normally helped you solve your problems, who would make you smile on days you didn’t think it possible and laugh when you shouldn’t be, was making it so much worse.

“I thought you were angry.”

“You thought wrong.” You sniped, deciding that you really didn’t have any strength left, any more witty comebacks, as tension roiled under your skin. You’d hoped that frustration at the day and the stress building up inside of you would be released through exercise, but it seemed to only be making it worse. You were so wound up that you stumbled, and tripped, and could barely think straight for the flying thoughts, making the feelings ten times worse than they had been when you’d stepped foot out here an hour ago. 

The stars were twinkling away in a clear night sky, the moon shining down, not a single trace of any of the storm clouds that had soaked you through hours ago, and you tried to calm yourself by looking out at the pretty picture. “I thought-”

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, alright?”

Spinning on your heel, you barely made it two steps before a darting shadow was whipping out, cold entity wrapping around your wrist in a daring move, as Azriel let out a dissatisfied sound behind you. “Don’t turn your back on me.”

“Excuse me?” There was that fire, that rage, that spark you thought had gone out today, reignited with indignation at the sound of his voice. When you spun again, he was closer, silent steps carrying him towards you with such determination you almost wanted to step back. Almost. Stubbornness kept you rooted to the spot, until he was stopping with merely a foot between your bodies.

“I said, don’t turn your back on me, I’m trying to talk to you.”

“No, you’re yelling at me, and making me feel even shittier about an already shitty day.” Golden eyes searched your own, a piercing stare that was hard to hold when you felt too small now, shadowed by his large frame, wings flexing each time they drooped low enough to touch the sands.

“Why are you really up here?” His murmur was soft, much nicer than the harsh shouting he’d been resorting to for at least the last thirty minutes, and a wash of comfort soothed over your skin, like cold water on a hot day. 

“What does it matter, Az? It’s not productive, we’re both wasting our time.”

“It matters, because I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.” His fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach out, before he was curling it into a fist by his side instead. “I thought you were angry. I thought you were up here trying to beat out your sensations on that punching bag, so I figured yelling was what you needed. I heard… the shadows say you’ve had a bad day. I thought tough love was what you needed.”

His throat bobbed as you stared up at him, his shoulders rising and falling scarcely an inch in a shrug you’d not have even noticed if you weren’t standing so close to him. “I’m not angry, Azriel. I’m stressed. I had a shitty day, and none of it was my fault but I got all the blame. I was cold, and wet, and hungry. When I decided to just sleep it all away, I couldn’t even do that. I’m not mad, I’m just tense.”

He nodded, bright eyes sweeping over you once, assessing. You allowed yourself to do the same, though you were sure it wasn’t for the same reasons. He’d forgone the usual training gloves, leather with cut-off fingertips, bare skin trailing up from scarred hands to smooth flesh over his arms, across biceps that seemed to bulge even when he relaxed. All the way up, to the hastily cut-off sleeves of a tank top, flowing so loosely you could see traces of the swirling black ink across his chest with each tiny movement, and you choked down thickly, before diverting your gaze behind him, forcing yourself to look away.

He moved, taking barely two steps until he was behind you, hands settling on your waist and your spine straightened in a gasp. His fingers flexed, smoothing a little further down to sit on your hips. 

“You’re not using the right form, you’re slouching because you’re tired and you’re probably sore.” With one hand still on your hip and the other on your stomach, brushing across the bare skin exposed by your cropped raining shirt, he pushed. Your body jerked under his movements, core muscles tightening as he shifted your hips to how you knew they should have been, engaged and active, making it easier to move. 

One foot between your own, his boots tapped roughly, kicking your ankles apart, and his knee dragged up along the back of yours, until he was pressing behind, your body dropping down, no longer locked up. 

“Like this.” His breath was a whisper over the shell of your ear, baritone voice all but a rumble as he spoke softly. The hand on your hips squeezed, the thumb on your stomach swiped delicately, a caress that lasted barely a few stroked before he was pulling his hand back. “You’re still not letting yourself hold it.”

“We can try again tomorrow.”

“You just need to loosen up a little.” Heavy hands clamped down on your shoulders, your body locking up all over again as he stepped up closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the sweat and earth and mist that exuded from him. Your lungs couldn’t take a full breath, wouldn't take a full breath, eyes fluttering a little as he applied pressure. “Let me help you relax a little.”

His fingertips pressed into your collarbones, dipping under the straps of your tight workout bra, while his thumbs began to rub soothing circles into the tight muscles of your shoulders. His grip was tight but not harsh, rubbing slowly at every knot and pull, and your head slipped forwards, a groan spilling from your lips as he worked at the muscles in your neck. 

He chuckled, touch moving outwards just a little, to your shoulders, rubbing there gently, shadows once again pooling around both of your feet now, encasing you in a dark cloud as they rose up your calves. “Good?”

“Good.” You mumbled, his touch sliding down to the tops of each arm, squeezing, pressing, like he knew just where to touch to press out every bit of tension you were holding onto. The further down your arms he got, the closer he pressed, until your back was up against his front, your body seeming to go weak as he worked, roughly scarred fingers moving down and down along your arms until his fingertips were weaving with your own, holding tight as he pulled them back, settling both sets of joined hands on your stomach. “I’m sorry for shouting at you.”

“S’okay. You were only trying to help.” Your mind was foggy, head rolling back onto his arm, a dulled smile on your lips as you sagged back into him, not taking even a second to think about what you were doing. This was your mentor, your trainer, your best friend, and his thumb was slowly swiping back and forth across your knuckles as you let him bear your weight, drowning in his scent with your eyes closed. 

He hummed, one hand detaching from yours, your arm falling back to slackened at your side, and you thought he’d pull away, before his fingers were back on your body, your breath hitching and eyes snapping open at the jolt his touch gave you. He dragged his finger slowly, so slowly, up and down your stomach, goosebumps rising on your skin each time he brushed the hem of your leggings, or the seam of your bra. His chin came to rest on your shoulder by the fifth turn, and his fingertip dared to drag a little higher. Bumping over the material he normally stopped at, that same finger dared an inch higher, sitting in the dip just below where your breasts would meet in the middle, daring no higher, before he was dragging down again. 

“Az..”

“Shh, s’okay. I got you.” He dragged back up, daring higher again, that finger dragging up until he was pressing over the fabric sitting directly between your breasts, your chest heaving with heavy breaths, and he paused, waiting. Waiting for you to pull away, to give him a sign, to say something. The air was crackling between you both, hanging on the precipice of something else entirely, and you didn’t think you’d be able to speak even if you wanted to. Instead, you opted to squeeze at your still-connected hands, getting one squeeze back, and a kiss on your shoulder. 

Then, that finger moved. Scraping across to the side, firmer and firmer until pressing down on one taut nipple, and you arched up into his hand on a shaky breath, a whine. He remained a moment, before his hand was encasing you entirely, squeezing until your head was rolling against his shoulder, a plea you could barely get out on a breath. He left a single kiss on your cheek before freeing his other hand to join, fingers skating up your arm, leaving goosebumps in wake of his featherlight touch, before joining the first on your chest. 

He took his time, slow and teasing, leaving kisses dotted along your neck each tie your head tipped a little further back. You were solely dependent on him to hold you up now, back arching against his chest as he toyed with you. He pinched and twisted, enough that you cried out at the jolts of pain, before he was soothingly rubbing once again, distracting you with his tongue and teeth against your neck. When you’d finally stopped panting, he’d be back at it again, winding you tighter and tighter, until your head was spinning, and your gasps had melted into incoherent babble. 

“Azriel, please, please, just do something, you’re driving me out of my mind!”

“That’s the point, sweetheart.” He left a particularly rough bite to the juncture of your neck, lapping at it with his tongue when you cried his name, letting it bounce around off of the walls like his shouts at done not so long ago. “We’re trying to get you out of your pretty little head, stop you thinking so much.”

“But- please.” You didn’t even know what you were begging for, too wound up to think properly, too wound up to think at all, and he tugged the love of your ear between his teeth softly, before finally giving in. You felt like you were on fire, panting like you’d run across all of Velaris as his fingers inched back down, lower and lower, taunting as they smoothed along the hem of your leggings. 

“I can smell you, sweetheart. So sweet and needy for it, you’re practically rubbing yourself against my cock through all these layers.” You didn’t know when you’d started rolling your hips, and somewhere in you, that strong and stubborn vice was yelling at him, but the feeling of his touch and the pleasure he gave long since obliterated any pride you had left. “This isn’t the first time. D’you know how distracting you are, always walking around in your tight little leggings, smelling so good when you stare at me, thinking I don’t know. Now look at you, letting me put my hands all over you, huh?”

His fingertips dipped below the waistband before you could talk back, before you could protest with anything, not that you would, and you all but trembled in anticipation. You were right there on the brink already; his teasing, his taunting, his talking, it had dragged you so close to climax that you were shaking for it, and when one rough fingerpad pressed your clit, you exploded. Your nails were digging into his arm as you gripped him, the other sliding around your body to hold your squirming form to him, head tossed back in bliss. 

The dark chuckle he gave should have humiliated you, should have been enough to shove him off, but you didn’t care, not when that same finger was dipping lower, lower, swirling through the gush of arousal, your panties soaked, and he seemed happy with what he found. A choked groan left him, swirling slowly, finger prodding at your entrance only once, before dragging back up to smear over the still sensitive bundle of nerves he’d barely even had to touch. 

His body shifted behind you, planes of solid muscle shifting against your back and thighs before he was kicking your legs further apart, your knees shaking from it, opening you up wider for his touch. 

“So fuckin’ wet for me, love. This all mine?” He pressed at that bud again, your hips jerking up into his hand with a soft cry, and when your head fell to the side, twisted to him, his nose brushed your own. He waited, and when no words came from your lips, he pinched at your clit harshly, enough for your knees to give way, only his arm around you holding you up. “Answer me when I talk to you.”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, Az, please,” Tears felt like they were lining your eyes, your throat was raw, the sheer intensity of your need was so surprising you couldn't breathe, and when he sunk a single finger into you, his resulting moan was like music to your ears.

“Fuck, you’re grippin’ me so tight. So good, huh, you deserve it. Let me give it to you, let me take away all this tension.”

“I want that, I want that.” Tomorrow you’d be embarrassed, that he’d reduced you to such simple words, to such simple begging, but your hips were rolling down into his hand, a second rippled finger joining his second one and slamming back into you, the heel of his hand rubbing all the right places as he let you ride down onto his fingers. 

It was filthy, and wet, and when his lips met your own you swore you’d never felt anything like it. His kiss was sloppy and unhurried and filthy, broken only by encouraging mumbles into your mouth that made you clench even tighter around him, by his own groans in response to your needy whines, fingers slamming in and out of you, stretching you wide, scissoring until the stretch bordered on pain, only for a third finger to join the mix. 

When he crooked them, dragging down your walls and finding the spot that made your entire body jump, come alive again, you came. Your eyes squeezed shut, mouth hanging open, toes curling into your shoes so tight they cramped. With a pathetic scream of his name, one you were sure would have reached out between the open pillars and down to Velaris had he not kissed the sound away. A real kiss, his mouth over yours, lips dragging and tongue stroking and this was it. This was the kind of sex you’d waited your whole life for, the kind of sex that made sweat break out on your skin late at night in Nesta’s borrowed smutty books, the kind of sex that made you want to fall to your knees for him. 

He rode you through it, fingers slowing down as lewd sounds accompanied his movements, noises that should have been shameful were it not turning you on more. You pressed down, following his retreating touch, clenching around him to keep his fingers right there. Your nails dug into his arm, pleasure bordering on the brink of insanity as nonsense spewed from you. 

“More, more, more. Azriel, I need- I need it, I-”

His hand wrapped around your throat, cutting you off with a squeak and his fingers slammed back into you, so roughly you rose onto your tiptoes to follow his hand, and a bliss so intense curled at your lower spine, wrapping all the way up until your eyes rolled back overtook you. “My greedy girl, you want to come again? I love the feel of you on my fingers, can only imagine how good you’d feel on my tongue or my cock. So tight, and warm. Ask again, use your manners, maybe I’ll give it to you.”

“Please, please, give it to me, Az.” You pressed down into his hand, and he let you, doing nothing to help but letting you ride against his fingers, whining and keening at his lack of movement, chuckling as he sucked a mark into your neck. 

“You think you can take another one?” He crooked his fingers, just enough to tease, and you thought you might actually be sobbing as need overtook you. 

“I can!”

“I like you like this. Needy, begging, so good for me. You’re always so strong, I like being able to take you apart like that.” He repeated it, further this time, and a sob actually did leave your lips. “Tell me it’s only me, even if you lie. Tell me I’m the only one who can do this to you.”

“You are, you are.” Your hips rolled, feeling his cock pressing into you from behind, a choked-off hiss on his lips. “I’m not lying Az, it’s only you.” That seemed to be the trick, because just like that, he was moving again. 

His fingers were slamming in and out thumb swiping your clit back and forth, the abused bud throbbing desperately, overstimulated and pulsing and the spark of pain only made everything else so good. You were on your tiptoes, digging into him as you shook, holding onto him, every muscle winding tighter and tighter in your body as it crested. 

“Let it go, pretty girl. Give it to me. It’s mine, I want it.” A press on your clit, a slam of his fingers, and you were gone. Vision-spotting ecstasy as you alternated between screams and sobs of his name, slick gush racing from you, making such a mess as he rode you through it all, kissing in a soft contrast to his brutal hand between your legs. “Atta’ girl, let me have it all.”

It seemed to go on forever, nerves firing in relief and bliss, finally unfurling as the orgasm washed over you again and again. You reached up, one shaking hand cupping his jaw as you twisted his head towards you, catching his lips in a sweet kiss. He was smiling, you could feel it against your lips as his tongue swept across your lower one, sucking lightly as he pulled back, leaving you to pant for air as your heart raced so hard it could bruise.

His fingers slipped from you, leaving you to feel cold and empty, slumped against him and watching with wide eyes as he rose three glistening fingers up, slipping them into that same mouth that had been claiming yours seconds ago. He licked them clean, a sparkle in his eye that promised nothing but filth and passion and mind-shattering orgasms as he hummed around the three fingers shoved in there.

You were slumped against him, shadows that had become a violent frenzy in their master’s arousal were finally calming, like a hurricane the two of you had been in the eye of, revealing the same dark sky, the training ring, the abandoned equipment once again. 

When you were finally stable enough to stand on shaky legs once again, he left one more kiss on your temple, before pulling back, wiping wet fingers on his shirt and smirking at your shocked stare. “Now, are you feeling better?”

You could only nod, dumbfounded, and watching a spray of dirty sand come up as he kicked the discarded training sword over to you. 

“Good, we’re not going to bed until you get it right.” We. There was a promise in his words, one that sent a whole fresh wave of excitement zapping up your spine. “Now, pick that up, and try again.”

“Good, we’re not going to bed until you get it right.” There was a promise in his words, one that sent a whole fresh wave of excitement zapping up your spine. “Now, pick that up, and try again.”

[cinnamonest]

hii!! do you think any gnsn yandere would go for anal with the intention of making it very pleasant for darling? like, "I'm telling you, it can feel so good" and "I read about it" (<- that's definitely Haitham lol) and maybe "I know what I'm talking about"

Yessss he would! Alhaitham thinks himself The Expert™ and that any fears you have are silly and unfounded. He takes the matter very seriously and has actually done his research, which, while he can be very annoying at his pretentiousness and stubbornness about it, is actually reassuring, because he does actually know what he’s doing, makes sure he gets in at an angle that will still press against the sweet spots that make you feel good, and keeps his hand practically latched to your clit too.

He develops quite the fixation, actually. You know, you can make this a regular thing, some people get into making it a lifestyle, and the thought appeals to him quite a bit. So he can train you, keep toys inside your ass throughout the day to ensure that if he ever wants it, it’ll be easy to access without having to go through the process of stretching you out a lot each time. And eventually, he can set a day or two per week — or maybe a full week per month? — where any other hole is off-limits, ensuring you get mentally adjusted as well.

Also, the man has a specific little fantasy he intends to fulfill... that is, he's into the idea of switching holes while he's fucking you. Having you on your back and railing you hard and fast, letting the slick fluid pour out of you and drip off his cock as gravity makes it trail downward, coating your asshole too... then pulling out and flipping you over onto your stomach before sliding into your ass, lubed by the grool your body already made for him, feeling you stiffen and clench and gasp... let him live that out just once, and he can die a happy man... well, he thinks that, but you let that happen once, there's no way he can leave it at once.

Albedo has something very similar going on, perhaps an even more intense fixation, although for him it’s part of a much larger pool of kinks and turn-ons ranging from fairly normal to outright depraved, and you’re not quite sure where this compulsive need to ream your poor ass falls on that scale. He’s just not content until he feels like he owns every part of you, and the more vulnerable and sensitive a part of you is, the more satisfying it is to take it for himself.

Still, he at least knows what he’s doing, and he has a way of keeping you calm with how gentle-sounding his voice is. He can also make you various consumables that act as either aphrodisiacs or numbing agents and so on, anything that enhances the good while diminishing any discomfort as much as possible (unless he’s mad and wants you to have some discomfort, of course).

He gives you the I know what I'm doing line quite a bit, and assures you that if you just calm down and hold still, it'll feel good... and he ends up being right, at least to some degree, as he also manages to make you cum that way.

He in particular develops an obsession with trying to get you to cum just from anal stimulation and nothing more, and no matter how slow and gradual the process may be, he's quite determined and patient with training you to achieve that, and it'll be all that much more rewarding when he finally does get the desired result.

But also, he uses his anatomical knowledge against you, because he knows you’ll take whatever he says seriously, so he will do his best to convince you of the therapeutic and health benefits of letting him cum in your ass, and unfortunately he’s actually quite convincing…

Childe’s on the list too, except it is 100% a lie and he does NOT actually have the requisite knowledge, he just has a level of confidence that is directly inverse-correlated to his IQ and it will become your problem. He’s alarmingly uneducated on something that by definition necessitates a lot of know-how to do properly, so please be on guard or else he will just approach it the same way he does pussy — trying to shove it in all in one swift motion, not enough lube, goes way too fast and hard, etc… he still wants it to feel good and insists it will, he just doesn’t actually have any idea what he’s talking about, so be wary and force him to slow down lest you suffer for not doing so.

[hlizr50]

It's been a long time since I posted something here...

So how about a Fourth Wing oneshot????

**SPOILERS FOR FOURTH WING!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!**

Read on AO3

Violet Sorrengail.

But it couldn’t be.

She was supposed to be a scribe, safe and sweet and sequestered in the archives. A girl — young woman — like her would be broken by the Riders Quadrant. Hell, seeing how small she was, the Parapet alone could be lethal.

Did Brennan know?

Xaden looked the youngest Sorrengail over, appraising her from head to toe as he struggled to maintain that mask of calm. She was so petite. Thin. Her body was clearly lacking the years of training that the other cadet hopefuls had completed: even the slightest among them was lean with muscle. Violet Sorrengail’s body was that of a scribe, and the wing leader could only wonder what had changed.

Had she decided to honor her late brother’s memory?

Did she feel a pressure to follow in the footsteps of her sister of her mother?

Or did she just have a death wish?

Regardless, she was fucking exquisite. There was silver winding through the braided coronet that crowned her head, drained of color from the illness she’d suffered as a child. Xaden’s fingers twitched with the desire to feel the silver strands between them.

Fuck, life just got a lot more complicated.

“Sorrengail?” His voice rumbled with his best intimidating growl.

When she stepped forward her crown didn’t even reach his collarbone. She was tiny , but she still lifted her chin and fixed him with a stubborn glare.

Adorable.

Little Sorrengail nodded once, but didn’t speak. They were locked in a moment of grim recognition, and Xaden saw the hate that darkened her pretty hazel eyes. He could imagine why.

“You’re General Sorrengail’s youngest.” It was less a statement and more of an accusation. It would be expected that he would loathe any connection to the general with the same intensity that burned in Violet’s gaze. And though this was a massively unexpected circumstance, he had too many secrets that had to be kept.

“You’re Fen Riorson’s son.” The girl lifted her chin a little higher — a show of bravado, though she held her body so rigidly he thought she might snap in half.

What the fuck was she doing here?

Xaden took a deep breath. “Your mother captured my father and oversaw his execution.” And his mother’s. And the parents of all the other marked ones.

And it would have been all of the children, including himself, had he not thrown down his desperate deal. He would carry the marks of that burden until he took his dying breath, but it would be worth it to give them all a fighting chance.

“Your father killed my older brother.” Oh, if she only knew. “Seems like we’re even.”

“Hardly.”

Not even fucking close.

Xaden made a show of trailing his onyx eyes down her torso, judging her with a barely-contained sneer. But his scrutiny yielded some interesting results. A scaled leather corset hugged her ribs, highlighting the curve of her hips.

“Your sister is a rider. Guess that explains the leathers,” he quipped. 

“Guess so.” She stubbornly held his glare, so determined to stand up to him and establish her strength. The marked man couldn’t help but appreciate it. That hubris may well save her life in the quadrant. Or mark her doom.

The thought made his whole body go rigid as he clenched his fists.

“You all right?” A new voice drew his attention. It landed on a young woman with smooth, brown skin and rows of short braids atop her head. The newcomer looked between him and Violet, though her concern appeared focused on Sorrengail’s obvious discomfort.

“You’re friends?” He asked, hackles rising. Trust was dangerous in the Riders Quadrant, and Violet Sorrengail was out there making fucking friends.

“We met on the stairs.” The girl’s dark eyes hardened as she straightened and squared her shoulders.

Picking a side.

A few stone steps and they were ready to trade blows for each other. How cute.

Looking her over, as well, his gaze landed on her feet. Two mismatched boots. When his eyes slid over, he found Violet’s shoes in a similar state. One pair of boots was standard issue for riders — obviously from Mira Sorrengail. Xaden cocked a brow and looked back up at the tiny woman with the silver-streaked hair, lips twitching.

“Interesting.”

Taking obvious offense to his expression, Violet lifted her chin another inch. Any higher and she might dislocate something. “Are you going to kill me?”

What an odd question.

Rain roared in a deluge as their gazes clashed, speckled hazel and gold-flecked midnight. The water soaked her through almost instantly, leaving strands of chocolate and silver sticking to her brow in delicate curls as droplets fell from the tip of her pointed nose.

He wanted to catch them with the tip of his tongue.

A scream shattered the air, drawing the women’s focus to the parapet. From the corner of his vision he saw what had ripped horrified gasps from their lips: the blonde boy had fallen. Violet’s friend was yelling as her hands flew to her mouth, but Xaden’s attention was intent upon the flush of Sorrengail’s paling cheeks and the twist of those dainty fingers.

She was so lovely, even in that moment. The flecks of color shimmered in those wide eyes, her devastation only highlighting her beauty in the midst of hell. Someone so bright and clever and hopeful didn’t belong in the Riders Quadrant. It would destroy the light that warmed him, even then.

It was wrong. So incredibly wrong.

But Xaden channeled the wrongness into something he could use. He let it fan the flame of ire within him as Violet Sorrengail turned back to face him. All she would see would be a scowl, cold and calculated, with a glimmer of devious knowing.

“Why would I waste my energy killing you when the Parapet will do it for me?” He forced his lips to curl into a wicked, cruel smile. “Your turn.”

He could only pray to see her on the other side.

~~~

“Riorson? What are you—“

“We have a big fucking problem.” Xaden shouldered past Brennan Sorrengail into the dim amber light of the tiny room. His quarters were small, even by the standards of Basgiath.

But what did a dead man need with a large bedroom?

“We must, if you’ve flown here mere hours after the crossing.” Brennan’s grin was mischievous as he made his way to his desk chair. The marked man paced the length of the floor, likely wearing a valley into the smooth stone.

The eldest Sorrengail was the opposite of Xaden Riorson in so many ways. Where Xaden was serious and intense, Brennan was carefree, always wearing an easy smirk that was reflected in the playful glint in his hazel eyes. Somehow, in spite of everything — his mother’s deception, his father’s death, the need to live in secrecy away from everything he’d ever known, including the two sisters he adored — the demons never seemed to creep into his gaze. Brennan was happy to be where he was: skilled in combat and poised to make a difference in the world.

But… this news might crush him.

Rubbing his hands over his eyes, he took a breath that burned his lungs with dread.

“Violet crossed the Parapet today.”

Xaden’s expression must have been grave, because Brennan’s face fell and his eyes widened.

“W-what?”

“I stood face-to-face with your sister before she stepped out onto the Parapet. She was wearing a rider’s leathers — I’m assuming from your other sister.” Xaden ran ringers through his tousled hair in the silence that swallowed the two young men. Everything felt tilted and wrong, as if the world was shifting beneath them and they had no power to stop it.

The oppressive quiet stretched between them for what felt like hours.

“It can’t be. That doesn’t make any sense.” And there it was, the darkness that Xaden rarely saw in his comrade. The shadows darkened his eyes as his brows furrowed, trying to understand. “She’s been studying to be a scribe since she was a child. She would never have dreamed of riding dragons. She’s not… built for that.”

“I know. I don’t understand it, either. Based on everything you’ve told me, there was no reason for her to be there,” Xaden answered, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His focus remained upon his friend, whose expression morphed from confusion to concern… to a cold fury the marked man had never seen on the handsome face.

“It has to be my mother’s doing. There’s no other explanation.” Brennan looked up at him, eyes glinting like shards of ice. “Violet is smarter than Mira and me put together. If she became a scribe, she would find out everything that our father suspected and then some.”

The implication was staggering. Infuriating. Xaden scratched at the stubble dotting his chin. “By forcing Violet into the Riders Quadrant, with almost zero preparation, she’s condemning her to almost certain death.” How could a mother do that to her child? How could anyone want to extinguish the fire of that clever, beautiful woman? It made his gut churn as his teeth clenched.

The next moment, Brennan was upon him, his hands gripping his shoulders like a vice. “Xaden,” he murmured, wide-eyed gaze wild with desperation. “You have to protect her, Xaden. Please. Promise me you’ll take care of her. Promise me she won’t die there.”

The crack in his friend’s voice might as well have broken him, as well. This was all so wrong. So terribly complicated. Of course, Xaden had been contemplating how to keep Violet safe the moment he met her at the Parapet. But how was he supposed to protect her if she hated him? If he was supposed to hate her? Nobody could know that he’d been enamored with her, simply from the stories her brother would weave about her.

Nobody could know that the real thing was even sweeter and brighter and more exquisite than he could have ever imagined.

“Promise me, Xaden. Promise me I’ll see my sister again.”

The marked man lifted his hands and placed them on Brennan’s shoulders, comforting him with his strong hold as he nodded once.

“I swear it, Brennan,” he rasped. “On my life.”

[dawnslight-aegis]

17. sally

Haurchefant had never expected to receive the Warriors of Light and the sad remnants of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn on his doorstep in the middle of the night, cold, unarmed, and dressed for a gala, not a trek through the wilderness. He had certainly never expected that, when one of them looked at him with beautiful, tired blue eyes and declared that they’d not known where to go, where they would be safe, so they’d come to him, that his heart would crack open and leave him in awe of what lay within it.

So he did what he could in the moment – granted them sanctuary in the only place he’d ever been able to call his own, made jokes to lighten their spirits, served them drinks to warm the body and nourish the heart. And when all of that was done, and was not enough to stand against the darkness that wished to snuff out the light of the dawn, he had steeled himself and sallied forth into the unknown, to attempt to claim for a friend what he had never been able to fully claim for himself: a home in Fortemps Manor, safely ensconced within the protective walls of Ishgard.

His plea was refused, of course. Ishgard had closed her gates years ago, and it would take more than a few feats of heroism in her name to bid them open once more. But if the count de Fortemps would not heed the requests of his garrison commander, then perhaps his father would listen to his son, just this once. Never before had he asked anything of the man who sired him, but the look on the Warrior of Light’s face as she’d stood in the snow, lost and cold and uncertain as he’d never seen her, spurred him on.

Haurchefant spoke of light, and of inspiration, and of virtue; of a knight he had trained by his own hand, valiant and true and innocent of the crimes spoken against her; of a hero but also of a friend, dear to him above all others. He spoke of his obligation, his need to help her, to secure her passage to the only place in the realm that her enemies could not touch her. And in his heart, he admitted to himself that it was for her that he did this, not the others she brought with her. It was for her that he laid aside pride and put himself at his father’s mercy, knowing that refusal would bring an irrevocable end to a relationship long fraught with as much difficulty as affection.

It took a very, very long time, but in the end, his father’s love outweighed his sense of tradition and duty. Just as it must have all those years ago when he’d taken a lovely servant girl into his heart and his bed, and not turned out the baseborn child that had resulted, even though it drove a wedge of resentment between himself and his wife and trueborn sons.

Never before had Haurchefant been more sure of the strength of his father’s regard than in that moment. He had not granted him his name, or a place at his table between his brothers, but at the very least, he could give him this one thing. Fulfill one heartfelt wish, and take a dear friend into his home and into their family as much as he was able.

Edmont de Fortemps was a powerful man, but the Holy See was stubborn beyond measure, and for a time it seemed that even the determination of one of her highest lords, even with his voice amplified by another high house and the lord commander of the temple knights, would not shake her from her refusal. Would not convince her to open her gates to those who had literally stood with their backs to them, and guarded them against the onslaught of dragons that breached the wards of the Steps of Faith. In those long days of uncertainty, it was all Haurchefant could to grant whatever shelter and succor was within his own power, to guard his borders with sharpened steel, and pray to the Fury that it would be enough.

And it was. It was.

He saw his friend delivered to safety, though naturally it came with strings attached, as did every kindness in the city of his birth. He could only trust that when they attempted to strangle her, she would survive them, that when knives came at her in the dark, he would be able to shield her from them.

He needn’t have worried. Every challenge set before her, she rose to, and then overcame, by her grace and her valor. She repaid him many times over, saving his brother, saving his family’s reputation, saving his city itself by doing that which no one else had dared dream – walking alongside the heretics, learning and understanding, and from thence traveling into the heart of the enemy’s stronghold and cutting off the head of the horde that had long harried them.

So when she returned, with tales that exposed the rot that lay at the heart of everything his people held dear, he believed her. He took up arms in her defense. He loved her, even when she did not love him in return.

And when the time came, he shielded her as he always had, and felt not a moment of regret, save for the sadness it brought her. He had never wanted to be the cause of her pain, only the salve for it. Never her loss, only her shelter.

Never before had he asked anything of the woman he loved, but in that moment, he wished only to see again, for one final time, that for which he had risked and given all. His hero, no longer cold and lost in the dark, but brave, and brilliant, and smiling. And there, even at the end of all things, she did not disappoint him. She rose to the challenge and surpassed it, one final time.

[urfavtata]

I want to introduce to my male OC

faceclaim: Rudy Pankow

Basic Info

Full Name: Alex Matteo

Nickname: Alex

Age: 23 years old

Date of Birth: July 15, 2000

Place of Birth: Los Angeles, California, USA

Gender/Pronouns: Male (he/him)

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Relationship: Single

Species: Human

Ethnicity: American-Italian

Blood Type: O positive

Likes:

Music (playing guitar, going to concerts)

Movies and TV shows

Sports (basketball, soccer)

Traveling

Spending time with friends and family

Dislikes:

Injustice

Arrogant people

Crowded places

Standing still

Routine

General Appearance:

Light blonde brown hair

Blue eyes Average height (1.75 m)

Body Athletic

Casual and laid-back style

General Personality:

Extroverted and sociable

Funny and playful

Loyal and protective

Determined and ambitious

A little impulsive

Hobbies:

Playing guitar

Watching movies and series

Playing sports

Traveling

Reading

Occupation: Film student (aims to become a director)

Strengths:

Creative and imaginative

Communicative and persuasive

Born leader

Determined and persistent

Good at solving problems

Weaknesses:

Impulsive and impatient

Stubborn and proud

Sometimes gets carried away by emotions

Can be a little self-centered

Lack of experience

Physical Traits + Appearance

Alive/Dead: Alive

Height: 1.80 m

Weight: 80 kg

Hair Color: Light Blonde Brown

Hairstyle: Short and messy, with some strands falling over the forehead

Eye Color: Blue

Body Type: Athletic and muscular, with broad shoulders and a slim waist

Other Physical Characteristics:

Wolf tattoo on the right arm

Scar on the left side of the face, the result of a motorcycle accident

Wears tactical and functional clothing, such as cargo pants, a t-shirt, bulletproof vest and military boots

Backstory

Childhood and Adolescence:

Alex Matteo was born and raised in Los Angeles, California. He is the son of Italian immigrant parents who worked hard to provide him with a good life.

Alex was always an active and adventurous boy. He loved sports, especially basketball and soccer. He was also a brilliant student and had a special interest in history and literature.

During his teenage years, Alex got into some trouble. He was a bit rebellious and would often get into fights. However, he also had a good heart and was always willing to help others.

Enlistment in the Army:

After graduating from high school, Alex decided to enlist in the army. He wanted to serve his country and make a difference in the world.

Alex underwent rigorous training and became an elite soldier. He was known for his courage, determination, and leadership skills.

Alex served in several missions around the world, including Iraq and Afghanistan. He saw the horrors of war firsthand and it changed him forever.

Return to Civilian Life:

After several years of serving in the military, Alex decided to return to civilian life. He enrolled in college and began studying film.

Alex was still traumatized by his experiences in the war, but he was determined to move forward with his life. He joined a support group for veterans and began therapy.

Alex met Sam, an army medic, and fell in love with her. Sam helped him overcome his trauma and find a new purpose in life.

Return to the Army:

When a new threat emerged, Alex decided to return to the military. He knew his skills and experience were needed to protect his country.

Alex joined a special operations unit and was sent on a dangerous mission. He and his team had to infiltrate enemy territory and eliminate a terrorist leader.

The mission was a success, but Alex was seriously injured. He spent months recovering in the hospital, but eventually made a full recovery.

Present:

Alex continues to serve in the military and is determined to make a difference in the world. He knows that war is a necessary evil, but he hopes that one day the world can live in peace.

Alex is a decorated war hero and a respected leader. He is a role model for all who know him.

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

day ten: whipping

a Vaniah story. word count 1,233.

Staring straight ahead, Vaniah felt his consciousness unlatch. It drifted away from his body, and he watched himself lie blank-eyed on the hospital bed. The hypnotist said something which Vaniah didn’t catch; then he said, “Sleep.” Vaniah’s consciousness faded out, but his eyes remained open.

When he came to himself, an unknown time later, the hypnotist was nodding contentedly. “You’re a good patient, Vaniah. You’ve responded very successfully.”

He studied the person in front of him and said, rather stiffly, “What did you do to me?”

“You’ll find out presently?”

“What,” he repeated, voice low and dangerous, “did you do to me?”

The other actually took a step backwards, stared wide-eyed, and said, “Not enough, apparently.”

Vaniah blinked. “Did you try and program the violence out of me?”

“You’re a dangerous man, Vaniah.”

“So I need to be, what—psychologically neutered?” he said. The other winced.

“I wouldn’t have used such language. This merely makes you able to respond better to the psychological intervention mainly led by Jim.”

He didn’t know what to think of Jim anymore. He had got so many conflicting pieces of information about him.

“He has your best interests at heart,” the hypnotist assured him. “How do you feel about getting up and going back to the compound?”

Vaniah rolled off the bed and to his feet in one motion. “Absolutely fine. Lead me to it.” He wanted to see Mordecai, but even more than Mordecai he wanted to see Maria.

He was led through a maze of corridors to the outdoors, where the hypnotist left him without a goodbye. As he stood irresolutely in the space just outside the front door of the hospital, Jim called from a little distance away, “Vaniah!”

He turned; there was a certain warm feeling towards his commander that he had not experienced yet before. Perhaps that was a result of the hypnotherapy. Crossing the distance between them, he became aware of a faint dizziness, or perhaps distance from himself, as if his consciousness, having unlatched, had not quite integrated with itself again. He shook himself to make the strange feeling dissipate.

Jim frowned slightly. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel a little strange, that’s all.” He also wanted a nap; his room sounded a very attractive place right now, and he matched Jim’s pace in hopes of getting there sooner.

“I hope you don’t need to rest; there’s important things to do this afternoon, I’m afraid.”

“After I’ve had all this hypnotherapy?” He glanced at the sun to estimate the time. “That took a solid five hours.”

“Five hours of rest! Yes, a bit of programming in there, but there was rest too.”

Vaniah sighed. “Can I convince you to let me rest?”

“You must be strong, Vaniah,” was the answer. “In the industry you’re going into, strength is necessary: and not just giving up when the going gets tough.”

If I’d been the sort who gives up when the going gets tough I would have been out of this training long ago, and been the better for it, he thought, but did not say. “Do you think I have the strength and determination to make it?”

“I do.” Jim smiled at him. “I think you can make it—like very few people can. You have something that very, very few people have.”

“And what’s that?” asked Vaniah in irrepressible curiosity.

“Implacable stubbornness. You will go to any lengths to reach your goals. Which makes you a terrifying man in the wrong hands. In ours, however, you are safe.”

“And if you don’t have my best interests at heart?” He said it jokingly, but watched the other intently as he spoke.

“Why would you think we didn’t?”

Why did you make so many people die or get injured? Why did you kill our hearts? “Everyone has the potential for harm.”

“It’s a dangerous man who closes his eyes to the difficult truths; to the possibility he might be doing the wrong thing. Have the courage to look at the worst version of yourself and accept it, and only then will you find yourself truly balanced.”

“I think I’ve lost myself.” It came out in a whisper: his deepest and most terrifying secret. “I don’t know who I am anymore. I never—I didn’t think I was capable of all the things I’ve done.”

“And now you know. We break you, we unmake you, and from those broken remains we resurrect a man fit for purpose.”

“The breaking hurts.”

“It must. Come, you must hurry up.” They had been dawdling during their conversation. “We have things to do and places to be in just ten minutes.”

He followed without comment, cogitating.

Presently he found himself next to Maria in the meeting hall again. She glanced at him, gaze full of something she could not utter. She was just opening her mouth when Jim clapped his hands and said, “Everybody line up.”

He lined up in front of Maria, whole body screaming for rest. Fear squirmed like a live eel in his stomach. There were fewer here today; he wondered how many people had flunked out in the ‘hands on’ experience of their injuries. How many had died?

When he was ushered into the room again, he saw the doctor he had attacked; grew still while his heart beat hard in his ears, and remembered Mordecai. He would not attack him.

“You have grown wise,” said the doctor, and laughed. “Do not attack me again or it will be the worse for you.”

“I could kill you,” he said, flatly. “You know that I could.”

“And I know you will not.—Not if you don’t want to become the man you would despise.”

“I despise you.”

“And you would despise yourself if you snapped and killed me too. I am safe. Now,” in a brisk voice and with a change of tone, “lie down on your face on the ground.”

Uncertainly, he did so. Handcuffs were snapped around his wrists and ankles and drawn moderately tight. His body pressed hard against the floor.

The doctor removed his shirt by the simple expedient of tearing it in half at his back, and leaving it where it was, exposing his back. Vaniah’s breathing quickened. What was going on?

The first lash caught him utterly by surprise. He gasped, tightened his hands into fists and held in a scream by sheer force of will. “What—are you doing to me?” he said through clenched teeth. Another line of pain crossed his back and he inhaled sharply.

“Showing you how it feels.” A third lash, and this time he felt it draw blood. “You have to know how it feels.”

“Why?”

“So that you know precisely what you’re inflicting, when it gets to that.” The whip whistled audibly before the line of fire lanced across his left shoulder. This time Vaniah cried out. “Be calm. Take it as well as you may, but if you don’t, nobody is judging you.”

He bit his lip hard enough to taste blood. “Why would I do this to anyone if I know how it—ah!—feels?”

“Needs must. It’s an unfortunate reality of life that sometimes you have to do something you don’t want to do; a means to an end.”

He closed his eyes and endured. “A means to an end,” Vaniah said when he could speak again. “That seems singularly heartless.”

[sadeshacklebolt]

"Where's the fire, what's the hurry about? You better cool it off before you burn it out"

BASICS

name : sade adanna shacklebolt

nickname/s: shay.

age: 27

birth date: 29 June 1952.

zodiac: cancer

wand : 10" Aspen Wand with Unicorn Hair Core.

Gender & Pronouns - cis female, she/her pronouns

Sexuality - heterosexual

Relationship Status - Single

Occupation : desk clerk at the department of international magical cooperation.

Affiliations - order of the phoenix

Aesthetic: a ticking clock, the itch to succeed, a warm fireplace, the smell of talcum powder, a storm battering against the window, the hums of a soft lullaby.

APPEARANCE

hair colour : black hair

eye colour : brown

height: 5'7

piercings: earlobes.

tattoos : a small star on her left wrist.

FAMILY

parents: nathaniel adewale shacklebolt (father) , yetunde ‘dea’ shacklebolt (mother)

siblings: kingsley sijuwade shacklebolt (older brother)

children : jasper kingsley shacklebolt ( five years old)

MAGIC

Blood Status - pureblood

House - slytherin

Patronus - rabbit

Boggart - the deceased body of jasper.

biography

Eager, that was always the word that best described Sade Shacklebolt’s arrival into the world. On June 29th 1952, Sade Shacklebolt was born almost two months before anybody was expecting her arrival. From her first breath, Sade was determined to make her parents work for her approval. A harsh record scratch of an infant, when compared to her older brother. As a young toddler, Sade often kicked up a fuss anytime Nathaniel or Dea did something to upset or anger her.

One person who had a knack for soothing Sade was her older brother, Kingsley. Where he went, Sade could be guaranteed a few steps behind, a smaller footstep than his but one that she always wanted to fill. From a young age, Sade admired her older brother. Her eyes watching in awe at how Kingsley handled situations, even as a young boy. Where Sade flew off the handle, Kingsley was calm, a skill that Sade could never quite master.

An adventurous young girl, Sade typically found herself in hot water on the Shacklebolt residence and surrounding areas. Situations that Kingsley often had to pull her from, he was her support system and the one person who could see beyond the tantrums and stubbornness that typically resulted in a scold from her parents.

On the afternoon of his departure for Hogwarts, Sade was devastated. Her nine-year old self tried to take a few steps closer to the train after him. Only for her father to grab her hand and keep her firmly by his side. Saying goodbye to her best friend with nothing but a hug and a few waves as the train drifted from the platform.

No longer did Sade have somebody to glance towards during their parent’s discussions about the decline of Britain’s magical community. Discussions that made Sade highly uncomfortable, the ideology of hating somebody just due to the nature of their blood seemed harsh and cruel. Before, Sade’s eyes would have searched for her brother to give him a knowing look across the table for the two years prior to Hogwarts, Sade’s eyes remained firmly on her plate.

The two years before her own departure to Hogwarts seemed to drag. Patience was never Sade’s virtue and time never seemed to move quick enough for the young girl’s aspirations. June 29th 1963, Sade remained awake for the full twenty-four hours, anxiously awaiting the arrival of her own Hogwarts letter. Nathaniel and Dea, once again disappointed, that their youngest child did not receive an acceptance to Uagadou.

However, Sade was relieved of this. Seeking nothing more than to join her brother on the Hogwarts Express in the upcoming September. The excitement of her Hogwarts years was short-lived.

Sparks of ambition were received by the sorting hat the very second it was placed upon her head. As clear as day, the hat proclaimed, “Slytherin.” Her hopes to reside in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor were crushed in a very second. Sade Shacklebolt cried herself to sleep that first night in the Slytherin dormitories, hopeful that her fellow classmates would not hear.

Her parents were elated, sending letters of congratulations about receiving admission into Slytherin house. Nathaniel and Dea concluded that with a lot of the fellow Slytherins being members of pureblood society, that Sade would find close friends with similar mindsets to their own. How wrong they would be.

Sade kept her head down for the first few years, focusing on her studies and trying to mingle with classmates. Sade managed to ignore the demeaning conversations at mealtimes about students who did not possess pureblood heritage. The cruel assumptions and bitterness made Sade’s blood boil until one day in her third year, they bubbled over.

Sade, a confident dueller, opened up a duel with one of her housemates after overhearing a younger student being called, ‘a mud-blood.’ The duel ended with both battered, and bloody and with a particularly scathing howler for Sade the next morning.

It was safe to assume that Sade wasn’t pleasantly welcomed in her common room following this incident. Not that it was much skin off of Sade’s teeth. Much preferring the close circle of friends with a similar mindset that she had attained over her school years.

Academically, Sade was gifted. History of Magic and Charms were her two strongest fields, with a deep interest in the political epicentre of the Wizarding community. With a quick tongue, and a fierce determination and stubbornness to prove people wrong. Sade dreamed of joining Wizengamot upon graduating. A prospective career that delighted her parents.

Upon graduating, things seemed to be on track. Garnering a position a few months after Hogwarts, shadowing a member of the Council of Magical Law. This was an assignment that thrilled her. A role that made her feel like she was making a difference in a world that felt so convoluted with darkness, hatred, and war. It was this desire that caused her to reach out to her brother, with a request to join the growing Order of the Phoenix. Sade wanted to be on the right side of history, and she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

For the three years that Sade held this position, it was undeniable that her parent's preferred her more desk-based role to Kingsley's position as an Auror. A ridiculous sentiment, Sade couldn't help but think as she typically beamed with pride as she thought of her older brother's position.

The pride of her parents only lasted so long. As one night in 1973, Sade was introduced to a handsome American man in the Leaky Cauldron. A man called Jeff Thompson. Sade found him charming and somehow the man seemed to find humour in Sade tipsily mocking his American accent. Very quickly, the pair hit it off. Forming a romantic relationship that lasted for a month or two before Sade believed Jeff grew tired of the tryst and called it quits.

Two weeks following the break-up, Sade had discovered she was pregnant. Anxious, upset, and slighted by the sudden end to the relationship. Sade decided to keep the pregnancy to herself, figuring that it was easier this way. Worried of the rejection that her baby may face from Jeff.

Sade even made an effort to keep it from her family, her secrecy lasting three weeks before Sade broke down in admission to her older brother. Worried about becoming a single mother at just twenty-two years of age. Worried about the war, and the reaction of their parents.

Fears of Nathaniel and Dea's reaction were justified, her parent's were angry at her foolishness. Her father's first thought was about the detriment of her career, a reaction that left a sour taste in Sade's mouth. The 22 year old's reaction to her father's anger only fractured the relationship even further. With Sade vowing to not return to the Shacklebolt residence ever again, a vow she has upheld. Only ever exchanging letters with her mother every now and again.

Career put on pause, Sade nervously anticipated becoming a mother. She got a small flat in London. Her brother, Kingsley was there by her side through it all. Her friends also remaining a massive support system. The rejection of her parents only amplified her fear of informing Jeff Thompson even more. Preferring to remain in her bubble than bare the harsh reality of being rejected by yet another person.

The centre of Sade's universe shifted in May 1974, when she gave birth to Jasper Kingsley Shacklebolt. Sade who once believed the world could only be appreciated in a fast-pace, suddenly longed for time to stand still. Her nights were consumed with watching Jasper sleeping in his cot, experiencing the moments of his growth made her beam with pride. Motherhood, the thing that she spent nine months fearing, welcomed her with ease.

That didn't mean the guilt didn't chip away at her, every first moment, was tainted by a pang of guilt. Knowing that Jeff was out there, completely unaware that he was missing moments of his son.

Five years on, Sade is beginning to get a sense of her old self back. As Jasper gets a tad older, the itch of ambition has begun to nip at her heels once again. In recent months, she successfully interviewed for a desk clerk position at the Department of International Magical Cooperation to get back into the world of politics. Not wanting to sit by as the war ravages even closer to her and her family's doorstep.

[hellsurvivr]

... › ⁽ ⁴ ⁾ for, @razorfst closed & plotted starter .....

         TEETH SINK INTO THE FLESH OF HER BOTTOM LIP,    as the results of the match are determined. a draw. not the outcome any of them were looking for, and one she knew andrei wasn't. she had known how much this match meat to him, how much he had wanted a win here. and she had wanted it too. it was the main reason she had made her return early. her own match having only ended, a scant 16 hours ago, and she'd forgone all press and anything that would keep her away from this match. including getting her own health checked, despite the fact she knew she had a fractured rib or three. (    not to mention the bruises decorating her face and eyes!    )  it was just another sentiment of their world, but she was here, and supporting him. because nothing meant more. and the look he'd shot her when he'd noticed her in the crowd, made it all the more worth it. sighing softly as the match comes to a close. she quickly shoves people out of the way.   absolutely dying for a pee.    and honestly, andrei didn't need to see her doing a jig, because of her need for a pee. not when she knew his mind would already be a mess. and consider this a loss, when it wasn't.

        their friendship    ━   was a strange one.   and payne wouldn't deny that. given andrei was known for not letting anyone close. just his father. but she had been determined and stubborn. despite all the warnings from her trainer, and pretty much everyone. she sought to become his friend, and she would like to say it was easy, but it wasn't. not even close and she understood it. she was as protective of her family name as he was.     (    not that he knew that though!    )    and thus started their weird friendship. with the two not only training together sometimes, but also attending each other's fights. payne was highly aware of the new moniker she had been branded with, via the boxing world. ANDREI'S GIRL. which was amusing as hell, given they were just friends. but it wasn't her fault. that separately they were ice, not letting anyone close, but together they let it all slip away. after all, no one had a clue, on just how long she had to work to get it that way. and she wouldn't let anything destroy it. not even herself.

        finally managing to find where she's going, after taking half an hour to go for a piss and then getting lost. as lord this arena was confusing. she pushes past the bodies that are in her way, and feels no sympathy for those she hits with her elbow, and finally gets to the room housing andrei. pushing inside, and making sure none of the press catches a glimpse, she quickly shuts the door. she can see a surprised look on costin's face, but thinks nothing of it. he wouldn't give her answers.    (    so there was no point asking!    )    and with a soft smile, she turns a tired, bruised and weary glance over to andrei, still able to keep her smile soft for him.           ❛   sorry i had to pee, but got lost on the way back .....   ❜    HER WORDS ARE BLUNT.   and yet truthful as they normally are. shifting she leans against the far wall, keeping herself contained and out the way of the after-fight routine. she had one, and hated if anyone interrupted it. so instead she's silent for once. and idly picks at a small cut on her hand.

                as she see's costin and the others leave    ━   she pushes off the wall.   and walks towards andrei. biting on her pierced lip, she does something she hadn't yet and pulls him into a hug. fingers trailing over his tense shoulders.            ❛   i'm proud of you. a draw doesn't mean you lost or failed. so get that shit outta your head as i know it's in there. and listen to me lupei. i'm proud of you.   ❜    she had a feeling of the weight on his shoulders. she'd felt it herself, when she was trying to clean the declerq name.    (    to undo the damage of her father and brother!    )    and she wished someone had said those words to her. someone who wasn't her mother. so she offers them freely to her friend. her smile is genuine as she pulls back and skims tattooed fingers over his features.           ❛   hmmmm, still ruggedly handsome, those poor women when they see you.   ❜    HER WORDS A TEASE.   she brings tattooed fingers up to skim over his features, as she attempts to return them to equal footing. with her being her usual, mischievous self, and aiming to make him smile.

[swimmingninjaarcade]

Trust the Experts: Certified CoolSculpting Providers in El Paso

Introduction

Are you bored with obdurate fats that with no difficulty may not be able to look to move away, notwithstanding the way quite a bit you weight loss program or pastime? If so, CoolSculpting is perhaps the reply one could had been searching out. This slicing aspect non-surgical fat reduction therapeutic has won attractiveness in up to the moment years for its way to function and dispose of undesirable fats cells without surgical remedy or downtime. In this article, we are able to discover the ideal authorized CoolSculpting providers in El Paso who have the improvement and ride so that you can aid you in accomplishing your physique goals.

Trust the Experts: Certified CoolSculpting Providers in El Paso

When it includes one thing as primary as your physique, it's principal to self assurance the authorities. Certified CoolSculpting suppliers in El Paso have gone through awesome undertaking and CoolSculpting treatment El Paso certification to determine that that they have the know-how and capabilities massive to supply secure and high satisfactory recuperation procedures. These owners are skilled in assessing personality needs and rising personalised cure plans that concentrate on targeted locations of hindrance. By deciding on out an authorized provider, you're well prepared to have peace of mind realizing that you just are in geared up arms.

The Benefits of Choosing a Certified CoolSculpting Provider

Expertise: Certified CoolSculpting organizations have finished rigorous instruction systems that include both theoretical knowledge and clever software. They are most excellent-versed throughout the state of the art approaches and enhancements in CoolSculpting technological expertise, ensuring they may be in a situation to bring surest results for their victims.

Safety: CoolSculpting is a possibility-loose procedure when completed via trained professionals. Certified vendors adhere to strict sincere practices protocols and education to shrink any potential poor facets or topics in the course of remedy.

Customized Approach: Each guy or person females is one-of-a-model, and certified establishments realise the value of tailoring treatments to take care of specific worries. They make an effort to evaluate your desires, speak your demands, and create a personalized remedy plan it's perfect in your body and wanted stop final result.

Quality Results: Certified CoolSculpting capabilities have a song document of turning in noticeable impact. They have experience running with a a extensive range of determination of victims and physique paperwork, allowing them to attain most terrific have an impression on for his or her clients.

CoolSculpting FAQs CoolSculpting What is CoolSculpting?

CoolSculpting is a non-invasive fats aid healing that uses controlled cooling to cause and dispose of stubborn fats cells. It is FDA-cleared and has been established to be a nontoxic and helpful method for decreasing undesirable fats in a whole lot of places of the body.

How does CoolSculpting work?

During a CoolSculpting cure, an applicator is located on the designated subject, turning in controlled cooling that freezes the fats cells less than the dermis. The frozen fats cells are then simply eradicated through formulation of the physique through the years, resulting in a more suitable sculpted and contoured noticeable allur

[alwaysshamelesshideout]

A Glimpse into 'CoolSculpting Arms Before and After' Transformations

Introduction

Are you bored with hiding your flabby arms? Do you dream of getting toned and sculpted fingers that make you imagine confident and gorgeous? If so, CoolSculpting ought to be may becould really well be the solution for you. In this newsletter, we will be able to be ready to take a better test the brilliant ameliorations with a purpose to most probably be carried out with CoolSculpting on the arms. From earlier than and after photographs to genuine-existence reports, we will detect the effectiveness of this resourceful healing in reshaping and contouring the hands. So, allow's dive in and come across the world of CoolSculpting hands formerly and after ameliorations.

CoolSculpting: What is it?

CoolSculpting is a non-invasive body contouring means that uses controlled cooling to put off obdurate fat cells. It is FDA-regular and has won attractiveness as a hazard-free and confident alternative to surgical systems reminiscent of liposuction. The therapy works through by way of freezing fats cells in unique locations, causing them to crystallize and die. Over time, the body naturally removes those lifeless cells, resulting in a greater sculpted and toned appearance.

CoolSculpting Arms: Targeted Fat Reduction

The palms are some of the important loads uncomplicated spaces whereby individuals fight with added fats. Unfortunately, fundamental weight-loss methods infrequently fail to handle this assorted foremost situation region. This is where CoolSculpting entails the rescue. By precisely that specialize in and taking away fat cells inside the fingers, it makes it possible for to cut back unwanted flab and create a added explained arm contour.

Before & After: The Results Speak for Themselves

One of the prime techniques to fully clutch the transformative power of CoolSculpting at the arms is by using driving observing at sooner than and after pix. These visible representations train off authentic-existence of us who've surpassed via the remedy and experienced dazzling improvements of their arm visible appeal. Let's take a glimpse into loads of these remarkable ameliorations.

Case Study 1: Sarah's Journey to Toned Arms

Sarah, a 35-one year-historic mom of two, had primarily struggled with excess arm fat that made her definitely experience self-broad wakeful. Despite her efforts to exercise by means of and good sized and eat a in form weight loss program, she might in no method in accomplishing the sculpted arms she favored. After getting to know nearly CoolSculpting's capacity, she determined to deliver it a are attempting. Just a couple of months after nearest CoolSculpting center her medicinal drug, Sarah considered a sizeable discount in arm fats and a more defined arm contour. She ultimately felt wonderful enough to wear sleeveless tops and show off her toned arms.

"CoolSculpting has been a game-changer for me. I under no circumstances thought I could be able to remove my stubborn arm fat without surgical procedure. The results keep in touch for themselves, and I couldn't be happier!" Case Study 2: John's Success Story

John, a 42-12 months-antique unique, had your complete time been afflicted with the help of his flabby fingers. As somebody who recurrently wore short-sleeved shirts for art work, he felt insecure about the technique his hands regarded. After gaining knowledge of particularly just a few alternatives, he c

[marylmacdonaldarchive]

'𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞

BASIC INFORMATION FULL NAME: Mary Louise Macdonald NICKNAME: Mare, M GENDER: Cisfemale SEXUALITY: Pansexual DATE OF BIRTH: 1 June AGE: 22 years old PLACE OF BIRTH: Nottingham, England OCCUPATION: Barmaiden at the Three Broomsticks, training at St. Mungo's as a mediwitch LOYALTY: (Formerly) The Order HOGWARTS HOUSE: Gryffindor

APPEARANCE FACE CLAIM: Hannah Dodd NOTABLE FEATURES: A shy smile and a heart that's worn on her sleeve BODY MODIFICATIONS: She has her ears pierced: lobes twice, helix on her left ear and tragus on her right PERSONALITY ZODIAC: Gemini MBTI ALIGMENT: ISFJ MORAL ALIGNMENT: Lawful neutral CLASSICAL ELEMENT: Earth LOVE LANGUAGE: Physical touch / words of affirmation POSITIVE TRAITS: Resourceful, loyal, compassionate NEGATIVE TRAITS: Evasive, naïve, stubborn ADDITIONAL WAND TYPE: 10 inches, holly, dragon heartstring PATRONUS: Dolphin BOGGART: The death of her family/friends PARENTS: Unknown father (unknown), Margaret Macdonald (mother, alive) SIBLINGS: n/a CHILDREN: n/a SPOUSE: n/a

BIOGRAPHY

Mary Macdonald’s life began with a story of mystery, the result of a one-night stand. Her mother wove various tales about Mary’s father, yet never disclosed his identity. Raised by both her mother and grandmother, Mary learned the art of baking and discovered the joy of dancing in any situation from an early age.

Mary grew up as a bubbly and optimistic child, her mind filled with fairytales and dreams. At the age of eight, when she started showing signs of magic, her grandmother nearly had a heart attack, while her mother laughed and encouraged her, despite not fully understanding the phenomenon. The arrival of her Hogwarts letter made everything clear. Mary, with a natural talent for learning, was eager to embrace the unknown, even if it meant she might be at a disadvantage compared to others.

The Sorting Hat instantly placed her in Gryffindor, recognizing her natural charm and determination. Mary quickly bonded with her roommates and housemates, dismissing those who judged her for her blood status, never fully grasping their prejudice. A hopeless romantic, Mary sought the love stories she read about in novels and wore her heart on her sleeve. Though she faced heartbreak more than once, she always managed to pick herself up and keep going.

When the war began to loom on the horizon, Mary felt a sense of anxiety that she hadn’t before. People like her were being targeted. She faced comments at school and afterwards, but she didn’t allow it to deter her. As soon as she was allowed, she joined the Order of the Phoenix, determined to fight for people like her. 

The brunette dreamed of being a healer after graduating but put it on the back burner and instead chose to do various jobs while the war went on. After, she felt like she could finally breathe. Now, she finally has taken an internship at St. Mungo’s to train as a mediwitch and is a barmaiden at the Three Broomsticks in her spare time.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

friends and confidants former housemates coworkers previous flings, exes, people who have broke her heart, etc (give me drama) rivals a bad influence forbidden romance (angst) literally anything and everything <3

[exanimateisacomic]

Levi decides to burn off his anxious and pent up energy by using Eliza’s home gym (with her assistance of course)

A few weeks go by and Seth wakes up and notices the results

“Woah.” He looked down at his more toned body and his stubborn body fat was reduced quite a bit. His build was about the same, only his face was slimmer and his shirts felt a tad loose on him now.

He stumbled into the kitchen and sat down next to Eliza

“So…Levi has been going at it?” He said to her

Eliza nodded. “He was very determined to achieve something. He didn’t quite tell me his final fitness goal, but it’s been a lot of core training and stretching exercises”

Seth looked confused “but I feel like I lost some weight?”

Eliza continued “that was my idea, I have him on a diet, or at the very least reduce the amount of food he usually eats. It took a little time and a few cheat days, but he’s been eating a lot better now. More proteins and greens.”

“I see, Guess I should continue this pattern of good behavior.” He declared as he reached for an apple and a banana. “I guess I kinda lost sight of a normal diet around high school”

“You’re young, you’ll be fine” said eliza as she took a sip of her green tea “at least you’re doing it in a more conventional and healthy manner and not-“

They were interrupted by Luis stumbling through the kitchen door, reeking of cheap booze. “I’m- (burp) I’m gonna go and-and take this.” He mumbled as he reached under the kitchen sink and pulled out a big baggie of unidentified white powder.

“gotta keep my waist line thin like a razor. Speaking of” he reached once more and procured a double edged shaving blade

“now I’m off.” He struggled to get to his feet and stumbled back through the doors.

Seth looked at the doorframe and down towards the kitchen sink “he keeps drugs down there?”

Eliza nodded with an exhausted look on her face “yeah, at least he remembered to keep it in the baggie this time. You should’ve seen him snort up the baking soda and powdered drain cleaner. Terrible sight.”

Seth peeled the banana slowly as he thought of Luis’ body convulsing and foaming at the mouth as he gasped for air “I can only imagine” he muttered before taking a bite.

[worldhell-archiving]

❝ ━━━━ I'm not perfect! Not yet. But I'm still leagues better than you.

FULL NAME. Laurentius Adlyn Alexander TITLE. Laura Alexander AGE. 28 GENDER. Cis Female PRONOUNS. She/Her BIRTH DATE. July 2nd, 822 ZODIAC. Cancer ORIENTATION. Demiromantic / Demisexual

SPECIES. Human OCCUPATION. Military Soilder (MP), Suvery Corps. (Former) AFFILIATED. Military Police BIRTHPLACE. Wall Sina, Stohess District RESIDENCE. Wall Sina, Stohess District

RELATIVES. Alaric Alexander (Father, alive), Claudelle Alexander (mother, alive), Norman Albrecht (unborn son, dead), Rickard Albrecht (husband/dead) SIGNIFICANT OTHER. Verse Dependent PETS. Valkyrie, horse

PINTEREST BOARD | SPOTIFY PLAYLIST |

FACECLAIM. Sasaki Rena EYES. Light blue, #d2ebfa HAIR COLOUR. Black, tailbone length - classic length HEIGHT. 163cm BODY TYPE. Ectomorph DOMINANT HAND. Right SCARS. Abdominal Scars PIERCINGS. none OTHER REMARKABLE FEATURES. Beauty mark, under left eye.

long black hair and icy blue eyes (often looking white), petite stature and height, her parents praised her looks and scolded when she tarnished it; either with nasty expression, or more recently, with dangerous work. Her muscles aren’t as defined as they were five years ago, and strength was never her strong point, rather using momentum and speed to cut down Titans. Because of injuries sustained, her stomach / torso is heavily scarred. She regularly wears the Military uniform.

submerging a competitive spirit which had once been the backbone of her accomplishments during her heyday. The ruse she plays to herself is that there was no true freedom to the world, and so she shut out all ambitions to fight against the creatures keeping them as if they were cattle; those who fight outside the walls are ignorant, and filled by selfish desires not fitted to save humanity. All she sees is dead bodies without result. A hopeless fight. Deep down she can’t forget; and her true personality seeps through. It shows in her take down of criminals, of a low-lit passion to retain order; to glare daggers behind the backs of ranking officers after listening to their ideals, and lack of ambition. To the corruption within the regiment. As someone of aristocratic blood, there is always an air of elegance and superiority that has always followed her; but it never stems from her family. There is ferocity in her stance, an ignorance to those who see only her prestige upbringing, and a terrifying devotion to fight until her bones broke, until she could barely stand. Now, that too is dimmed, with only the graceful strength of her status within the Military to provide her any authority.

CHARACTER TRAITS. resilient, brave, cautious, independent, determined, argumentative, bossy, impatient, obnoxious, stubborn MBTI. Logistician Your personality type code is ISTJ-A MORAL ALIGNMENT. Chaotic Neutral ENNEAGRAM TYPE . THE CHALLENGER

year 822 - Laura is born, Stohess District

year 840 - Laura enlists in the training corp. east division 

year 843 - Laura graduates top 10 (1) and joins the Survey Corp, active for two years.

year 845 (early) - Laura marries Rickard Albrecht and falls pregnant with their soon to be son, Norman. Moves to Wall Maria, South.

year 845 (late) - the breach of Shiganshina and Wall Maria. After these gruesome events, she moves back to Stohess District.

year 846 - joins the Military Police, active four years and current.

timeline based on canon events and heavily preestablished (won't be using for first interactions or people uncomfortable with original character plot in the main timeline)

Trial

The Military Police call for his dissection and execution. To keep hold of their influence and lessen suspicion of Survey Corps. activity in their test, Laura is appointed to watch over the expedition and report back any anomality's or potential schemes to keep Eren if the mission fails.

The Female Titan arc

Undisclosed information. Laura doesn't report back the incidents of the excursion, and collaborates to buy more time before Eren is handed to the Military Police. She is not given information over the events that would transpire in Stohess District, and joins the Military and Scouts to evacuate and protect the people. She is part of the clean up crew after the tragic events.

[fitnesswithdan]

You Don't need to FAST to Lose Body Fat | fitnesswithdan

You Don't need to FAST to Lose Body Fat | fitnesswithdan ✅ Stay Connected With Me. 🔔 Subscribe To Channel For More Great Content To Training Videos To Help You Get FIT, STRONG, and FLEXIBLE! https://www.youtube.com/@fitnesswithdan ✅ For Business Enquiries: fitnesswithdanm@gmail.com ============================= ✅ My Playlists: 👉 Calisthenics https://www.youtube.com/@fitnesswithdan/playlists ✅ Other Videos You Might Be Interested In Watching: 👉 How to Tell If You're Skinny Fat (and what to do if you are) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2t8WeFiX45k 👉 Top 8 Bodyweight Exercises That Work Every Muscle https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fXKWUR_8nZc 👉 How to do PERFECT SQUATS - DO THIS, NOT THAT! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sd7oGhpBlCA 👉 0 to PULL UPS with ZERO progressions using this method! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=77gn0E2bgVc ============================= ✅ About FitnessWithDan: Danny McCartney is a certified nutrition and weight management consultant accredited by the Association of Nutrition (AfN). A hybrid athlete who has completed 100 mile ultra marathons aka centurion races in the same day. Has also competed in The Dragon Ride, one of the oldest and most iconic cycling events in the UK, renowned for being the toughest and most legendary in Britain. Completed the Prudential ride 100 route on 3 separate occasions. Tags: You Don't need to FAST to Lose Body Fat | fitnesswithdan,fitnesswithdan,You Don't need to FAST to Lose Body Fat,FAST to Lose Body Fat,how to lose belly fat,how to lose weight,how to lose fat,how to lose belly fat fast,how to lose stubborn belly fat,how to lose fat fast,how to lose body fat,best way to lose weight,how to burn belly fat,how to lose weight fast,best way to lose fat,how to get rid of belly fat,how to lose belly fat at home As a functional fitness expert Danny is now communicating some of his training expertise onto his YouTube channel. If you enjoy the content don't forget to hit the subscribe button! Thanks for watching! For Collaboration and Business inquiries please use the contact information below: 📩 Email: fitnesswithdanm@gmail.com 🔔 Subscribe now for the new content to live more active and healthy! https://www.youtube.com/@fitnesswithdan ================================= #stopdoingdumbbellrowslikethismistake #dumbbellrowmistake #perfectdumbbellrow #howtodumbbellrow #howtodoadumbbellrow #dumbbellrowmistakes #dumbbellrowform #dumbbellrowmistakethepath #perfectworkoutexercises #exercisemistakestoavoid Disclaimer: You should consult your physician or other health care professional before starting this or any other fitness program to determine if it is right for your needs. Do not start this fitness program if your physician or health care provider advises against it.We do not accept any liability for any loss or damage which is incurred from you acting or not acting as a result of watching any of my publications. You acknowledge that you use the information I provide at your own risk. Do your own research. Copyright Notice: This video and my YouTube channel contain dialog, music, and images that are property of FitnessWithDan. You are authorized to share the video link and channel, and embed this video in your website or others as long as a linkback to my Youtube Channel is provided. © FitnessWithDan https://ift.tt/joHnfMb https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O8zOKu6A6Ag

[hopelesshawks]

WOAH WOAH is your MHA reqs open?? So I wanted to request a Todoroki x Reader Angst where Todoroki sees his s/o getting stabbed by a villain with countless sharp spears like in Chiaki’s death video in danganronpa along with 1-A and just loses it? I’m sorry I’m craving for angst rn ✨✨ also love your writing and remember to stay safe <33 💕💗

My requests are open yes!! I have actually missed receiving them (and tbf I’m prolly not getting them because I’m doing daily updates on History of Us hahaha). So thanks for the request anon. I’m also really touched that you love my writing 🥰 I hope this lives up to your impression of me!

I had never seen danganropa but I just looked up what you were talking about and w o w I am in ✨pain✨ 🥲 I’ve got you anon. It’s going to hurt but I got you. Did I drag out (y/n)’s last words? Yes. Would they realistically already have died before saying all that I have them say? Probably. But this is fanfic and if movie writers can do it then goddamn it so can I!

CW for angst, somewhat graphic description of major character injury and death (reader), non-major character death, and canon typical violence

Nothing has been the same since the fall of the hero commission and the loss of faith in the Symbol of Peace’s generation of heroes. It’s been two years since Shigaraki wreaked havoc and Dabi exposed Endeavor’s crimes. As pros unused to that level of violence retired or quit, hero class students have been forced to step up and fill in the spaces they left behind. As a result, even as their faith in the pros waned, the public started to see the students as a beacon of hope. All Might, they whisper, spoiled the current generation of heroes. They argue that Endeavor is now too old to keep up, that Hawks and Mirko are too burdened by their mentors’ failures, and all the heroes aged in between are too used to the relative peace of the golden era to be effective. These current students though? Students like the famous UA hero class A, now third years who’ve already seen so much? They are the new hope. They’d grown up in the fires of a post-symbol of peace era and as such they are the only ones who can drag society out of it. It would be flattering if not for the overwhelming pressure that comes along with it.

Shoto thinks he would have been crushed beneath that pressure if not for you.

The two of you had started growing close your first year during the provisional license exam make up classes. Spending so much additional time together over the weekend had allowed Shoto to slowly open up to you until a beautiful friendship had blossomed. Even still, both of you had secretly yearned for something more. It was only after the destruction of Jaku City and the Todoroki family secrets were aired to the whole of Japan that the two of you finally acted on your feelings. You’d been such a source of support for him afterwards that eventually he hadn’t been able or willing to hold back any longer and had confessed his feelings to you late one night in the dorms. The two of you have been together ever since and fully intend to open a hero agency together after graduation. He knows the two of you are still young but sometimes when he looks at you with your blinding smile or when you’re sleeping peacefully beside him, he swears he can hear wedding bells. If the civilians of Japan can consistently forget how young you all are as they urge you to take over for the pros, then it seems only fair he should be able to forget too.

His mother was ecstatic when he asked her about engagement rings. Endeavor had said it was too early, that marriage is too large a commitment to make at 18 years old, but Shoto insisted and eventually a compromise was reached. He’ll wait until after graduation but then he’s determined to make you his forever and always.

It’s an otherwise normal Saturday afternoon in the dorms when Iida and Momo get an urgent distress signal to gather the entirety of the class and head into the city. A large group of ragtag criminals, determined to become the next League of Villains, is terrorizing Musutafu and the number of casualties is climbing rapidly. The other heroes usually responsible for that area had been called away to handle a different disaster and all attempts made by the civilians to defend themselves had only led to more chaos. The entire class mobilized in seconds. Calls like this aren’t uncommon now. The villains have been banding together more and their bloodlust seems to have grown exponentially with civilians’ continued lack of trust in the current pros. By the time you all arrive to the scene there’s no time to waste. “Be careful,” you tell Shoto, carefully running a hand through his hair before resting it on his cheek. He brings his hand up to cover yours before promising, “I will.” He presses a kiss to your palm but before he can do more Bakugo sharply barks “Hurry it up lovebirds we got a fucking job to do!” before racing off. You both know he’s right. “I love you,” you tell Shoto. “Love you too,” he promises before you both steel yourselves and then take off into the fray.

It’s an absolutely grueling battle. Every time someone takes one villain down, another comes to take their place. “Pinky! On your left!” you call out, causing your classmate to sharply turn. Mina just manages to dodge a punch one of the villains throws her way and swiftly counteracts with an attack of her own, calling out a thanks. There’s no time to breathe though and almost as soon as you’re done warning Mina, you have to dive in to keep another villain off Ojiro’s back. It’s chaotic but slowly you’re starting to pick away the forces as many of the remaining villains start fleeing. Once it looks like they’ve all retreated you instinctively look for Shoto, having not seen him since the fighting had properly started. You catch sight of him and heave a sigh of relief. You call out his name to catch his attention and although he initially offers you a soft smile you notice his eyes suddenly widen. “(Y/n) behind you!” he calls out.

Every moment after that seems to happen in slow motion.

You turn around just in time for a spear to fire clean through your shoulder, knocking you off balance. You start to fall backwards but before you can even hit the ground at least a dozen more rise up from the asphalt and impale your body. You hear Shoto’s broken cry of your name but it sounds so distant to you. After a moment stuck in place the spears suddenly drop back into the ground. Shoto is next to you in a second, pulling your broken body close as you bleed out. One of your other classmates tries to call for medical support but all he can focus on is you and the sheer amount of blood you’re losing. Shoto knows his training. He knows that when a victim has been stabbed it’s crucial to put pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding, but how can he when there’s so many fucking wounds. “You’re going to be ok. You’re going to be ok. You’re going to be ok.” He says it over and over again like a mantra. It’s both a plea to you and a desperate attempt to deny the harsh reality that the love of his life is bleeding out in his arms.

You press a bloody hand to his cheek, looking lovingly up at the man you’d do anything for, and shush him quietly. “Sho,” you rasp, voice already weak as your body tries and fails to cope with your injuries. “Don’t,” he warns. “Sho, baby, look at me,” you try again but he shakes his head, shutting his eyes tightly as tears start to run down his cheeks. “Please?” you ask and he can’t deny you, never could, so he opens his eyes and looks down at your glossy ones as you fight to stay awake just a little bit longer. “There they are. I always did love your eyes,” you tell him wistfully as your thumb strokes his cheek, smearing your blood there, though you don’t seem to notice. “You can’t leave me. You have to be ok,” he whispers but you shake your head. You can already feel yourself fading and with medical attention still several minutes out at least you know there’s no fixing this. “I need you to promise me something,” you tell him. “Anything,” he replies immediately and it brings a sad smile to your blood stained lips. “Promise you’ll find someone else after me,” you say and the scandalized look on his face would have probably made you laugh under different circumstances. “You’ve got too much love to give to let it die with me,” you tell him but he shakes his head again. “I could never love anyone else like I love you,” he swears and he means it with every fiber of his being. You chuckle wetly. “You always were stubborn. Fine, then promise to never forget me,” you compromise, tears welling in your own eyes now too. “I couldn’t even if I tried,” he swears before leaning down to press one last kiss to your lips. He can taste the tang of iron and feel your tears and his mingling on your cheeks. “I love you,” he whispers against your lips as he pulls away, but for the first time since he first said the words to you, you don’t say them back. “(Y/n)? Baby, I love you,” he tries again, pulling back to look at you properly now. Your eyes remain shut, your hand falling limp from his cheek, and when he looks to your chest the rise and fall of it has ceased.

Devastation claws up through him like a rabid animal, tearing him apart as his whole world shatters around him. He feels his grief like a physical ache in his chest, radiating out to each of his limbs as if every cell of his body is violently rejecting the fact that you’re gone. “Todoroki-kun?” Midoriya asks cautiously, putting a gentle hand on Shoto’s shoulder. Shoto’s head snaps up as he cradles you closer, as if scared your body will be taken away from him too. Before Midoriya can say whatever he was going to, Denki’s voice cuts through the tense silence. “I got him!” he crows, shoving the villain down to the ground in front of his classmates. Shoto’s eyes land on the villain and instantly his grief twists into a searing rage. He gently lays your body down but his eyes are cold and lethal as he stares down the man that took you away from him. Midoriya realizes what’s happening a beat too late and by the time he reaches out to grab Shoto, the grief stricken man has already launched himself at the villain and grasped hold of him. His right hand closes around the man’s throat, ice wrapping around it like a vice grip. He’s vaguely aware of his classmates calling his name but he doesn’t care. This man stole the love of his life from him. For that he will pay. Before Todoroki can finish the job he’s suddenly being yanked back by Midoriya and Bakugo. “Let go of me!” he demands as he fights against their hold, ignoring their warnings and empty platitudes. He manages to wrench his left arm free for a brief moment and that’s all he needs. His flames shoot out, preventing Midoriya from getting a good hold of him again, and the man who murdered you goes up in flame. His howls of pain echo around the buildings around them but the sound is music to Shoto’s ears. Let him suffer. It’s a fate he deserves.

His classmates watch on in stunned horror until the villain is burned down to ash. As his flames die out so too does all the fight seem to drain from Shoto as the crushing grief returns. Bakugo let’s him go once it’s clear he’s not a threat anymore and Shoto uses his freedom to drag himself back over to your lifeless body. It’s not fair. You’re so young. He’s so young. Why was this fight even you all’s responsibility in the first place? He’s been excitedly planning his proposal to you for weeks. Now he’ll have to plan a funeral. The thought makes him physically ill and he has to turn to the side as bile climbs up his throat and he retches onto the asphalt beside him.

How is he supposed to go on without you?

Midoriya returns a hand to his shoulder as the paramedics finally arrive. It’s too late. Far too late. One of them approaches cautiously and like a dog protecting his master Shoto immediately lashes out. “Don’t you fucking touch them,” he warns, eyes cold and voice lethal. The paramedic jerks backwards, his hands up in surrender, as he cautiously looks to the other class A students for advice. They have none. They’ve never seen Todoroki like this. They can’t even begin to imagine what he’s going through. It’s Eijirou who steps up in the end. He approaches Shoto carefully, as if his classmate is a feral animal, before kneeling down to his level. “They need to take (y/n) to the hospital on that stretcher over there,” Kirishima tells him carefully, jerking his head in the direction of the waiting ambulance. “Can you carry them there for the paramedics?” he asks. Shoto stares at Kirishima blankly as if trying to process his words before slowly nodding. “Ok. Let’s go then, yea?” Kiri asks. Another nod in response before Shoto carefully gathers you into his arms. He ignores the way your body has already started to go cold as he carries you over to the stretcher. He tries to pretend they’re just rushing you to the hospital, that they’re speeding you over to recovery girl and in a few hours time you’ll be tired but cheery, teasing him for being so worried about nothing. But as he lays you down and then watches them zip you up into a black bag, he knows it’s a hopeless fantasy. You’re gone and you’re never coming back.

A few days later he sits in a black suit with a black tie and a silver chain carrying an engagement ring around his neck. He leans against Fuyumi, who sits on his left side, while his mother grasps tightly onto his right hand. Behind him Natsuo rests a steady hand on his shoulder. His father hovers nearby, unsure how best to offer his support or if his support would even be welcome. They are the only thing that keeps Shoto from falling apart. When the time comes, he stands on shaky legs and approaches your open casket. At first he’d been insistent he wouldn’t look, but his mother had argued his last image of you shouldn’t be your broken body, riddled with holes. So he looks down at you, pieced back together by some mortician, lying motionless in the nicest outfit you own and he traces every detail of you. He tries to patch over the memory of you broken on the ground that haunts him every night since it’s happened with this image of you now. He pictures all of the good and beautiful moments you’ve shared together, let’s them swell in his chest until they’re too large to contain and pour out of him through his silent tears. He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your too cold forehead and mumbles to you again his final promise:

“I love you, (y/n). I’ll never forget you.”

[streetlight11]

Dystopia pt 8 (FINALE)

Summary: You were an Amity born. You were taught to value kindness and harmony. But you also valued bravery and knowledge. After the test to see which faction best suited you, you were given the choice to either stay in your faction or leave. When you chose to leave your faction for another, your whole life changed and you wondered if it was the right decision. You pondered over it at first, all until you met him.

Theme: Divergent au, strangers to lovers

Genre: mild action [I tried], angst, fluff, slowburn

Warnings: mentions of blood and violence

WC: 3.6k

Pairing: Trainer!Jungkook x Initiate!FemReader

Tips: In this whole series, Y/N is a few years younger than JK. Those who were initiates like Y/N that just ended the Choosing Ceremony, are all the same age. None of these characters portray who the mentioned people are in real life whatsoever! It's just a fictional character!

a/n: Hello! Guess what? You made it to the end! I know this is a short series but I'm more than thankful if you have made it this far. Although it's quite short for a finale, I hope I didn't disappoint you too much! But anyways, here's the final part for this series :) Enjoyyy

~~~

With hurried steps, all three of them quickly hollered their way through the facility in hopes that they would reach the dorms in time. Jungkook’s heart was beating so fast against his chest, unsure if he could even calm himself down knowing something bad had happened to you. That was the last thing he wanted. From the day he saw you a few weeks back, he knew he would like you.

He knew there was something about you that leaves him being all clammy and nervous despite his amazing skill at hiding his emotions. Jungkook never knew he would manage to get close to you, thinking it was impossible considering he was a trainer and you were an initiate.

However, it looks like fate has a different plan for you and him when he saw you training by yourself in the middle of the night. That was when he first got to have a close interaction with you.

Even though it was just him teaching you basic tips on how to improve your skills for each of the different skill sets, he still got to talk to you and also earn your trust after a while. And as the days gradually went by, it was needless to say that Jungkook had grown so fond of you and even had a crush on you.

Yes, a Dauntless Trainer having a crush on a Dauntless Initiate.

How cute.

Ultimately, it all goes downhill for him as he finally arrives at the shared dormitory, only to find the rest of the initiates crowding around at one spot. The minute Jungkook and Changkyun pushed through the crowd, their hearts stopped for a millisecond upon seeing what the fuss was about.

There you were, cradled in Hyunjae’s arms as Gahyeon was crying with her hands desperately pressing what looks to be a completely blood soaked towel against your throat.

Your throat has been slit, not too deep to kill you but just enough to render you voiceless.

You were just turning around on your bed when you peeked your eyes open out of instinct, feeling as though you were being watched. Except, you weren’t expecting for it to be legit. Because the minute you opened your eyes, there was a hooded figure looming over you with a hand raised to their head level with what looks to be a knife from the Training Room.

Fuck!

Before your mind could react, your body seemed to move faster as your arms swiveled to a cross position over your face right when the person launched his attack to your head.

With the tip of its blade just barely missing your right eye socket.

You used all your energy to shove their hand away using your arms, only to kick their stomach harshly. They stumbled back a little before lunging back at you. However, you quickly rolled out of bed to your left, falling to the ground with a soft thud just as they plunged the blade into the mattress right where your chest would’ve been.

You rushed to your feet, making a break for it to the open toilet but your steps faltered when you felt a sharp stab to your calf.

“Ah! Fuck!” You loudly hissed to yourself.

The blade got pulled out of your leg harshly, only for you to flip around on the ground.

The person kneeled over you as they tried to stab you in the face again but you managed to grab their wrist with both hands. They were strong. A little too strong if you say so yourself. However, for some reason, you felt like you knew this person.

You were struggling. You were struggling hard to push their hand away. Mustering whatever strength you had left, you used all your power to push them back.

For a moment, you were glad that they nearly fell off you.

However, you weren’t mentally and physically ready for what he was about to do next. And that was for him to make one swift swing of his arm. It all happened so fast, you didn’t even realize what he did until you felt something wet trickle down your neck. You tried to curse at them but instead you were shocked when nothing came out of your mouth.

That wasn’t until one of your hands reached up for your throat and you felt it.

The open slit, the feeling of wet liquid, your nostrils filling with the strong smell of copper, and finally, bringing your fingers up to see your fingers coated in your own red crimson blood.

Your mouth hung agape as you tried to speak but there was nothing. Tears welled up in your eyes as the person got up and smirked down at you.

“Goodnight loser. I hope you rot in hell.”

They soon took off running, leaving you there helpless with no voice to scream for help, to tell people who did it. But of course, you weren’t stupid. Despite the lack of light, only an idiot couldn’t catch on easily. For there is only one person who calls you ‘Loser’ right from the start. Your doubts were confirmed the minute that nickname left their lips.

Dumb move Yeonjun.

Since you couldn’t scream for help, you slowly began to drag yourself across the room, leaving a long trail of blood behind your leg where you got stabbed only to reach the end of Gahyeon’s bed.

With one swift grasp, you managed to hold onto her shirt and that was enough to wake her.

It took her a second to realize what happened until she saw the trail of blood on the floor and your bleeding throat that you were desperately putting pressure on. She let out a shrilling scream before yelling for help from the others. Everyone began to panic at the gruesome scene, making Hyunjae cradle you while Yunho rushed out to get help.

Jungkook carried you to the hospital wing, with Gahyeon, Hyunjae, Yunho and Changkyun tagging along. One of the nurses inspected your injury, seeing that you’ve lost quite a bit of blood. She mentioned that they had to give you some blood in order to save you and they have to be the same blood type as yours. After much inspection, it was clear that only Jungkook and Hyunjae shared the same blood type as you.

Both of them offered to donate some of their blood to you to save your life. While the two were being drawn of their blood, Changkyun went ahead and brought the other two back to their dormitory to rest. You were already laying there on the medical bed unconscious which means you couldn’t feel the way Gahyeon gently gave your blood coated hands a small squeeze.

“Please be okay, Y/N.” She whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek. Yunho comforted the girl before they both left with Changkyun.

A few minutes later, the nurse managed to collect as much blood as you probably needed after losing them quite a bit. She placed a bandaid over the spots where she injected the tube in their arms. After she was done, she dismissed the two boys but Jungkook asked if he could stay.

She nodded, setting up the equipment so that the blood she collected from the two gentlemen could be transferred into your body through the IV in your hand.

Hyunjae left after caressing the top of your head, wishing you a speedy recovery.

The nurse went ahead and disinfected your wounds before suturing the open cuts and wrapping them with bandages. Once she was done, she excused herself, leaving you alone with Jungkook as the male went over to scoot his chair closer to your side. Jungkook carefully reaches for your hand that didn’t have the needle attached. He brings it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry this happened to you Y/N. You truly don’t deserve this…” Jungkook whispered as he stood up to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead.

He felt sorry. He felt sick. He felt confused. But more importantly, he felt furious at whoever did this to you. Of course he didn’t know who but you knew.

You woke up to a sharp pain in your throat, feeling it get itchy like an unusual sore throat. The prickling pain in your right calf made your leg jolt as you shot your tired eyes open. The morning sun filled the room. You carefully looked around to find you alone in the room which looks to be the hospital wing.

Memories from last night suddenly came flashing into your mind like a tsunami, and yet, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around it.

Did that really happen?

Was it all a dream?

You almost didn’t want to believe it until your hands reached up to your throat and you felt the soft material of the bandage taped onto your neck. Of course, your stubbornness was trying to make you think otherwise so you opened your mouth to speak.

Truth be told, nothing comes out of your mouth. Absolutely nothing. Not even a sound.

Your thoughts were swirling, a million things running across your head at that very moment. From the incident last night to the final evaluation test you were supposed to have today. The test was supposed to determine your final results of your initiation. It was supposed to determine whether you get to stay in Dauntless or you get kicked out and become Factionless.

Of course, there are two ways of getting that second option. First is by failing Stage 3, and second is of course by not attending the final test at all.

How wonderful.

As your mind was swirling with these complications, you completely missed the figure that was making their way to you. It wasn’t until they were a few feet from you that you looked up only to lock eyes with Jungkook.

Immediately, a whole swarm of emotions came rushing through you as you began to cry. Jungkook rushed over to you, only to hush you.

“Shh… Shh… Don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m here. You’re fine. I’m here.” Jungkook cooed as he held you in his arms, feeling the way your arms wrapped around his waist tightly like you were afraid he might disappear if you let go. His heart swelled upon feeling his shirt get soaked from your tears.

Your silent cries only made his heart drop even more. Jungkook caressed the back of your head lovingly, making sure to give you small reassuring kisses to the side of your head as a way to hopefully calm you down.

You both stayed like that for a bit before he sang you a sweet song in your ear.

Jungkook felt your body relax in his touch, happy that his singing made you calmer. After a while, he pulled away slowly to look you in the eye. How is it possible that you are just sitting there crying your eyes out and yet you still looked beautiful? Or maybe it’s just him.

Who knows.

Nevertheless, he wipes your tears with his thumbs and soon smiles down at you.

“You’re so strong. You’re a strong girl Y/N. And I really admire you for that.” He whispered. You couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile when you felt him boop your nose with his own. You had so much to say to him. So much you wanted to share with him. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on your side today. Just then, Jungkook’s smile faltered and it made you curious.

You reached for his wrist where his hand was just cupping your face softly, to catch his attention. You silently asked him what’s wrong through your worried eyes, hoping he could read your mind.

Thankfully, he did.

“The final stage… It starts in 5 minutes. I talked to the leaders about your current condition. I tried my best to change their mind, Changkyun did try too… Unfortunately, the leaders made an agreement to… disqualify you, which means… y-you…” Jungkook paused as he struggled to convey the message to you but you already knew what it meant.

You violently shook your head at him. You had to redeem yourself. You didn’t plan for this to happen. You were forced to be in this damn medical bed out of your own will. Oh if only they saw who did this to you, would they gladly throw him to the Factionless.

“Decision has been made. Since you can’t physically be there, you’re immediately disqualified.” Jungkook said as you shook your head again. There must be something about the way you were staring at him because at that very moment, it was as though you sent him a message through telepathy.

“Wait a minute… For the final test, you don’t need to talk. You… just need to be physically there for the simulation.” Jungkook said in realization as your eyes lit up.

“Does that mean… she’s immediately disqualified?” Gahyeon asked sadly, only for Hyunjae to nod.

“I mean, technically according to the rules, you are supposed to be here physically for the final test… So, I guess that’s true then…” Hyunjae said.

The rest of them who were gathered by the side of the hall where the final stage would take place, shared mostly the same emotions about you not being able to join them which would render you as Factionless by default even after all your hard work.

However, it looks like someone couldn’t care less about you not making it.

“Who cares? She doesn't belong in Dauntless anyway.” Yeonjun rolls his eyes as he walks to the front, leaning against one of the pillars. Your friends exchanged a few glances to one another, not feeling good about the way he said that. A few minutes passed, and they had just finished the test with the third person on the list. All the initiates were anxious as they waited for their turn. Soon enough, the Dauntless leader calls out the next name to be on stage.

“Y/F/N.”

With that, the room fell silent as the initiates looked at each other with deep frowns on their faces. A few beats of silences went by, not a single sign of you anywhere. Meanwhile, Yeonjun had that devilish smirk on his face as he felt satisfied with your lack of presence.

Unfortunately, just as the leader was about to call out the next person on the list, Jungkook’s voice echoed around the hall from the opposite end of where the initiates were gathered. That’s when Jungkook emerged through the double doors with you beside him.

He had one arm wrapped around your waist as you limped your way to the platform where the chair was waiting for you. Your friends cheered for your arrival as they shouted a string of goodlucks to you. Yeonjun growled, totally not expecting to find you still alive.

Maybe he didn’t cut you deep enough.

You immediately recognized the lady who was prepping the tools to put you into simulation, to be the same lady you met on your Initiation test.

After you sat down, Jungkook gave your waist a little squeeze before he smiled down at you and whispered, “Goodluck.”

He soon left your side as the lady asked you if you were ready. You gave her a small nod, letting her inject the needle into your neck right below your ear.

Once the serum had been injected into your system, it took effect right away, bringing you to your first simulation. It was the same simulations you went through during your Stage 2. They were all of your fears connecting one simulation to the other. You managed to remember what Jungkook taught you during the past few weeks and how to properly handle each situation like a fellow Dauntless.

The minute your last simulation ended, you woke up calmly only for the lady to smile.

“You did well.” She complimented you as she helped you sit up. Jungkook came to your side and very gently led you off the platform.

“Good job. Looks like my tips worked huh?” Jungkook asked, to which you smiled, feeling shy all of a sudden. He guided you to the side only for your friends to rush over to you.

“Sweetie! You’re okay! How are you?” Gahyeon asked as she hugged you, making you return her hug. You showed an ‘okay’ sign with your hand before Yunho ruffled your hair. “Of course you are, you’re a beast Y/N.” His comment made some of them laugh, including you. Just then, your eyes drifted to your left only to meet Yeonjun’s fiery eyes.

All you wanted to do was throw him in The Pit. The last thing you wanted was to see his competitive ass everyday from now on.

However, you weren’t going to kill him despite all the pain he’s caused you.

After letting you meet up with your friends, Jungkook brought you back to his penthouse to let you rest. He carefully laid you down on his bed, pulling his blanket up to your chest while you snuggled into his side with your head resting on his chest. Jungkook chuckled as he caressed your hair, tucking them behind your ear, making sure to let his fingers softly trace the side of your face as he did so.

“No matter what the results are, I’m never leaving your side. That, I can promise you.” Jungkook said softly as you tilted your head up to look at him. You wished you could speak. You wished you could verbally say this to him outloud. Unfortunately you couldn’t.

In the end, you opted for the saying ‘Actions speak louder than words’ and so, with that being said, you lifted your head up and used your left elbow to prop your body up on the mattress.

Jungkook watched you carefully as you slowly leaned in only to press your lips softly on his. Almost instantly, he wrapped one arm around your waist while the other allowed his fingers to tangle into your soft locks. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek, letting your thumb trace the scar he had on his left cheekbone. You felt him smile against your lips as he pulled away for a breath.

His eyes fluttered open to find your cute ones staring back at him. Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle as he gently massaged your scalp in a calming manner.

“If that is your way of telling me what I think it is, then I’ll be the one to confirm verbally that I feel the same way too…” Jungkook’s voice was smooth and sultry in your ears, it almost made you melt into a puddle. Almost.

So with one more kiss from him, your heart raced in your chest as he pulled away to let his lips hover over yours before he said the words you’ve been meaning to tell him.

“I love you Y/N.”

Prologue

6 months had passed, you ended up staying in Dauntless together with Gahyeon, Hyunjae and Yunho. Right after the final stage, you gave Jungkook the weapon Yeonjun used to attack you the night before the final stage. After investigating the weapon and finding evidence that confirms Yeonjun was indeed the attacker, he was immediately thrown out of Dauntless. Rendering him Factionless.

Yes, that jerk deserved it.

Yunho was given the role of a guard due to his unfortunate ranking but hey, at least he wasn’t Factionless.

Gahyeon was a trainer for Dauntless-born initiates while you and Hyunjae were trainers for faction transfers. Although, you only started becoming one after the 3rd month when you were starting to be able to talk again.

And how was your relationship with Jungkook, might I ask?

Well, just splendid.

Your relationship with him only grew stronger each day as he took care of you during the first few months when you still had difficulties to talk. He was always there for you when you needed someone to back you up in heated arguments.

Jungkook took you to visit your parents the day after the final stage. No doubt your parents got upset over what happened to their daughter, they were more than thankful that you were still alive and that Jungkook was there to keep you sane. As the months go by, Jungkook’s feelings for you bloomed.

Today was another day of training for you and your initiates where you managed to guide the new initiates along with Hyunjae’s help.

You were just standing off to the side, letting Hyunjae take over for the knife throwing session when you suddenly felt a pair of strong arms wrapping itself around your waist. You giggled as you turned your head to find Jungkook’s face just mere inches away from yours.

“Not here, love… We’re in the middle of training.” You whispered, earning a soft chuckle from him before he peppered your cheek with kisses.

“Can’t I just give my beautiful girlfriend some loving kisses before I go to my meeting?” Jungkook teased, making you giggle.

“Aren’t you being needy?” You laughed.

“Only when I miss you…”

“We literally saw each other an hour ago, Kook.”

“I know.” Jungkook grinned cutely at you only for you to push his face away gently while you laughed.

“Hmm, needy indeed.”

“Hey…” He pouted at you. Of course your heart couldn’t bear to see his sad pout so you turned to face him completely. Reaching up with both hands to hold his face, you pressed your lips on his before pulling away to see his silly smile on his face.

“I love you.” You whispered as you felt him hug you.

“I love you more.”

That was the last thing you heard as Changkyun’s voice beckons your boyfriend over from a few feet behind Jungkook. “Come on lovebird, we gotta go… See you later Y/N.” Changkyun chuckled as he wiggled his index finger towards Jungkook. Your boyfriend gives you one last kiss before he jogs over to his older friend.

Maybe joining Dauntless wasn’t as bad as you thought after all.

~~~

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a/n: Thank you for reading this series! Do check out my other fics if you're interested to read more of my writings! ❤️

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