#I live in the outskirts of the city I went to school in that city and go downtown pretty frequently

[ghostickle]

Every single time I give something to anyone that needs help someone will always be like oh they’re probably faking or they’re gonna use the money to buy drugs or they’ll steal your info or whatever and my guy first off nothing bad has ever happened and second $5 to someone who needs it could actually make a difference but if it’s someone who has plenty it literally doesn’t matter it makes no difference and also where are you buying drugs for five fuckin dollars.

[ja3yun]

The Sun That Always Burns | S.JY Finale

sim jaeyun x afab!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), oral (f rec.), pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, pet names, dirty talk, i think thats the main stuff, ynjake are so fucking cute so, fluff, reconnection.

wc: 8.7k

synopsis: you and jake's high school relationship blossomed into a romance filled with hope and promise. However, as time went on, jake's long-term expectations began to weigh heavily on you, who struggled to meet them. your paths eventually lead you in separate directions, each experiencing different aspects of life and ultimately moving on from your past love. unexpectedly, fate intervened and you both reunite after years apart. the reunion allows you to rediscover your feelings for each other but also forces you to navigate the complexities of your past and present.

a/n: it's officially over :( i just want to say thank you to everyone who read the series, left comments, and likes! i hope the ending was what you wanted it to be. see you for the sunghoon series!

masterlist

Irony is a funny thing. So is deja vu. As you sit on a train heading home you can’t help but take in your surroundings and laugh at how you have found yourself running away from Jaeyun once again. You find it harder to convince yourself this is the right choice this time, nonetheless. Eunseo is right, you can’t take Jaeyun from Yeoreum. It’s selfish for you to walk in, raise hell, and get your happily ever after, leaving a trail of destruction behind you. You have already caused so much pain and confusion. 

Parts of you know it isn’t your fault, you didn’t know he was going to be there getting married. You did, however, have the opportunity to come clean, to disappear into the wind once again and let them live their happy life, yet you didn’t. Why? 

Selfishness? Ignorance? Love.

It was all for love. You and Jaeyun’s souls are bound by a connection greater than anyone can fathom and as soon as they found their way back to one another you couldn’t stop them from stitching back together, from loving each other. That’s why it feels like dying as you let him go. Just like the first time.

Looking out the train window you see the outskirts of the city you once lived in. It had been a long time since you stepped foot back home and to say you were nervous would be a massive understatement. Pieces of you are scattered around the city, memories of you from a lifetime before. Recollections of your past started to fade the more you were in Pyeongchang, largely due to the fact that you didn’t speak a word of your past to anyone for 4 years. 

Your mind drifts to your mum and dad. Mr. Sim said they had a hard time and that upsets you. In a way, you wish you could go back in time and just tell them not to tell Jaeyun where you were so you could keep your relationship with your parents alight. You have a lot of regrets about that day. 

Stepping off the train you smell the same caramelised nuts from when you were a teenager.

__

When you walked up to the Son family house, it was big, like a mansion. Nothing like your childhood home you were briskly walking up to right now. Carting your bag up the driveway your mouth goes moist, like you’re going to vomit any minute. If you were being honest with yourself you would admit that the anxiety you’re feeling seeing your parents again was overwhelming. If you didn’t know your body you would genuinely believe you might die. 

Tentatively, you raise your hand to the bell, waiting to muster up the courage to press the button. “It’s just your parents, they won’t hate you.” Your voice is barely above a whisper as you convince yourself to push the button.

The ding-dong from the doorbell shoots fear straight through your chest. What if they slam the door in your face? What if they shout and scream at you? You feel like a kid again who is terrified of their parents scolding them for doing something naughty. Guess it doesn’t matter what age you are, 13 or 23, you’ll always be scared of your mum and dad.

A gust of wind hits your face as the door swings open. Your mum. Your beautiful mum. She was right in front of you and suddenly your throat closed and your tear ducts filled.

“Y-Y/N? Sweetheart?” Her mouth hangs open as she whispers out your name, scared that if she says it too loud you’ll vanish from her. You don’t move and neither does she. 

During this time you look at how she’s aged so gracefully, crow's feet that were slight are now deeper, her forehead is adorned with new wrinkles, and her laugh lines are starting to appear. Your mum didn’t just miss you growing up, you missed her growing up too.

The wind blows around you and it pulls you both out of your trance.

“Hi, mum.” You wave nervously, your voice cracking, “How ha-”

Pulling you into her she hugs you tight, her arms squeezing around your neck as she takes in your scent. She can’t believe her baby is right in front of her. There is an astronomical amount of comfort in her hug, but she might squeeze you to death if she grips on any longer. “Mum…too tight.” Laughing slightly as you shed a tear.

“Sorry, sorry, I just can’t,” Her eyes drag over you and suddenly that sweet and soft look turns harsh and you know exactly what is coming, “Where have you been, young lady? Do you know how many times I called the police to look for you? How much time I spent worrying? My hair has turned grey because of you!” 

You laugh and hug her again, “I missed you too, mum.” Her tense body from the scolding she gave you flutters away, this hug holding every apology and forgiveness in it.

Your dad walks up to the door and he sighs relief. He never did have much to say but as he hugs both his daughter and wife, he says enough. 

“Welcome home, honey.”

___

After what felt like hours of explaining everything to your mum and dad, you finally felt the exhaustion hit you. It was hard to blabber out everything that had happened in the past week never mind the past 4 years. When you spoke about Jaeyun they also told you about how it affected him. 

He was a mess according to them. Jaeyun was never home, looking around every motel, all your friends' houses, and hospitals, he even went to every train station with your picture begging people to tell him if they had seen you. It shattered your heart to know that you did that to him. He said he went searching but somehow hearing it in detail from your parents made it worse, like you were there living it with him. 

Yet, here you are, doing it again to him. You can’t even find peace in the fact that at least he has a life to continue with because deep routed within you, you selfishly need it to be you that he’s with. 

As you drag yourself up to your childhood bedroom you feel the depression you felt that clouded you 4 years ago. It’s heavy and you can’t even be bothered to lift your feet to the next step. Talking about it all just puts everything into a clear and concise perspective.

You can’t have him. 

Opening the door you are hit with a massive wave of nostalgia. Everything was exactly in the same place; your plushies, the clothes you threw out of your wardrobe as you packed, and the posters of Monsta X and Seventeen are plastered along the walls. Suddenly you’re 19 again.

You place your bag down on your desk chair and sigh, beginning to tidy up your surroundings. Now you’re older you understand why your mum was always infuriated with the mess of your room and how she cleaned it for you. You’ll thank her properly for all those times tomorrow.

Walking to the pile of clothes you had on the floor you trifle through them and laugh, your fashion sure hasn’t changed. You haven’t really changed all that much if you think about it. One piece of clothing in your peripheral vision catches your eye. A simple black stretch t-shirt with a Lacoste logo embroidered on the right side. It was his t-shirt. 

Your fingers instinctively reach for it, picking it up gently and bringing it to your nose. Somehow it still smells like him, like the him you had the pleasure of calling yours. Gripping it tight you bury your face into it, soaking his essence up. A memory of the last time you remember him wearing it projects in your head. 

He was coming back from football practice and stopped at your house to see you. You think about how pretty he looked that day with his baseball cap put on backward, a silver chain peeking from under this very t-shirt you’re holding. How could someone be so effortlessly beautiful? 

“Baby?” He said waltzing into your room, still high from a successful practice. You were lying on top of your bed with earphones in.

“Jaeyun!” You beamed and sat up a little as you took an earphone out, “thought you were going to Heeseung’s after practice?” 

“Nah, wasn’t feeling it. I’ve used up my social battery for today I think.” He takes the earphone from you and places it in his ear. 

Like muscle memory, you opened your legs and he lay between them, his head placed on your tummy, arms hugging around you so his palms are placed against your back. 

“Jaeyun, if your social battery is drained, why are you here?” You look down and remove his cap, raking your hand through his hair. His puppy eyes meet yours as he looks up, his chin poking your stomach.

“Babe you know you don’t count,” he plants a kiss on your stomach, “I can never get tired of you.”

Heartache is the only feeling you have right now. Everything was so simple back then and you had to ruin it. How many chances did you miss to lay with him like that because you were stupid enough to leave him? 

All the conversations from the last few days swirl in your mind.

‘I would have made long distance work.’ 

‘Baby, I love you’

‘They don’t want him to marry her.’

‘You’ll make the right choice’

’If those reasons don’t matter anymore, you should do what you think is best.’

‘He would leave my sister for you’

It was all too much and you only had yourself to blame. You can’t shake this heaviness in your chest, the only peace you’re finding is in the comfort of his old t-shirt. 

Slipping out of your clothes you forget about cleaning your room, too sad to focus. If you can’t even clear up your thoughts what chance do you have cleaning this mess up? You strip down to your panties before putting on his t-shirt. It fits the way it used to, it’s slightly baggy and ends just on the very top of your thighs. Something about your body being engulfed in something that’s his makes you tranquil. 

You pull your covers back and slink into bed, the sensation strangely foreign despite the years you slept here. As you get comfortable, Jaeyun’s t-shirt wafts, and it’s like he’s in bed with you.

You cry yourself to sleep and dream of a better reality. One with you in his arms. One where you are his.

___

A loud thump at the door jolts you from your slumber. Someone is pounding at the front door and the sudden rude wake-up makes your heart match the rapid bangs. 

Creeping downstairs to not make a sound, your eyes are scanning the lower ground floor for any sign of your parents, fuck, any sign of life at this point. Your dad always said not to answer the door if they ‘chap it like a copper’ so you’re very apprehensive. 

“Dad?” You whisper shout and another couple of hard knocks scare you again. This is it. You’re going to die. It’s karma for all your mistakes. 

It seems you’re the only one home and you stomp your feet like a bratty child trying to build the courage to open the door. “If I die tell Jooheon I loved him.” You say to no one in particular, just anyone that will head your plea.

Unlocking the door you slowly open it and have your eyes tight shut, ready for the worst. 

“Y/N…” 

That voice. His voice. 

You pry one of your eyes open to see if your ears are deceiving you. They aren’t.

“Jaeyun? W-what are you doing here?” You look around behind him in bewilderment and then back into your house searching for the time. “You’re getting married in like-” Whipping your head around you don’t get to finish your sentence.

“I’m not marrying her.”

Shock pulses through your veins. Guilt pours into your heart. This is your fault. 

Your water line was filling with tears at the thought of you ruining his new relationship, ruining his new life all because you were an idiot. You stayed too long, let yourselves get attached again. 

A scoff of disbelief leaves your mouth and you shake your head. “You can’t be serious?”

Looking into his eyes was the worst thing you could have done. He’s tired and drained, he’s looking at you like you hold the universe. Waves of all emotions crash onto you at once and you try to fight back the tears. 

“I’m so serious, baby.” He steps forward and you step back, “No, no, no, Y/N, don’t run from this. Did you think I wouldn’t come chasing after you this time? I love you, Y/N. I can’t live without you, not again.” 

Jaeyun spent the whole night driving, his first stop was at your flat in Pyeongchang. He begged Eunseo for the address and after a hard slap to his face, she gave him it. Jaeyun asked as a shot in the dark, expecting no result, but Eunseo saw the way he was frantically running around the house looking for you. She couldn’t see three broken hearts from this situation. When you weren’t at your flat there was only one place you would be. Here.

You shake your head full-on crying now and trying to get away from him but he yanks you back until your chest is pressed against his. His lips are dangerously close to your chapped ones. Sucking in your bottom lip you sob and look down, “Tell me you want us. Tell me you felt everything I felt this week.”

His words aren’t registering in your head. All you are thinking about is how this is exactly the situation you wanted to avoid back those years ago, Jaeyun giving up everything he has worked hard for, just for you. “You can’t do that. You can’t leave her.”

“If it meant I would have you back I would do anything. I’d break anyone’s heart to be able to hold yours again.” Jaeyun’s eyes are holding tears as his heart beats loudly in his chest and you feel it softly. Only soulmates can notice minute things like that. His words echo in your head and you sob loudly, covering your mouth. “I’ll ask you again, tell me you want this, us.” He’s begging for permission to love you again, to just be yours again.

Jaeyun’s feelings for you never left. When he went to Busan and attended Apollo College he was a shell of a person with only two emotions inside him longing and love, both just for you. 

“You started your new life for a reason, you gotta live it.” Despite your words trying to separate you both you find yourself practically melting into him, becoming one again. 

“Baby, please,” He kisses your forehead and feels you exhale in contentment at his lips laid upon you once again, “I might be living this life but if I don’t have you I’ll spend all of it failing to get over you, just like I have been.” Lips graze from your temple to your cheek, etching their way to your lips, brushing ever so slightly. “What you asked that night at the club, you meant it.”

Confusion sparks on your face, “huh?”

“When you asked me not to marry Yeoreum.”

Shock. 

You’re in complete shock. You didn’t say that, did you? There is no way did. Jaeyun sees the confusion written across your face. You really don’t remember. 

“I saw it in your eyes, in the way you kissed me, touched me. Y/N, it’s fate that you turned up.” Jaeyun’s lips are touching yours as he speaks, patiently waiting for you to give him the green light to devour you in a kiss. But you don’t.

There is so much to lose. Friendships, families, opportunities. Eunseo meant so much to you, if you take Jaeyun away from her sister you’ll lose her. But you’ll lose Jaeyun if you don’t take this chance. You’d be so selfish to say yes to him, to break Eunseo’s heart. To break Yeoreum’s heart. “What about Yeoreum? What about her?”

“I told her everything,” His big hand is holding the right side of your face now, “about us, about how I felt, that I think deep down we both knew we didn’t want this wedding. I wasn’t over you and Yeoreum wasn’t able to live with a husband that couldn’t be 100% hers. And she shouldn’t have to.”

“But you love her.” That’s what you had always thought.

“I loved that she was a distraction from you. When she and I met I was just hooking up with her,” There is pain on your face as he says those words and he rubs the apple of your cheek, “I know, I’m sorry baby, but you gotta hear me out.” He continues, “It was casual, she was good to me, patient. But no one was ever going to shine a light compared to you. One day she was just…my girlfriend.”

You shut your eyes. Honestly, you didn’t want to hear any of this. Of course, you knew she got to have him and touch him the way you used to, but when someone says it so brashly it makes your skin crawl. Especially when it was coming from his lips.

“I told her I wasn’t over you but she said she could help. After that…” Jaeyun continues to thumb your cheek, hoping it provides some comfort and reassurance. “I thought I fell in love with her. Really I did. I even asked her to marry me but I was just in love with the fact that she made me forget you, even for like a millisecond.” He rubs his nose with yours, sighing and closing his eyes, “Believe me, Princess, when I tell you I thought about you every single fucking minute of the day.” 

You did believe him because you did the exact same thing. Even in your dreams, he was always there. 

“Then when I turned around and saw you at the party on Tuesday,” He bites his lip and opens his eyes, almost rolling them at the thought of you in that dress, “Nothing was distracting me. I kissed her and suddenly all I could think of was you again. Your lips, how you made me feel. Fuck, Y/N, you’re the only one that ever let me just be me. How could I truly love someone that I can’t even be myself around.” 

The sobs in your chest rumble as you hold them in but it’s getting hard to breathe. “Shh, baby, relax.” He can feel you struggle for air and he wraps you tight in a hug, “Princess, I love you.”

As he feels your arms wrap around him and hears you crying, he guides you into the house and kicks the door shut to give you some privacy.

Crying hard into his chest he simply soothes you, gently caressing your back and kissing your hair. It’s all too much for you to process. 

One side of you feels guilty, he was happy with Yeoreum before you showed up. The wedding that was meant to take place today is canceled because of you.

The other side of you feels like it’s floating, finally free of a burden. You can love Jaeyun with all your heart because you have the opportunity to be his.

“Princess, look at me.” Jaeyun’s pointer finger lifts your chin, both your eyes meeting, glazed in water. “I’ve already called off the wedding, baby. Either you have me or you don’t. The decision is yours and I’ll respect it.” He smiles sadly, “but if you say no then I’m single and honestly I can’t bear to download a dating app. I refuse.” Jaeyun jokes to lighten the mood and you laugh loudly, masked in a sob. 

He’s right, there’s nothing really stopping you from being together now. You’re basically graduated, and so is he. He has a job in Busan which is like media hub central so you could easily find work. There is no reason to torture your souls anymore.

“Okay.”

“Huh?” Jaeyun��s eyes widen and dart over every detail on your face, waiting to hear what he wants to.

“I love you so much, Jaeyun.” It’s your turn to reach your hand to his cheek, your palm only covering a fraction of what he covers on yours. “I want to be yours. Forever.”

A second. It took one whole second before Jaeyun’s lips were devouring yours, those beautiful full pink lips pressed hard against your own. Not one thought left in any of your heads other than each other. 

You’re both desperate, clashing with one another. Jaeyun dips down and his hands slide down your ass to your thighs, picking you up so you are sitting on his hands, legs enfold around his waist. Not once did you stop kissing him. 

He carries you up the stairs, his feet moving instinctively and quickly to your bedroom like it was just yesterday. Jaeyun knew the scope of your house in every light and darkness with how many times he snuck in to fuck you late at night or had dinner with your family.

When he reaches the top step he bounces you up so you’re more secure on his waist but as your core presses down on his hardening cock he groans. He missed the way you felt and even this teaser was almost sending him over the edge, tempting him to just take you in the hallway.

Kissing Jaeyun felt like sunflowers blossoming in your stomach and out of your mouth, pouring sweetness and love into every smooch, every tongue flick. He rushes into your bedroom and almost falls over the mess. Fuck, you really should have cleaned your room.

Jaeyun’s hands grip you tighter to stop you from falling, “Sorry, Princess.” He places you down gently and goes right back to kissing you, his hands roaming the soft skin under your t-shirt. 

That’s when he notices what you’re wearing. His t-shirt. One he thought he lost when packing to leave for Busnan, but it was with you. Just like his heart. “I thought I lost this.” There’s a double connotation to his words. Yes, it was about the t-shirt, but it was also about you and your love. You look down and sheepishly grin.

“I found it when I came back here.” You say while his hands take the bottom of the t-shirt and rub it.

A smirk plastered on his face, “Damn,” he tuts, “Here I was having thoughts about you touching yourself wearing it while we weren’t together.” 

Oh, Jaeyun hasn’t changed one bit. Still horny, still obsessed with you. Playfully you roll your eyes. “Bold of you to assume I didn’t have another t-shirt of yours.” 

If a grown man could purr, he would have. Closing his eyes, he had to compose himself for a moment before he busted a nut right there and then. You use the moment to massage your hands up his torso and on his chest, rubbing your thumbs over his nipples. The purr turns into a whine as he grabs you tightly on your waist. “Fucking love you so much, Y/N.”

Jaeyun’s lips are back on yours with force as he pushes you onto the bed, his weight hovering over you. The heat emanating from both your bodies feels like the sun has been turned up by 100, his touches light up your skin, and his lips leave sunburnt kisses all over your neck. The way he’s desperately clutching your skin proves to you how much he missed you.

“I wanna fuck you in this t-shirt but shit, I gotta see all of you, baby.” Jaeyun pants in your ear. He’s like a dog on heat, just aching to have you, to consume every inch of you. His tongue runs down your neck until he reaches your collarbone but you need more than this.

While he’s kissing and biting the base of your neck he’s gripping at the t-shirt that’s covering his second favourite part of you and lifting it to uncover your tits. Jaeyun peels himself away from you for a second to admire your figure. God how he has missed your body - the softness of your skin, the way each of your boobs fall slightly to the side when you’re on your back like this, and how your nipples stand proudly. It’s mouth-watering.

“Sit up a bit for me, Princess,” Jaeyun says as he takes off your t-shirt and that’s when he sees the necklace again. He noticed you wearing it the whole week and it made him feel proud, like part of you always belonged to him. His pointer finger holds the chain away from your neck and his smile is beaming. “You never took it off? Like ever?”

“No. I couldn’t” You confess, looking down at it, the sun symbol shining as brightly as the first night he gave it to you. Jaeyun’s smile widened further if that was even possible. Something about you always being branded by him made him feel feral. You were always his and it made him feel guilty because literally yesterday he was getting prepared for his wedding to someone who wasn’t you.

You see his face change to a look you’ve not seen before, “Hey,” Your hand reaches for his face, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry. For ever being with someone else.” Your heart shatters. It’s not his fault, none of it is.

“Jaeyun you never have to apologise for trying to move on. I left you without a word, it’s only natural you would move on.”

“But I didn’t. I couldn’t move on.” His hands are massaging your tits as he speaks and it’s sending your brain into a frenzy. It’s been so long since he touched you so intimately yet so commonly. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put into words the love I have for you.”

As his hands knead your breasts he feels your heart skip and it entices him to lean down and kiss you softly. The act between the two of you right now is so pure and raw. It’s meant to be. 

You kiss him back gently, your tongue slipping into his mouth. The taste of him is so delicious you can’t help but moan and your hands rake through his thick hair. Instinctively, your back arches and pushes into him, the motion causing your tits to mold further into his hands, and the flesh spills between his fingers. 

Jaeyun keeps one hand on your left tit while the other slips down past your waist, the pads of his fingers etching hearts into your skin just like that day in the car. The feeling of his gentle touch is making your stomach do cartwheels and your core aching to be touched. You rub your thighs together to create some friction that will help ease the neediness. He notices you wriggling and he knows exactly what you’re doing.

“Am I not going fast enough for you, Princess?” He smirks, his middle finger dips into your pants just enough to sit in the waistband. You’re throwing your head back, preparing yourself for him to touch you where you need him but instead all his motions stop, causing you to open your eyes and go back to looking at him.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“You seem to be pleasing yourself all on your own, baby,” Jaeyun’s eyes fall down to look at your legs rubbing together like they’re two sticks and you’re in the woods trying to start a fire, “Don’t want to interrupt you.” 

Oh, he is evil. It’s been 4 years since his hands have been on you and he still has the reserve within him to tease you. 

Jaeyun sits back and grabs your hand, placing it on his wrist. “Use it.”

“Use what?” You’re genuinely confused.

“My hand. Use it how you want. Tell me what you want since you seem to be so desperate and clearly I’m not doing it right.” His tone is unbothered but mocking. There’s a glint in his eye that’s almost challenging you. He’s so fucking hot.

Taking a harsher grip on his wrist, you open your legs and push his hand to cup your heat. He never let you take charge before so you’re apprehensive but you need to take your pennies before they disappear. 

His hand stays there doing nothing and you look at him expectantly. Why isn’t he doing anything? 

Putting your hand to ghost over his you push it down, his palm now pressed hard against your vagina yet he still doesn’t move. His head shakes as he pouts, “That all you want? Come on baby, I thought you were desperate. Hmm?” Somehow his voice is an octave lower and it elicits your pussy to drip through your pants and onto his palm. When Jaeyun feels it he smirks, licking his bottom lip. “Your bodies telling me everything, but you gotta use your words, Princess.” 

You’re feeling a little defiant, he’s too cocky in this situation and you want to take him down a peg or two. So you press the bottom of his palm to your clit and start to grind on it.

When Jaeyun carried you up the stairs not even 30 minutes ago you thought the sex would be sweet, full of confessions and whispered promises to never leave each other again considering the emotional rollercoaster you both went on this week. But you should have known better, that was never his style. 

The sensation of his rigid palm against your nub was sensational and you were gasping when it rubbed you a certain way. You could get off just by doing this but you needed more. More of him.

Jaeyun can see your internal conflict of whether or not to tell him what you want. He leans down, his breath tickling your ear as he speaks, “Princess,” he nips at your lobe, “give in?”

“N-no.” You’re trying to focus on the pleasure you’re feeling but your entrance is clenching around nothing like it’s talking to you and telling you it needs to be filled by something. Anything at all. Jaeyun. 

He tuts and sighs heavily, pulling back and watching you grind on his hand. “Since when didn’t you listen to me?” His middle finger suddenly rubs in between your folds, ghosting over your hole and you could cry with happiness but he stops as soon as he starts, “Want more of that?”

Nodding quickly you stare at him desperately, your hips never stopping the action that’s giving you satisfaction. “Tell me.” 

It was almost like he was asking you to beg him. 

And that is exactly what you do.

“Fuck, please Jaeyun, I need your fingers inside me.”

“There’s my good girl.” He kisses your temple and his once limp hand now gains its strength as it takes over. Finally.

Jaeyun doesn’t know how he’s restrained himself this long. If he wasn’t so in love with the way you act when he teases you he probably would have fucked you and made you cum 3 times already. But it’s the first time in so long since he’s had you like this, he was going to make sure he gave you everything he had. Showed you just how much he missed you.

After pulling your underwear down, two fingers breach your entrance and you throw yourself back onto the bed, gasping as you finally feel some sort of release. He thrusts them in slowly, gliding them in and out as he stretches you out in a way only he knows how. 

Right now Jaeyun didn’t want to think about how you’ve probably been touched by someone else but god does he love to have his ego boosted, so he asks the question, “You’re so tight, baby. All those other guys not fuck you right?”

You can’t believe he’s bringing this up right now. Of course he would surmise that you probably had sex. It has been 4 years and you weren’t going to go celibate your whole life. But to ask it while his fingers are fucking you open, curling into you like he was gesturing for your orgasm to come closer? He sure did pick his times. You know what he’s looking for, what he is looking the hear.

“No,” your voice was quiet, almost lost amongst the wet noises your pussy was making as Jaeyun picks up the pace, “No one fucked me like you do.”

“Because I’m the only one that can fuck you good. Isn’t that right?” His fingers start to scissor you open further causing you to lift your hips and bury the back of your head into the mattress. Jaeyun’s free hand lays flat across your lower abdomen and pushes your hips back down, the pressure only adding to your gratification. 

He was right though, not one other person ever fucked you as good as him. The way he would listen to your body was otherworldly, always giving you exactly what you craved. All those boys from college just looking for a quick fuck didn’t care about you or if you came. Not like Jaeyun who thought if he made you cum only twice it was a weak night.

“I only want you.” You confess his heart could flutter straight from his chest. Jaeyun had missed the way you would just casually say the prettiest things, especially when you were so fucked out like this. He smiles widely and kisses your tummy.

“And I only need you,” he replies, his lips still lingering under your navel. 

His thumb rubs your clit and you’re seeing stars, a coil erupting in your stomach. Jaeyun feels you cumming and goes harder with his fingers, thrusting them up at a rapid pace just the way you liked and putting pressure on your sensitive bud. “That’s it, Princess.” He talks you through it but you’re too far gone to hear a word he says, “So fucking beautiful cumming on my fingers like this. Such a good girl for me. I love you so much.” He says these cute but filthy words in between kisses he’s planting on your forehead. 

As you come down from your high you don’t get a chance to breathe as you feel your legs being pinned open and Jaeyun’s tongue is lapping up your cum. “J-Jaeyun give me a…give me a minute.” But he doesn’t let up, lost in your essence, drinking your cum like it’s the sweetest thing since honey. 

Your taste has been missed. Jaeyun almost forgot how addicting your pussy is. Messily he starts to lick and suck at your overstimulated nub, he’s eating you like a man starved and you can’t help but be brought close to release once again. 

His tongue dips into you, curling as he slurps up every trace of your last orgasm. Your fingers find his hair to grip on while you moan profanities into the warm air.

“Tug on it, Princess,” Jaeyun instructed and you did just that. Yanking his hair emanated a low groan from the boy between your legs, his hips humping the mattress to try and relieve the pressure in his trousers. If he didn’t make you cum again soon he would spill right into his boxers. That situation only happened once when it was his birthday and you wore those cute frilly pants that he loved. You let him eat you out with them still on, the fabric rubbing against his nose, and when you came all over his face he came in his boxers. 

Jaeyun’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the memory, only spurring him on to devour you even more in this moment. He feels your walls contracting around his tongue so he pulls out and puts his mouth to work back on your clit.

“S-shit, Jaeyun,” The grip you have on his hair tightens, “I’m gonna cum again.”

The smirk on his face didn’t match the butterflies in his chest. His cocky exterior was a mask for how much he was anticipating your release on his face, how he was so giddy with excitement that he got to soak you up, something he thought would never happen again.

“Let go, love. Give it to me.” He wanted to sound confident but he practically whined it, begging for your nectar. He was hungry for it, for you.

His words have you cumming again and the sound that erupts from your mouth has Jaeyun growling into your pussy. He was the one making you cry out in pleasure like that and he was confident no one else ever had. 

Your chest is heaving, pants echo in the room but Jaeyun is still between your legs, cleaning every last drop from you. 

“Jaeyun, please…” You go to shut your thighs but you can’t, his hands forcing them to stay open. He wasn’t done with you but you don’t know how much more you can take. “Baby, I’ve only got one more in me, max.” It’s embarrassing to admit it but you haven’t cum like this in so long, and you wanted to cum on his dick at least once today. 

His big eyes twinkle as he peaks his head up. “What?” He looked so cute you contemplate if you could really cum 2 more times.

Playing with his luscious now slightly damp hair you smile at him, “I can push for one more but I want it to be on your cock.” Almost like your words pulled him out of his trance he smiled, placing one last kiss on your clit before sitting up. 

“Remember you used to be able to cum like 6 times in one night?”

“Yes,” You roll your eyes and smile, “but that was when you had me trained. I’ve not cum more than once in, oh I don’t know, 4 years.” 

The arrogance radiating off him was so sexy. Jaeyun’s ego was the size of a hot air balloon as you disclose the information that he is in fact the only man who can make you feel good like this. 

His hand pets your pussy as he leans down again, “Don’t worry, I’ll train you back up in no time.” 

“Um, Jaeyun?” 

“Yeah?” His eyes meet yours waiting for you to continue.

“Did you just speak to my vagina?” 

There’s a silence and then laughter from both of you. Now that Jaeyun hears you acknowledge his actions out loud he realises how strange it must have looked. He brings his hand to scratch the back of his neck as his laugh gets louder.

“Yes?” He chuckles and places his hands on his hips in embarrassment, “Sorry.”

“Is that a new thing you picked up? Talking to genitals?” You shuffle up so you’re sitting straight, legs spread as wide as the smile on your face.

Jaeyun shrugs, “Sometimes it’s a very stimulating conversation.”

Your eyebrows raise, “Oh really? And what is my pussy saying to you now?”

Crawling towards you he smirks and his puppy-like eyes are blown out with love and lust, “It’s telling me that it needs to be fucked so good it’ll start barking.” You laugh again. He’s so silly and stupid. He’s your Jaeyun.

Once you both stop laughing you place your hand on his face, stroking your thumb on the squishy part of his cheeks. You both look at each other and instantly understand one another. The apologies, the pining, the need, the love. You could almost cry right there and then as his eyes whisper a soulful ‘I love you’, you can’t ever imagine living without him again.

“I love you so much, you know that right? You know I never stopped?” The hand that was on his face now wipes his mouth clean of your cum. Jaeyun wouldn’t have cared if your juices stayed there forever, at least he could taste you all the time.

“I know, Princess. I love you more than the moon and the stars.” Jaeyun’s bottom lip juts out and you take the opportunity to kiss it, sucking it a little and tasting yourself on him. 

Sitting on his knees he deepens the kiss, leaving you breathless. Your hands unbutton his trousers clumsily and he smiles into the kiss. “Want a hand?”

“Shut the fuck up,” You laugh, “I’m distracted.” Jaeyun beams and nuzzles your nose.

Standing up, Jaeyun pulls down his trousers and goes to follow it with his boxers but he swiftly turns around and heads for your drawer, looking to locate a condom. He pulls out the shiny blue packet and examines it, “Baby?” He twirls to you, the packet in between his middle and pointer finger, “You think these have an expiration date?” 

You watch him look thoroughly at the packet. If he didn’t look so cute right now you would be wondering how he can be so bright but so dumb at the same time. “Jaeyun, baby, did you not take sex ed?”

“Huh?” He’s puzzled.

“They lose effect over time? 3-5 years max? Ring any bells?” You’re trying to hold in a laugh as his eyebrows furrow together.

“When did we learn that?” He’s racking his brain for any recollection of the class, then i clicks his fingers and point to you, “Ah, Mrs. Lee. That was the class I made those little boat hats in.”

He was so proud of himself, every time he had the class he timed how many he could make within the hour.

“I think I still have the pink one you made me in here somewhere,” You scour the room to see if it was easily available. “Anyway, you don’t need it.”

“The boat hat?”

“No-” Oh my days he is unbelievable you think to yourself “No the condom you idiot!” You’re shaking your head in disbelief. He is truly so stupid. “You don’t have to use one, unless you want to, of course.” You let him decide what to do. However, you’re patience is wearing thin and you’re getting chilly due to you sitting on the bed naked.  

“Seriously?” Jaeyun never thought he would get to feel your raw pussy ever again. That one time you let him fuck you without a condom was the best thing he ever experienced. With Yeoreum he always wore a condom despite her protests most times. He just couldn’t risk it, being a dad so soon wasn’t worth it regardless of how good it would feel. That and he only wanted to have sex raw with you, no one else. “Are you on the pill?”

“I got a coil put in last year.” You shudder at the memory and pain. It was easily in the top 5 most uncomfortable moments you went through, but right now you’re glad you got it.

“Did you fuck guys without a condom?” His voice is hurt and his arms drop to his side, face frowning. Jaeyun didn’t want anyone else’s cock feeling your walls the way he did. It was his pleasure to have, not anyone else

You quickly shake your head sit up more alert than before, hands flying to your chest as if to swear on your heart. “Oh god no, baby. My periods got like, really really bad. I got the IUD because they said it would help.” How could he think that? You couldn’t do that to him.

Seeing him physically relax eases your own mind. “Okay, good. I was worried there for a second.”

“You never fucked Yeoreum without one?” Her name leaving your lips leaves a bitter feeling in your mouth and his ears. He mumbles a ‘no of course not' and throws the probably expired condom back into the drawer. 

Jaeyun walks towards you with a small smile on his face, relief evident. Now he can make love to you with full confidence that he is, and will be, the only man to ever truly feel you. He steps out of his boxers and you’re almost salivating at the sight, drool threatening to drip down your chin. You’ve missed it so much.

You reach your hand out but he slaps it away lightly. Protesting with a soft ‘hey’ you go to touch him again but it’s the same result.

“Princess, I love that you wanna gag around my cock but I need to be inside you, like, right now.” Your walls throb at his words. His effect on you and your body needs to be studied one of these days.

Before you know it, he’s pushing you to lay on your back, kissing all over your face and neck, each kiss meaning more than the last.

“You’re hearts beating,” You say quietly as he sucks on the sweet spot just under your ear.

“Yeah baby, kinda how I stay alive,” Feeling his smile on your neck as his tongue licks you gets you even wetter than before, if that was possible, “I didn’t miraculously turn into Edward Cullen.” 

“A girl can dream,” You joke. A slap across your pussy makes you yelp and open your eyes wide. “What was that for?”

Shrugging, Jaeyun smirks, “For thinking about another guy.”

“You brought him u-”

Slap.

The stinging on your pussy brings you to a halt. “Stop that!” 

Slap

You can’t deny how much it’s turning you on, the groan that slips from your lips plasters a smirk on Jaeyun’s face. “Be a good girl, yeah?” His hand goes back to your pussy to soothe the nipping.

Having sex like this again was invigorating for him, he missed this so much. He missed you. 

Replacing his hand with his dick he starts to collect your wettness on the tip of his cock. He looks into your eyes for permission to go and as soon as you nod he slips the head of his cock in. “Fuck.” 

The pace is slow as he takes in the feeling of your cunt hugging him so tight, fitting him like a glove. When he pulls back, the tip snags on your hole and he repeats this until your begging him for more. “Babe please, faster.” 

He speeds up, his hips driving into you as he bottoms out each time he lunges forward, his head pecking kisses to your cervix. He’s so deep in you, that the unfamiliar familiar feeling begins to overwhelm you. Jaeyun’s pubic bone is lightly hitting your overstimulated clit and it’s making you thrash under him. “Jae-Jaeyun please,” 

“What is it, baby?” The soft-spoken tone of his words is a juxtaposition to his relentless thrusts that are battering your cunt. 

“Close.” If it was any other time, you would be embarrassed at how fast you’re cumming again, but Jaeyun would understand. He does. 

Jaeyun spits on your folds and rubs it in, focusing on your clit to bring you over the edge. The sensations are too overwhelming, between his fingers roughly rubbing your bud and his cock bruising your walls, it’s all too much and you’re cumming for the third time that day. 

The squeeze of your walls nearly has Jaeyun spilling into you but he wants this to last a little longer. “That’s it, Princess. Cumming over my cock so well,” He kisses your forehead, “Such a perfectly good girl for me.” 

Jaeyun’s lips trail down your face to your neck to your tits, his mouth taking in your right nipple. “Fucking hell, Jaeyun.” He can’t hear you because he’s too busy sucking your tit and losing himself in consuming you. 

His hips are jackhammering into you and you can’t think straight, your mind is foggy, mouth wide open, eyes have rolled back, and hands aimlessly gripping at his back and arms. You haven’t been fucked like this in years, hell, you don’t think you and Jaeyun have ever had sex as good as this. 

Jaeyun mentally agrees with you as he starts to lose his rhythm but still gives you his all. His mouth leaves your nipple as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, “Fuck, Y/N, can’t hold back anymore.”

Despite his energy depleting, his thrusts are still sharp and his hands are holding you down by your hips, leaving you no option but to just lay there and take his powerful hits. Not that you minded, this is exactly how you like it.

You don’t truly believe it but you think you might cum again. To make sure you get there in time with him you reach down and rub yourself, mewling loudly in his ear at the feeling. 

Jaeyun’s head peaks up to look at you, “You gonna cum with me, Sweetheart?” The nickname isn’t used often but when he does whisper it, it’s your favourite one.

“Y-yes oh god yes.” 

Jaeyun kisses you hungrily as your words help him spill his seed into you, the white strings shooting straight into you and it mixes with your own release. You both chant each other's names along with some expletives, Jaeyun dropping in 2 ‘I love you’s’ just for added measure.

A few minutes later once you both had time to compose yourselves, Jaeyun falls to the side of you and stares at the ceiling. He was so content with everything in this moment. You are back in his arms, he’s just had the best sex of his life, and his heart finally feels like it’s beating with a purpose other than just living. It’s beating for you and that is the best feeling in the world.

“I love you, Jaeyun.” You turn your face to the side to look at him, eyes smiling softly. 

He takes your hand and lays a kiss on top of it. “I love you too, Y/N.” 

None of you have to say any more than that right now. It’s enough.

He sits up and inspects your body, some bruises were his fingers dug in too deep forming and he frowns. He didn’t mean to go so hard but quite frankly he wouldn’t take it back.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Planting a kiss on your head he makes a b-line for downstairs, grabbing a glass of water and some paracetamol for you. 

When he comes back, you’re sitting up, leaning against the headboard with your eyes shut. You’re the perfect view. 

“Here, baby.” After handing you the water and pills he puts his boxers back on and gives you the black t-shirt from earlier. “Almost forgot we’re literally still at your parent's house.” His neck turns red.

“I don’t even know where they are?” You place the water on the windowsill next to your bed and pull the top over your head. Jaeyun hums and stays sitting at the edge of the bed with his head down. Gently your hand makes contact with his shoulder, “Babe? You okay?”

“You’re mine again, right?” He side eyes you because he’s too nervous to look directly at you, “Like, you’ll come to Busan with me and be my girl again?”

Your heart summersaults and you smile reassuringly. You couldn’t imagine ever being away from him again. You made that mistake the first time but never again, “I will. I’ll need to finish up Uni but that’s only a few months.” Grabbing his chin you turn him to you, “Then I’ll be home with you.”

Home. Your home.

“Marry me.” 

“What? Haven’t you had enough wedding drama for a while?”

“I’m serious!” He laughs and looks at the ceiling, thinking deeply, “Not right now, but when we’re settled. Be my wife?”

The only thing you can do is kiss him as confirmation, too overwhelmed by pure emotions to give him a verbal answer. This is truly all you’ve ever wanted.

He pulls back and smiles widely. “Wait here!” In the next few seconds, Jaeyun shoved his t-shirt on and pranced downstairs and out the front door. What is he doing? 

Hearing his car door open and shut you impatiently wait for him to come back. It doesn’t take long but why is it when you want them to hurry up time suddenly slows down. With his hands behind his back, he enters your bedroom once again. 

“Y/N L/N,” He coughs before he starts again, “I love you more than anything else in the whole world. You’re so stupid and annoying, and honestly, you’re mean.” 

Wow, you think, he’s such a charmer. 

“But you’re mine. My everything to be quite honest. I could have everything in the world and if you’re not by my side there really is no point in any of it.” He sits down beside you on the bed, hands still clasped behind him, “So, would you do me the great honour of marrying me in the distant, but please make it near, future?”

He moves his hands to the front of him and you tear up. Is it what you think it is?

Trembling, your hands take the white box and stare at it. It takes you a moment to gather up the courage to open it but when you do it’s like it opens a floodgate of tears as they ricochet down your cheeks.

The pinky ring he gave you the night before you left shines in front of you. He kept it all these years later. Jaeyun didn’t know why quite honestly because it only served as a hurtful memory. But as he sees you ogle at it, he realises it was exactly for this moment.

“My speech the first time was better I think.” Jaeyun jokes and you choke out a little sob. Taking the ring from the box he slips it onto your left pinky. It still fits perfectly. Just like you and Jaeyun. “So? Will you?”

“Yes.” Nodding your head and wiping your tears with your free hand you give him the answer he’s been waiting to hear his whole life, “I’ll marry you. Eventually.”

His forehead rests against yours. “I’m gonna love you forever.”

“Until the sun stops burning?”

“Until the sun stops burning."

[leth-writes]

Yandere Chrollo

Just a reminder that my requests are open!

Warnings: this blog is 18+. Discussions of violence and gore.

Summary: A library worker is found by the infamous phantom troupe.

This piece is more experimental, so if you want more, please let me know!

Despite having worked at the library for four years, Barbara still hadn’t quite gotten used to your presence. She tended to forget who you were, trying to kick you out from behind the desk until you flashed your badge at her. And yet, working at the library was still better than the drudgery of working retail, so at the library you remained.

Your favorite section was definitely the non-fiction, because it allowed you to get lost between the stacks, with only exhausted college students and well-meaning seniors occasionally wandering by. Even though you lived in YorkNew, your branch was on the outskirts, and was thus less visited than the main branches deeper within the sprawling city. This left you with quite a lot of free time toward the end of your shift, especially once Barbara went home. Working a closing shift meant you would average only one confused browser coming up to you per shift, allowing you to hunker down in one of the massive beanbags by the window and read away.

The weather was shifting, turning colder, and the nights were getting longer. It was approaching September, and you’d need to start prepping for the first week of school ‘rush’. At least, Barbara was convinced there would be a rush, but it wasn’t likely. Still, it was never too early to set up a couple of after-school activities to give the local kids a way to engage, especially with the recent uptick in crime.

Barbara was sure that the uptick in crime was due to some nefarious presence in the city, and honestly, you partially believed her. A series of brutal murders had rocked the city, yet the police were more focused on ramping up attention in the center of the city, around the operahouse, rather than protecting the populace. You weren’t surprised.

Chrissy, your friend from University, was waiting for you when you walked out after locking up. It was dark, without even the moon in the sky to guide you, as you both walked to the bus stop. Chrissy flicked her long black hair over her shoulder, glancing over at you. “Was your shift okay?” A hint of concern laced her voice. “Oh, it was okay. Barbara forgot where the stapler was and tried to get me to buy a new one, but that was about it. How was yours?” You left out the yelling involved in the story, of course. Chrissy smiled wanly; “I swear, the customers get younger and younger everyday. I had a ten year old come in, convinced she needed moisturizer for aging moms!” She laughed loudly, grabbing your hand and pulling you along to the bus stop.

The stop was empty and dark, no bus in sight. You checked your phone; the next one was 10 minutes away. “Do you wanna do something this weekend?” Chrissy ventured, peering over at you through her lashes. “I don’t have any plans”. “Cool. I got some tickets to some event from Mikael, some opera or auction or whatever. Wanna come with us?” She swung your connections hands between the two of you. “Alright, just to keep you from getting drunk and spilling wine on some rich socialite”. She laughed, tossing her head back. “That was one time!” 

Footsteps crunched along the gravel of the path behind you. You surreptitiously turned around; it was a tall, willowy woman with a short blond bob. She was wearing a partially unbuttoned blouse and a tight pencil skirt. Some type of businesswoman? There weren’t any offices for miles, though… The library was part of an outlet mall, so maybe she was finishing up with some shopping. Satisfied with your mental assessment, you turned away. She came to a stop just to the left of the two of you, and you pulled your sweater tighter, making sure your mark was covered. You’d accidentally rubbed the makeup off your wrist earlier after cleaning up the curry Barbara had spilled, and you wanted to make sure she didn’t catch sight of the red, raised spidery tattoo present just beyond your forearm.

The tall woman glanced at you, then Chrissy. Seeing the lack of threat you two posed, she turned away and peered down the pitch-black road.

Chrissy pulled out her wallet, before sighing. “Shit, I forgot my keys! I need to run back and grab them. I’ll see you tomorrow, hun.”. She whipped around, barely missing bumping into a tall, stocky man who was approaching the stop, shouting out a hurried “sorry!” as she sprinted down the path.

The man, who was so hunched over your neck pinged in sympathy, leered at the blonde woman. “Hey!” he called loudly, moving toward her. “Hey, you!”. He moved closer, and she shot him an annoyed look. She shifted slightly away, her eyes flicking toward you before flashing back to the man. His hand reached out to grab at her hair.

“Just leave, dude.” you mumbled, stepping toward him. He glanced over to you, before doing a double-take, as if only just at that moment noticing you. “What’s it matter to you?” he asked. “Just go home. Leave us alone.” You huffed, turning toward the road to try to spot the bus. As you stared hard into the darkness, praying the man would leave, you noticed a flicker of movement at the corner of your eye, right before you felt a hard shove. You fell forward, your hands shooting out to catch yourself before you fell directly onto the road. You groaned, brushing dirt off your palms and slowly rising to your feet. 

You looked over; the woman was staring at you, shocked, and the man was slowly lumbering away. “Are you okay?” you asked. She continued to stare. You stared back, unnerved. The impromptu staring contest lasted for almost a minute, only interrupted by the bus slowly pulling up. “Oh…kay… Well, have a nice night?” You ventured hesitantly, climbing up the steps of the bus in a hurry. The tall woman continued to stare. Just as you were turning around to find a seat, she suddenly grabbed your forearm. You started, whipping around and yanking your arm out of her grasp. “...Thanks,” she said lowly, not breaking eye contact. “Are you going to get on the bus or not, ma’am?” the bus driver’s low rumble broke the quiet moment, and you turned around again and went to find your seat. When you glanced back, the woman was gone and the door had closed.

The next day, the library was quiet as ever. Barbara was puttering around behind the desk, chatting to a younger reader who was attempting to check out without learning the name of every one of Barbara’s great-grandchildren. You smiled wryly; you wouldn’t risk getting sucked into the story of her son’s first steps, so the kid was on his own. As you moved toward the non-fiction area in the back, with its dusty red carpet and wide arched windows, you stopped to place books back in their assigned spaces, rolling the cart steadily forward. 

You were broken from your focused trance by the soft clearing of a throat. You turned around to spot a young man, smiling at you. “Hi,”you said, glancing up at him. “Hello,” he said softly. “I’m looking for a particular book, but I’m not sure where to find it…” You perked up. “Oh! Of course, I can help. What book are you looking for?” His smile softened. “I’m looking for A History of the Bible, but none of the other branches I’ve checked have had it.”. You took the moment he glanced away to assess him. He was tall, taller than you, with a lithe frame and choppy black bangs hanging over his forehead. He wore a plush black turtleneck, with dark slacks and an expensive-looking belt, though you couldn’t place the label. You hummed, nodding.

“Well, I’m not sure if we have it, but if we do, it’ll be over there.” you pointed in the direction of Christian literature. “Are you looking for other books? Even if we don’t have that specific one, we might have something else you could use.” You hedged, tilting your head as you mentally ran through the catalog.

“Hm, I’m not sure. Are you well-versed in biblical critique?” You laughed. “No, it’s an interesting field but I’ve never taken the time to pick up a book on it. Are you in university?” You asked, curious. “No, just an… avid reader.”. You hummed. “Do you have any recommendations?” His dark eyes meeting yours. Suddenly uncomfortable, you looked away. “Um, I just read a couple of things off the cart every now and then… Anyways, I have to get back to sorting the shelves…” You turned away, feeling his eyes boring into the back of your head. You hurried away, leaving the cart behind and swiftly walking into the backroom.

You let out a huge huff of air, tension draining as you left the man’s point of view. Barbara, mid-eating her lunch, looked up. She seemed to realize something had happened, because for once, she seemed concerned. “Are you alright, love?” she asked. “Yeah… yeah, I’m okay. Just rattled by a weird interaction” You turned away, walking out and moving toward the front desk. As you arrived, almost as if on cue, the phone let out a shrill ring.

You picked up the phone, absently curling the coil cord around your finger. “Hello, YorkNew Public Library, East Park branch. How can I help you?” You let the cord go, watching as it bounced in the air. “Walk outside and wait at the curb.” The voice was deep and rough, cold in its efficiency. “Excuse me? Is this a prank call? That’s not appropriate-” You began, huffing. “If you don't, the deaths of everyone in the building will be your fault.”. It felt as though a bucket of cold water had been dumped over your head, recoiling from the phone. “Listen, I don’t know who this is, but this isn’t funny. I’m going to call the police.” You went to hang up the phone, but stopped; what if it was real? What if there really was someone who would hurt everyone? Would it be better to just wait outside?

You considered, weighing your options. No. It wasn’t possible; the only people in the building at the moment were you, Barbara, and a young boy over by the arts and crafts table, innocently working on a paper project. You’d lock the doors and call the cops and they’d catch the guy and everyone would be safe. Satisfied with your plan, you slammed the receiver down and moved toward the door to lock it.

Your cellphone dinged.

Freezing, you reached into your pocket, before realizing it wasn’t in there. Where was it-? 

Your phone dinged again.

You turned around, spotting it on the counter of the desk. You cautiously approached it, the irrational, animal part of your brain half-convinced someone would jump out and attack you.

Picking it up and unlocking it, you realized it was a message from Chrissy. You swiped into your Messaging app.

You dropped your phone, letting out an ear-piercing scream.

“Fuck! What the fuck?! You cried, hand coming up to clutch at your hair.” The landline rang again, interrupting your freakout. You yanked it off the hook, “What was that?!” you moaned, half-collapsing against the counter. “If you don’t step outside, We’ll have to come get you. If we have to come get you, the old lady’s next.”. You let the phone drop, tears cresting your cheeks as you shuffled your way to the curb.

The wind was blowing harshly and the sky was a sickly gray. What was once regular September weather now felt like an insult; it felt like thunder should be crashing down, a representation of the despair you felt. A sleek black car pulled up to the curb and the door swung open. You stepped up, bending down to see inside.

Across the divide was the man from earlier, still smiling. His choppy bangs were now pulled up, exposing an intricate dark tattoo clashing with his pale skin. “Ah, you’re here. Good. Please, get in.” You did, closing the door. The locks clinked in place, sealing your doom. Tears were still spilling down your face and you shuddered with the force of your sobs, breath hitching. The man looked over, concerned, and placed a hand on your thigh. “Don’t worry. We won’t hurt you.”

[frownyalfred]

hello hi!! i was wondering about if you had any thoughts on a bruce who went to boarding school? i… think this was a bit of canon in a comics run at some point but i can’t be sure sorry

as someone who has certified been to & graduated from boarding school (high school), i feel like it was simultaneously the most social and the most isolating experience i’ve had? because like, these are the people you’ll live with for four years. they know all your secrets but what about all your friends who came before them? who know your /history/?

hm. applying a bruce lens to this scenario, maybe after his parents die he’s sent there for maybe a year or so, but he can’t cope with the sheer loneliness and runs away. alfred only manages to find him by chance wandering the outskirts of gotham city. maybe in the future he goes there for a case (if the school is in gotham like the academy), and there’s people he used to know there but because he’s there as batman he can’t let his personal connection show, etc. etc. it could be a pretty cool idea!

I think it’s very likely what would’ve happened for him, in his socioeconomic class and his parents’ circles. I think there’s also some canon where Oliver also goes to the same boarding school, which I enjoy.

I think it’s an interesting choice if the boarding school isn’t in Gotham, too. It adds to the feelings of isolation and definitely doesn’t help Bruce’s growing complex about his city/Gotham.

But yes. Those fellow students would know Bruce very well, even as a recluse, for those few years. If that includes Oliver, it only adds to the betrayal he must feel when he finally figured out who Batman is under the cowl.

Because he knows Bruce, knew Bruce, and this man isn’t Bruce?

I can imagine Alfred wanting to do the right thing and honor Martha and Thomas’ wishes, but also realizing that Bruce was never going to make close friends there.

[mikashisus]

DREAM CATCHER — 03. discreet

As you scrolled through social media, liking every cat video on your timeline, you failed to notice someone walking towards you.

It was only when they knocked your baseball cap off your head that you looked up, an insult ready on your lips. You picked up your baseball cap and turned to the person, your scowl immediately turning to a smile at the sight of your best friend.

“Xiao!”

You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a tight hug. “I’ve missed you so much. Life is so uninteresting without you and Kuni.”

Your complaining made him huff in amusement, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he snaked his arms around your waist. He sighed contentedly into your shoulder, muttering a small “I missed you too” under his breath.

When he pulled away, he took your hat from your hands and placed it back on your head. You sent him a smile and took his suitcase and backpack from him. Slinging his backpack over your shoulder, you began walking towards the entrance.

Xiao grabbed your phone and placed it in your back pocket for you. He grumbled, “I could’ve carried all of that myself.”

“Nonsense,” you shook your head. “How was your flight?”

The flight from Liyue Harbor to Dornman Port was an exceptionally long one. You knew that all too well since you often traveled back and forth between the two places. Your home in Dornman Port was farther up North in Mondstadt, which was quite the inconvenience when it came to traveling to Liyue Harbor or Sumeru City.

However, you liked the peace and quiet the port. Although it was bustling with people, it was much quieter than the main city on the lake. You’d take it over living in the city any day.

Xiao shrugged, sending a quick text to Zhongli that he arrived in Mondstadt safely. “It was okay. A lot of screaming babies.”

Your face scrunched up in disgust as the two of you exited the airport. “Damn, that sucks. Lucky it wasn’t longer than seven hours, though. You would’ve had to deal with them for longer.”

He groaned at the mere thought. He walked ahead of you, scouring the lanes for the car you’ve had since high school. He found it instantly, making a beeline for it.

You jogged ahead to catch up with him. He was one step ahead of your own thought process, as he opened the trunk for you to haul his things into. You did so effortlessly and climbed into your car.

As he buckled his seatbelt, you handed him your phone. He unlocked it (having known your password) and pulled up one of your rock playlists.

“Well, nothing’s changed with us, huh?” You sent him a smile.

He glanced at you. “What do you mean?”

“In our twenties and you’re still my passenger princess.” You smirked as he scoffed and turned away from you.

“Whatever.”

You shrugged and pulled out of the lanes. “What? I’m just stating the facts. You were always my passenger princess in high school too.”

Even now, you could remember how the two of you would always sneak away from your school’s band and go off on your own. Sure, it worried your band directors to see the two of you had gone missing during the trips, but they eventually got used to it.

You would show Xiao around Mondstadt, and he would show you around Liyue whenever your school’s band made the trip to Liyue Harbor. The two of you would spend nights wandering the streets, talking about anything and everything, and buying snacks or walking around inside shops.

You still had the jade elephant keychain he bought you during your senior year— the one you couldn’t afford because your family wasn’t doing so well financially. With his father’s money, he bought it for you, and you promised you’d always keep it with you. Now, it hung from your car keys.

Your favorite memory was when you were in Liyue Harbor during Lantern Rite. Both you and Xiao snuck off again, this time to the outskirts of the harbor. He showed you his handcrafted lantern he made, a proud glint in his eyes as you praised his handiwork.

When the fireworks went off, signaling the new year, you released the lantern into the sky together, and unexpectedly, Xiao kissed you. None of you dared to bring that up afterwards, but you could still remember how soft his lips were, and how gentle his hold was on your chin. And the way his golden eyes sparkled, holding a certain fondness for you and you only.

You took a quick glance at him, admiring him for a quick second as you stopped at a stoplight. Even though he was turned away from you, trying hard not to let you see his face, you could see a small, fond smile on his lips.

He made a hum of disagreement, but you could tell that those memories of the two of you from high school were as important to him as they were for you.

masterlist | prev | next

author’s note: xiao being quite obvious with his crush was not intended but it’s a detail i like. hes trying his best to be discreet but failing miserably. also we love xiao being a passenger princess 🫶

taglist — ; (open) @kunikuzushis-darling @one-and-only-tay @ukinya @mechanicalbeat1

[flightlessangelwings]

Bold

Paz Vizsla x fem!reader (no use of y/n) Word count-4.5k

Summary- Paz saves your life when the pirates attack Nevarro. And then you find out he likes it when you’re bold...

Warnings- 18+ ONLY minors do not interact, takes places on Nevarro during "The Pirate," protective!Paz, mutual pining, smut, handjob, fingering, breast play, oral (f receiving), cumplay, size kink, competency kink, praise kink, squirting, creampie, multiple orgasms, "good girl" Notes- This one is dedicated to the Paz girlies. This started as more towards the action and protectiveness and then I had the idea to add the smut and I ended up spending more time on that lol! Enjoy! @flightlessangelwings-updates​ is my update blog to also follow and turn on post notifications to stay up to date on when I post!

~

You let out a deep sigh as you scanned the rubble that was once the capital city of Nevarro. You and the others counted yourselves lucky to be alive, but nerves still pulsed through your veins that you had just been through. As you helped the others clean up the mess and start to rebuild your homes, you relived the past day in your head. But it was the liberation and the rescue of your home that stuck with you the most.

It all happened so fast. The Nevarro sky rained with blaster fire as ships poured out of the large pirate vessel that descended on the city. You tried to run, but the pirates grabbed you and a few others and held you hostage, forcing you all to act as their bartenders as they enjoyed their victory over your largely defenseless city.

But just as you felt the feeling of despair threaten to overtake you, a light in the atmosphere brought hope. Ships carrying Mandalorians swept through the city and they easily took out the pirates. The other trapped girls quickly ran for cover, but one of the pirates grabbed you before you could join them.

“You’re coming with me, pretty girl,” he sneered at you. 

You screamed as you tried to break free, but it wasn’t until a blast hit his face that he finally let you go. A gasp escaped your lips as the biggest man you had ever seen decked out completely in blue armor grabbed you by the wrist and told you in an urgent tone, “Stay behind me. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t want to leave his side even for a moment, and you easily complied with his order. Not wanting to be a burden, you grabbed a blaster from the fallen pirate and shot as whoever you could from the safety of your Mandalorian shield. He protected you throughout the blaster fire until the dust settled and the last pirate was taken down. Even when your two groups of people met and your leaders came to an agreement to share the land of Nevarro, you stayed close to him. 

As the conversation came to an end, and yours and his people broke off to go their own ways, you let out a heavy sigh of relief, “Thank you,” your voice was just a whisper but you were sure he heard you, “You saved my life back there.” After a beat, you gave him your name.

The large blue Mandalorian turned to you slowly and gave you a nod, “You held your own back there well,” his smooth, low voice sent a shiver up your spine as he took your hand. He raised your arm up to the bottom edge of his helmet as he tapped the back of your hand to it. “Paz,” he gave you his name shortly before he let go of your hand and went to join his people.

You stood dumbfounded for several moments just cradling your hand as if you felt his lips against your skin. It wasn’t until your friends called your name and ran up to you, engulfing you in warm embraces that you let go of your breath and were brought back to the present. 

*

The citizens of Nevarro all decided to camp out together that first night and get to work rebuilding the city the next day. You spent the morning helping some others clean out the school before you decided to walk to the further edge of the city and see how bad the damage was to your home. Living closer to the outskirts, you hoped that the little neighborhood where your house sat in a row of other dwellings wasn’t hit too badly.

“Thank the Maker,” you let out a sigh of relief when you turned the corner and saw all the buildings still sood mostly intact. But you scrunched your brows when you saw that a large piece of rubble completely blocked your front door. “Ok…” you breathed as you stretched and tried to work yourself up and muster the energy to move it.

But as hard as you pushed and as much as you strained, the piece of rubble just would not budge. 

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as you tried again, lunging at the stubborn rock. Maybe you thought that you could catch it by surprise and it would move.

Then suddenly it did move.

You yelped as the heavy boulder slowly slid away from you and you almost tripped over yourself when it lifted off the ground and moved to the side. Finding your footing, you looked up from the ground and saw the familiar blue Mandalorian grunting as he used every ounce of his strength to move the boulder out of your way.

“Paz!” you breathed in relief as you watched him set the rubble down out of the way of your front door. Even if you had wanted to, you couldn’t hide the way your face lit up when you saw him again.

“A valiant effort,” Paz tilted his head to the side as he looked you up and down, “But I think that was too big for you to move on your own.”

You bit your lip as you fiddled with your fingers, “Well good thing I have a Mandalorian that seems to find me at just the right time.” 

A short huff escaped his lips and you wondered if he hid a smirk underneath that helmet. You were sure you imagined it, but you thought you saw his gaze subtly drift down along your figure, as if he studied every inch of you, every curve of your body. It made your skin tingle and heat up as you snuck a glance at his imposing figure whenever you could. You only hoped he didn’t catch your wandering eyes. 

If he noticed, Paz didn’t mention it and he redirected your thoughts when he spoke again, “Your door is damaged,” he seemed to force himself to concentrate on anything but you as he turned his attention to your front door. He ran his gloved hand up and down the doorframe and you couldn’t help but wonder what his hand would feel like if he touched you like that. Again, though, his voice brought you back to reality, “I can fix it for you,” Paz said plainly before he pulled out a tool from his pack and made quick work of your front door.

The world felt like it spun around you as you watched the big, strong Mandalorian fix the front of your house like it was nothing. Just like he lifted that boulder like it was nothing. Thankfully, the damage wasn’t too bad, but you found that you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. The way he was able to move the boulder that blocked your way, the way he easily shot down the pirates and kept you safe the day before, the way he competently fixed your door… you were a goner before you even realized it.

“Done,” Paz huffed as he straightened his posture and pushed your door open.

Your eyes went wide as your gaze trailed from his armored silhouette to the inside of your home. Paz stood to the side as you carefully stepped inside, your breath trapped in your chest as you anticipated the worst. But, you let out a deep sigh of relief when the inside was completely intact. Only some things scattered the floor that had fallen from the tables and shelves when the city was attacked, but otherwise, the damage was minimal. 

“You got lucky here,” Paz moved to stand at your side, closing the door behind him, “Your home seems to have escaped the damage,” he turned to you as your gaze stayed forward. His hand clenched and unclenched as he longed to reach out to you like he did the way before. Even from the moment he first saw you, Paz felt an instant pull towards you. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before, and when he saw the way you fought back against the clutches of that pirate, he felt compelled to protect you. 

Unaware of Paz’s inner turmoil, you let out another deep sigh as you met his vizor. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt his gaze on you, even if you couldn’t see it. You had no idea where it came from, but your next words caught even you off guard, “It’s not the first time I got lucky… Maybe it won’t be the last…” your tone dropped as you made your intentions obvious to him.

As he stared at you, you instantly regretted your words and you dropped your gaze and turned away from him, “I’m sorry,” you blurted out, “That was bold… I don’t want to cross a line…”

But your rambles of embarrassment were cut off when a gloved hand gently cupped your chin and guided you to look back at him, “No,” Paz’s voice was soft as his tone matched your low one, “I like boldness,” he growled as his grip on your chin tightened slightly.

The tension in the room was palpable as you both stared at each other. Nerves made your skin tingle and your breath tremble, yet the way Paz held your chin brought comfort to you. Finding your bravery, you broke the silence, “The bedroom is back this way.”

“Lead the way,” Paz replied in a low tone as his thumb brushed across your face.

You stepped backwards, knowing your home by heart, so you didn’t have to look away from Paz as you slid your hand in his. He immediately wrapped his fingers around yours as he caressed your side with his free hand. Paz’s grip landed on your hip and he used the leverage to yank you up against his armored chest.

A gasp escaped your lips as you found yourself flushed against his broad body, and your hand landed on the cool plate of his armor. You felt weightless as you took tiny steps back into your bedroom while Paz hands his hands up and down your body. After repeating the motion a few times, he grabbed your shirt and held still, the fabric balled in his fist as his gaze bore into you through the vizor.

“Do it,” you breathed, knowing exactly what he asked without the words needed, “I want this.”

Paz let out a low growl as he made quick work of your clothes. With every step towards your bed he exposed another sliver of your skin until you were completely bare by the time your legs hit the bed. He grunted as he pushed you backwards so that you landed on your mattress, and he was mesmerized by the way your breasts bounced when you did. 

“Beautiful…” Paz groaned as he looked you up and down, this time less subtly.

You laid out on your back completely exposed to him. And Paz couldn’t help but notice the glisten between your parted legs as you anticipated his next move. His gaze ran up your body as he leaned forward, memorizing every dip and curve of your figure until he got you your face and noticed the glazed over expression in your eyes and the way your lips were parted.

Feeling nervous under Paz’s strong gaze, you suddenly became very aware that you were naked and he remained fully covered. Swallowing hard, you whispered, “Can I see your hands?” Your eyes fluttered up to meet his vizor as he hovered over you.

Paz said nothing, and only tilted his helmet to the side slightly.

Somehow, you knew exactly what the gesture meant and you rephrased in a stronger voice, “I want to see your hands.” 

“Good girl,” Paz groaned. 

He stayed hovering over you even as he lifted himself up to slowly remove his gloves. Paz took pleasure in the way your breath trembled and your body shook in anticipation. He teased you as he slowly took one glove off, one finger at a time. And it didn’t go unnoticed when you gasped at the first glimpse of skin or the way you licked your lips when you noticed how thick his fingers were.

But then your next words took you both by surprise, “And your cock.”

Paz stilled, his hands bare for you as he hovered over you between your parted legs. But, he did like the boldness in your request… command… and Paz felt himself stiffen in his pants. With a growl, he complied, and his bare hands quickly freed his cock for you.

“Fuck…” you breathed when you saw how big he was. 

Moving before you could stop yourself, you reached out for him and wrapped your hand around his cock. Paz leaned forward more, planting his hands on either side of you as you gave his length a soft squeeze. You glanced up for a moment, and when you felt his energy flow through your body, your eyes drifted back down between your bodies as you pumped his cock.

Paz growled your name as he tilted his head forward so that his helmet rested against your forehead. He felt cool against your heated skin, and when he rocked his hips in time with your hand, you worked him faster, squeezing all the spots that made him groan more. Heat rose in the room as you pumped him as he covered your body with his own, and you let out a soft moan when Paz growled your name.

“If you don’t stop now…” Paz grunted, “I’m going to cum all over you…”

You looked up from where his cock captivated your attention to meet Paz’s vizor. A challenge glistened in your eyes as you gave him a slight smirk and pumped him faster in response. A low curse hissed out of Paz’s lips as he thrust his hips into your hand more. Grunts and whimpers filled the room as Paz felt his climax hit him before he could give you any warning. A gasp escaped your throat as he came hard, splashing his seed all over your stomach, but you kept going until Paz grabbed your wrist and yanked you off of him.

Heavy breaths filled the space between your bodies as you and Paz stared at each other for several moments. Your wrist stayed in his grip as you were content to be held by him. And for a moment, you swore you saw a glimpse of his eyes behind the darkness of the vizor…

But that moment quickly vanished when Paz let go of your wrists to grab onto your breasts firmly. You dropped your head onto the mattress as you let out a loud scream as he squeezed and fondled your breasts. His rough fingers pinched your nipples as he kneaded the soft flesh and savored every little sound of pleasure you made under his touch. 

“You look so beautiful with my cum on you,” Paz groaned as he gave your breasts another firm squeeze. 

“Paz…” you panted as your eyes fluttered closed. 

He ran his hands down the sides of your body, careful to leave the evidence of his release on your skin. When he reached your thighs, Paz grabbed your legs and parted them more, and his breath hitched in his throat when he saw how your pussy glistened. 

“So wet for me already, mesh’la,” Paz growled as he scooped just a little bit of his seed and trailed it down the mound of your public bone, “But I need to prepare you for my cock…”

“Please Paz,” you begged as you shifted to make yourself comfortable, “I need you… Don’t make me wait.”

“Shhh,” he cooed as he parted your lower lips, “Patience, mesh’la… I’ve got you.” 

Your heart skipped a beat as he repeated his first words to you, only this time they held even more meaning, “I trust you,” you whispered your reply as you relaxed your body under his expert touch. Vaguely, you wondered what that nickname meant, but just by the way he said it with fondness was enough to make your heart flutter. 

But any thought you might have had vanished from your mind as Paz coated his finger with his seed and pushed into your pussy. You clutched at the sheets as his thick digit entered you inch by delicious inch. Paz groaned as he watched his cum-coated finger disappear inside you and your warmth engulfed him. His cock already started to stiffen again as he slowly reeled back and thrust his finger fully into you again.

“Paz!” you cried out as he repeated the motion again and again, “Another finger… Please…”

He growled your name as he complied with your request… demand. You felt so good around his fingers and he felt your wet tightness grip him hard as he crooked his fingers up and hit your sweet spot with precision. You bucked your hips and screamed loudly as you felt like you would fly off of the bed.

“Oh fuck…” you cried out as Paz hit your sweet spot over and over again ad he thrust his fingers harder and faster.

“Show me how beautiful you are when you cum,” Paz growled as he watched you fall apart with intense satisfaction. His cock screamed at him, but he ignored it in favor of pleasuring you.

It didn’t take long for Paz to get what he wanted and you came with a loud scream. Your legs trembled on either side of him as you rode out your climax on his fingers as Paz savored the way your mouth dropped open to allow the beautiful sounds to flow freely. When you were spent, you flopped down limp on the bed and Paz stayed still inside you for a few moments as he watched your breasts rise and fall.

Carefully, paz pulled his fingers out, and he caressed your body with his free hand when you let out a soft whimper. You kept your eyes closed as you spread yourself for him in a wordless invitation… but Paz had other plans for you.

“Turn over, mesh’la,” he ordered softly.

You blinked your eyes open and were met with his armored figure, just his hands and cock out for you. You gasped as you felt a fresh wave of need crash through you at the way he looked at you with fondness, even through the helmet. You flashed him a grin as you eagerly complied.

Feeling flirtatious, you wiggled your ass a little as you positioned yourself on your hands and knees. Any embarrassment was gone after you both came for each other once, and all that was felt in between the two of you was need and desire.

“Put your face down,” Paz said, “Keep your eyes covered.”

That caught you off guard and the nerves rushed back. But, you did as you were told with a meek, “Yes.” You leaned forward, burying your face in the sheets until your world went black. And your skin warmed as the motion made you lift your ass in the air, putting yourself on full display for the Mandalorian.

To test you, Paz slapped your pussy without warning. You screamed into the mattress, but your face stayed buried. You felt dizzy from the impact but it only turned you on more.

“Good girl,” he growled as he dipped down behind you, “Stay just like that no matter what.”

Before you could answer, you felt the cold touch of Paz’s helmet against your ass. Goosebumps erupted on your skin as you heard the hiss of his helmet and you realized what he had planned. You let out a loud moan as you felt the tip of Paz’s tongue against your folds as he licked your pussy from behind. 

Your muffled moans filled the room as you clutched tightly to the sheets, lost in the pleasure that was Paz’s tongue. Even with your face buried, you saw stars every time he hit your clit, and you were sure you weren't going to last long.

“Fuck… Paz… You’re gonna make me cum,” you whimpered before you fell apart again.

He slurped loudly as he gripped your thighs tightly, licking and sucking at your cunt while you came on his face. Paz savored the taste of you, and he smirked against you as he felt you gush against his face. And while he kept his helmet tilted off just enough to expose his lips, Paz was proud of you for keeping yourself down just like he told you to.

Breaking away with a pop, Paz lowered his helmet back down and licked his lips as he did so, “I think you’re ready for my cock now, mesh’la,” his voice was low as he stroked himself, “You can lift your head now.”

You didn’t have the energy to pick yourself up completely, but you lifted your face and took in a deep breath.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you breathed as you trembled in anticipation. 

But as wet as you were, the stretch of Paz’s cock still took your breath away and you gasped loudly as the tip pushed into you. Slowly, Paz entered your pussy with a groan of his own. Fuck you felt even better around him than he thought. But, he didn’t want to hurt you by letting himself go.

“Are you alright?” Paz asked as he caressed your back and your ass.

“Yes,” you replied immediately, “Fuck… Please, don’t stop. Feels so good.”

Paz growled as he kept going, “You look even more beautiful on my cock than I thought,” he groaned as he pushed the rest of the way inside you, “And you feel even better too.”

You whimpered as the feeling of Paz’s cock was overwhelming in the best way. You had never felt fuller, never been more stretched out, and you had never felt a pleasure like this ever in your life. Maker, you were already addicted to him and he had just entered you. 

He grabbed onto your hips as he rolled back and thrust forward gently. Slowly at first, Paz rocked back and forth, but the more you moaned and cried out in pleasure, the faster he went. Skin slapped against skin as he reached forward and grabbed your arms, lifting your chest off the bed as he thrust into you over and over again.

Moans and screams filled the room as your mouth hung open while Paz fucked you. Your eyes rolled back as you surrendered yourself and gave every inch of yourself to him. Not only did his cock stretch you out more than ever before, but the way Paz held you tight made you feel safe and protected as he pounded into you.

Paz groaned your name as he craved even more of you. He grabbed you and yanked you back so that your bare back was pressed flush against his armored chest. Paz wrapped his arm around you and grabbed your breast with one hand and pinned you against his body and rubbed at your clit with the other.

“Oh! Fuck!” you screamed, “Paz!” you reached up behind you and grabbed onto him wherever you could. Only your knees stayed on the bed as you arched your back and let Paz hold you tightly as he fucked into you with an ever faster pace.

“Cum, mesh’la,” he groaned in your ear, “Cum on my cock.” Paz’s own orgasm wasn’t far behind, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he would last like this. Holding you in his arms while he thrust into you was just as overwhelming for him as it was for you. 

“Cum in me,” you whispered before your climax hit you.

That was all it took for both of you to completely fall apart. You screamed loudly as your inner muscles squeezed Paz’s cock. His grip on you tightened as he filled you to the point where you thought you would burst, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was Paz and the ecstasy he brought you. Your entire body shook as he held you close and you both rode out your intense highs on each other.

You felt yourself gush as your release dripped down your inner thigh. Paz noticed too, as he felt you soak his cock while he spilled himself inside of you until that too dripped out of you. With one last grunt and thrust, Paz sheathed himself completely inside you as he tipped you both forward until you both collapsed down onto the bed. 

Neither of you moved for a long time. Heavy breaths filled the room as you laid in Paz’s arms, his cock still buried deep inside you. Tears filled your eyes from the waves of emotions that crashed into you suddenly. As much as you tried to keep them hidden, Paz heard a soft sob and immediately pushed himself up.

“Are you alright, cyare?” Paz hissed as he pulled out of you, but his focus was quickly redirected to your needs.

You whimpered at the loss of him inside you, “I’m fine, Paz,” your voice was soft as he wiped away the tears from the corners of your eyes, “More than fine actually,” you gave him a bright smile as you leaned into his touch. Closing your eyes, you kissed the palm of his hand and you heard his breath hitch. 

Paz let out a heavy sigh as he looked at you. He felt an even bigger need to keep you protected as you looked so vulnerable in his arms. A glow surrounded you as you let out a contented sigh of your own. It was a tender moment neither of you would ever forget. 

But, Paz knew he couldn’t stay like this forever, “I should go,” he said abruptly.

“Wait,” you grabbed his wrist before he could get up, “Stay?” you pleaded with your eyes before you repeated in a stronger voice, “I want you to stay.” 

He let out another sigh, “Alright.” Paz wouldn’t admit how little it took to convince him to stay. But he also didn’t want to deny how much he already craved the feeling of you securely in his arms. The rest of the world could wait as Paz settled back down and held you tight. He wondered what would happen moving forward. How could he keep you by his side while still remaining loyal to his tribe? Would Ragnar like you? Would you like him? 

But for now, those questions would wait, and all Paz wanted to do was hold you close.

SImilar questions ran through your mind, and you wondered if he would want to stay with you, if he would allow you to stay with him. Somehow, you had a feeling you could make it work from how strong your feelings were already. You could figure it out somehow. And you had never been happier that you were bold as you sighed contently in Paz’s strong arms. 

[mynameisvarian]

The Boxleitners AU (WordGirl)

Basically a Becky Boxleitner AU but I give Steven himself more character development and plot relevance before ultimately being fused to a mouse.

Before Squeaky (Season 1-2-3)

●•• Steven Boxleitner's fusion with Squeaky occurs much later than in the show in order to give him a much more in-depth character development to show his relationship with his daughter and his positive impacts on the people of fair city as a whole before his descent and transformation into Dr. Two Brains.

●•• With her identity as a superhero with an advanced vocabulary that's only know by her companion and sidekick, Captain Huggy Face. Becky Boxleitner is unable to talk much about her problems and difficulties with her own father because of the fear that all her hero-ing would get him hurt one day if he did find out.

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└ • Though during somewhere between Season 3 and before it's finale, Steven does manage to figure out her identity and tries to be helpful by providing help whenever she needs it.

●•• The Boxleitners live in a fairly nice neighborhood that's located near the outskirts of the city that is also coincidentally the same neighborhood that a decent amount of WordGirl's enemies inhabit, Their house is right next to the Butcher and Granny May's houses with Maria the Energy Monster secretly living in one of the powerlines across the street.

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└ • Steven has become friends with many of his definitely not villains in their civilian identities neighbors, Examples are:

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└ ✧ The Butcher (Jerald T. Butcher) - Jerald is surprisingly great friends with Steven as they'd met when Jerald had decided cook some bbq but unfortunately broke his own barbecue grill on accident though he ultimately met up with Steven when he'd heard that the man was inventing a machine that cooked meat much faster, This little interaction had then led to become the thing many of the neighbors look forward to every week, The Weekly Neighborhood Barbeque.

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└ ✧ Granny May ( Granny May) - May has always treated the Boxleitners as close family ever since the day that they'd started visiting her when during one of the neighborly bbq she'd let slip that she felt alot more lonely since her family and grandkids were off on vacation with even her own mom being busy aswell and that she wished more people visited her more often, the next day Steven brought his daughter and their pet monkey over and chatted which eventually turned into them baking cookies and listening to Granny May's childhood stories every Friday after Becky gets home from school. (Colonel Mustard, Granny May's cat has also taken a liking to them)

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└ ✧ Mr. Big (Shelly Smalls) - With Wordgirl being able to foil his plans quickly he went under a fake name (Dr. Small) to seek the help of Steven Boxleitner to make a mind control bunny button which he ultimately used on Steven after the man found out about his true identity. Although even after being mind-controlled Steven still forgives Mr. Big and still do business with eachother like the time Shelly requested for a perfume that naturally causes bunnies to follow him.

➜ This leads to an episode that centers around Mr. Big using the bunnies against Wordgirl with steven on the other hand wasn't told what the perfume was for.

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└ ✧ Energy Monster (Maria the Energy Monster) - Though their interaction was short, Maria had managed to convince Steven that teenage girls turn into large Electrical Monsters when they hit puberty after he'd given her a device that turned certain Electrical charges into sounds that then let her communicate.

➜ In an altered version of "Dinner or Consequences" Maria doesn't have the device removed and is able to communicate throughout the show permanently.

★ Becky is aware of their true identities but ultimately keeps quiet so her dad's new found friendship with them wouldn't end.

●•• Steven's assigned government owned lab and Becky's school that's just a few blocks away is located near the epicenter of the city so he normally just drops her off there when he's going to do some experimentation in the laboratory and if ever Becky gets out of school early she'll just walk to her dad's workplace to see and make sure that Steven hasn't accidentally blown himself up because of being too distracted and wait for him to finish so he can drive both of them back home. (On occasions, she'll just turn into wordgirl and fly back to their house if her dad was just at home.)

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└ • Becky had once been in the presence of a dozen miscoloured mice on one faithful afternoon when she'd decided to visit Steven, Each cage had been surprisingly lavish and contained three mice each plus everything their little mouse sized hearts desired, When asking about the indoor mouse zoo she was told that they were rescued from an illegal smuggling case in the far north of the city with the smuggler subjecting the mice to harsh living conditions to which made Becky automatically angry at herself for being unable to help these poor creatures as WordGirl.

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└ • Upon noticing his daughters clear reaction and the regret plastered all over her face, Steven placed his hand on Becky's shoulder and added that the mice were only temporarily in his care so they could be relocated to a place where all their needs will be met and that earlier today a nice elderly couple had generously donated over a pound of fruits and cheese for the poor mice which seemed to make his daughter's mood lift. He failed to mention how the perpetrator hadn't been caught yet and is probably roaming the city doing illegal smuggler things.

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└ • At one point, Steven had introduced Becky to a little lab mouse that he'd affectionately named "Squeaky" in the count that the little mouse was the most noisiest and the most likely to bite her fingers if given the chance. He'd mentioned aswell that squeaky was one of the mice that was rescued from the smuggler incident so the hostility to humans was understandable.

➜ On a side note, Her dad had shown her how squeaky could break down walls and walls of drywall to get to a singular piece of cheese, It's unsure if Squeaky was experimented on by the Smuggler or if the small mouse was always like this.

●•• Steven still makes the mind-reading device but for different reasons such as to read squeaky's mind to figure out the smuggler's identity and if more animals were being illegally brought to fair city and maybe be able to help the authorities catch the criminal but with a lot of things happening here and there the mind-reading device didn't get to the testing phase until season 3.

----

The timeline is pretty messed up but basically any episode that's set in Season 1-3 that contains Dr. two brains as a main character is instead placed into Season 4 or tweaked so that it's Steven instead, The invasion of the bunny lovers is also put into Season 2 rather than 6.

This post is prone to being edited due to me always getting ideas on how to improve an AU so don't expect this to stay the same :D

(If you saw the sudden style change between images, Image 1 was drawn directly on FLIPACLIP while Image 2-3 was sketched on paper then placed into FLIPACLIP)

[daichiduskdrop]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 35

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: anxiety and panic attack, light implications of attempted rape

Words: 3457

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm sorry I didn't update earlier, I've been very busy. Currently I'm away with my school so I won't be able to post for a while!

Please enjoy this soft chapter :)

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashionstyle-blog @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie @everyonehatesshani @iamkookiesforyou @dragons-flare @fangirl125reader @roseidol @frieschan @popcatx0 @liz67900 @exfolitae @plexcaffeinate @strawblueberrys

Previous:

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„What a great choice, little pup. Of course we can go see; come on, let's go, sweet baby.�� The packalpha smiled widely at you, taking your hand in his before he started to lead your little group towards the said store.

Yuki and Moonsik followed happily, both okay with going to the music store. While neither of them played any instruments, they enjoyed listening to music, so they wouldn't mind.

Plus, sometimes seeing all of the gadgets and things lined up cleanly just satisfied them, even when they weren't there to buy them.

And so, Namjoon led you close, watchful so you wouldn't bump into any bypassers as you were caught too deeply into explaining the new art technique you only just learned.

The packalpha knew a fair bit about art, but by no means did he know enough, considering how much new information you shared with him during the few small seconds.

Litography for sure sounded complicated, but you looked ecstatic about it, even though you repeated many times that you really didn't know what you were doing most of the time.

Maybe he could start a course with you? Or maybe some of the other packmates would go. Or maybe, if you don't want them to be there with you, you would prefer to do so alone?

Seoul was a large city; for sure, there must be a printing unit of some sort, an atelier, or anything like that.

Namjoon really wanted you to persue your hobbies and dreams, and he knew you held art very close to your heart.

The packalpha wasn't sure what type of school you would want to continue to study at, but he realised well that the pack could for sure help.

He thought a little about what you might be able to do to help them, and the packalpha already had quite a few good ideas.

But nonetheless, Namjoon was more than happy to have you around, and you could choose whichever path you found interesting, and he and the pack members would support you.

The walk across the mall wasn't lengthy, and so soon enough, you were aware of the music store you desired to see when it was closed.

It was open this time, and the lights that were turned on made the display of the instruments and gadgets much clearer and simpler to see.

To your eyes, it looked quite magical. You knew your fair bit about art—of course you would; you studied it after all—and when you were young and lived in Japan, sometimes you would go see theatres too.

Your budget didn't allow you to see the interesting plays anymore, and it wouldn't be too safe for you to go on your own either.

Since most of the theatres would play during the evening, starting at the earliest of 18 o'clock, even when it would be the summer and the sun would come down later, by the time the play would end, it would be dark.

Seoul wasn't a small city by any means, but your apartment was on the outskirts, and you didn't live in the nicest part of it.

You were an omega. Only now were you being courted, and before that, you had no one to make sure you would get safely home.

The last time you went to see the play R.U.R., which didn't wow you but didn't hurt to see either, you left the theatre by the evening, and the stars would twinkle and shine.

The bus you had to wait for took quite some time to arrive, but whenever a bit off-looking alpha or beta would come sit by you on the waiting bench at the stop, you would make sure to get up and create a distance so no contact would be created.

You were on your phone, busying yourself on Instagram as there was free WiFi available, and so when your bus arrived a good half an hour later, you entered.

All went well in the beginning, but as the drive continued, less and less people stayed, and it came to only you and an alpha.

The man didn't seem too suspicious at first, but when he stood up, to you seeming to go to leave the vehicle, he didn't step out but instead stepped closer to you.

You were more than lucky that night, to be certain. Just the reminder of the sickling smell of the rut had your stomach turning, and when you noticed the look in his eyes, you realised what was meant to go down.

Before the alpha could do anything, you left the bus in a hurry, as your stop just came, and luckily for you, the dreaded man didn't follow you.

Since then, you wouldn't go outside comfortably and would always be wary of being on your own during the night.

Just the terrifying memory made small tears spring up in your eyes. What would happen if that man took you to mate that night? What if he marked you too?

Surely, none of the pack members courting you now would be interested in you then.

You felt your fingers shake a little, and you could tell you were about to cry. You couldn't go crying in the mall like this, and if Yuki and Moonsik were with you too, what would they think of you now?

Your breaths started to cut shorter and shorter, and as your eyes squeezed shut, a slight ringing clouded your mind.

Then, you couldn't tell well what was going on—too much in a haze to realise. You could hear your heartbeat, or was it yours?

It sounded close to your ear, and you felt your lungs hurt from how unwell you were breathing, your intakes shorter and shorter every moment passing.

„...okay, pup,'s okay...."

You recognised the packalpha's voice well, but it sounded distant and far; your ears were somehow weak, and you were tired.

The soft smell around you brought you a slight comfort and warmth, but even then, your shoulders shook and tears would come down your face.

Whenever your sobs would get louder, the warmth brought to you felt more close, as the scent felt more strong and noticeable.

Somewhere deep in the back of your mind, you knew you had stressed yourself out so much that you had another omega drop, but then again, you couldn't think too clearly.

„...don't worry, sweetheart, just breathe for alpha baby;.."

Namjoon's voice caressed you in the background as you sobbed and cried softly. You were just too scared and anxious at this point, too worried out of your mind, to really pay attention to what was going on around you.

It took you quite some time to calm down to a point where you would realise what was going on around you. Sobs wrecked your body, and your shoulders would shake as you gasped for air.

„...there you go, pup, just like that. Breathe for Alpha little 'mega..."

Namjoon didn't know what exactly went down to cause you to suddenly drop on him, but he knew it wasn't good.

It was just like that—your scent would change, and he would notice something was wrong. And before the packalpha could do anything to help prevent it, your soft sniffles and cries already came.

And what was he to do? He knew he couldn't do much as the rest of the packmembers weren't there to help, and surely all of their scents would do you good.

Namjoon didn't even have that lamb plushie they bought for you, and gosh, he was cursing himself for not getting at least a keychain to carry around himself in case of need—like now.

They all will, for sure, purchase one right away after they hear about your soft state. None of them will care about how bulky or weird their keys might look; that would not matter.

If they would get a keychain that would carry all of their scents, for sure, that would help when you might drop on them so suddenly.

Namjoon didn't have that at the moment, and so he was stuck with what was possible to help relieve your anxious state—his own scent.

And so he did what he thought would be best, releasing all of the protective and calming pheromones he had as an alpha.

The moment the packalpha realised you entered an omega drop, from standing before you crouched while caressing your cheeks with questions pouring out about your dazed state, he was quick to get into action.

When your tears appeared and your scent fully changed, he took you into his arms, not caring one bit about anyone looking—you were his top priority.

And so Namjoon cradled you to his chest, safely tucking away your face into his scent gland as he would try to calm you down.

When your sobs and cries turned into gasps for air, he could truly feel worry cloud his mind, and he could tell his brain was dashing up with only a few simple words screamed at him.

Mate; Danger; Breathe;

And he held you even closer, going from trying to gently talk you out of your closed state to feeling himself start to go feral in worry.

Was it one of the bypassers that made you freak out so much? Was it the shop owner? Oh, he was going to have a word with him if that was the case for sure.

But before the packalpha could do anything, Moonsik, who still held Yuki's hand closely as they both looked worriedly over the two of you, stepped closer.

„You need to go somewhere where it's calm and quiet, Namjoon-ah.” The beta's voice held a sense of urgency in it.

His own pack's omega wouldn't drop too often, but when he would, it was always a great worry for both Moonsik and Juwon.

He recognised the short and quick breaths, along with how off your scent seemed, and knew that you really weren't doing well at the moment.

And so, he was quick to step in as soon as he noted Namjoon's growing distress; it was understandable that he was worried. You were their courted omega after all, and it was every packmember's worst nightmare to see their littlest ones cry of fear.

Moonsik calmly came over, a harsh but not really meant growl leaving the packalpha as he took a step back. The beta understood—the younger wasn't thinking too clearly and wouldn't take time to realise who was safe and who wasn't.

At this point, the only ones allowed to come closer to the distressed omega were the packmates, and even then, the packalpha would strictly watch.

And so, the beta took the lead and started to walk to one of the stores where it surely would be quiet and calm—the small library, which had a café at its entrance.

Namjoon rushed to follow, pecking your cheeks and temples repeatedly as he would comb his fingers gently through your hair.

The only thing he wished for was that you would be okay.

None of the drops he experienced with you went to such an extent, and you never had such issues with breathing. What if something was seriously wrong?

Hastily, the small group of yours entered the café. Moonsik brought Yuki over to order, as he didn't want it to seem like you all just came over to sit and not have anything.

The other omega was scared and worried for you, asking the beta numerous times if you were okay and saying, „Y/N doesn't look fine, hyungie!” Nearly bursting into tears himself.

Though the beta was professional in distracting the younger and calming him down, he by no means needed Yuki to drop too; that would be truly bad timing.

And so, Moonsik asked the omega about which drink he thought you would like the best, or what pastry, but the conversation always stopped, as the omega would go turning to look at you sitting in a secluded booth, curled up closely to Namjoon.

Yuki couldn't see much, as the packalpha had tucked you closely against himself and kept you in the corner, his back partly turned to the entrance.

„You're okay, my baby; breathe now; breathe for Alpha." He would whisper, a little frown on his face as he held you to his chest, making sure your ear was pressed right up against his heart where you could hear it the best.

The alpha caressed your hair softly, pecking your forehead as his chin would rub up against the top of your head.

His scent was noticeable all around the booth, and while he might feel a bit emberassed normally, considering that it's not really well with the etiquette to have one's scent take up the whole room, he really didn't care at the moment.

Luckily, the people working and in the café were understanding and didn't freak out or start a scene over it, and everything truly was calm.

Apart from the soft, calm music playing in the background, the shop was quiet and calm, and he only then realised that it was definitely omega-centred too.

And soon after, your teary eyes, Namjoon so restlessly viped over and over, fluttered open. The moment you realised it was the packalpha who was gently looking over you, holding you close as he would caress you, soft shushes leaving him in hopes of you breathing better, a soft sob left you again.

Namjoon looked over immediately, his eyes widening, before he held you even closer, tucking your head right into the very crook of his neck.

„Oh baby...” He whispered gently, pecking your temples repeatedly as he rubbed your back and petted your hair.

You gripped onto the alpha's t-shirt tightly, the man pulling you up and closer to his chest in answer.

Your cheek rested against Namjoon's collarbone as the still slightly agitated alpha held you very close, trying his best to settle you.

Just then, Moonsik and Yuki came over with the order they thought both of you would like the best: an americano for Namjoon and a sweet lemonade with a little cheesecake for you.

Just as Yuki went to whine out, noticing that you wouldn't turn to look at them, the packalpaha being the only one to have acknowledged them, the beta was quick with his thinking.

„Hyungie-”

„Sh, baby, sh, come here." He whispered gently as he pulled the younger omega over to himself, letting him sit on his lap too.

The beta knew well that you needed some space and time to truly relax and calm down, and staying with the packalpha for the time being was for sure the safest bet.

And so, Moonsik fed his omega small bites of the brownie cake and had him drink his own lemonade. Yuki hoped you would like yours just like he always liked his.

„Should I call someone, Namjoon-ah?” Moonsik asked after a little while, worried eyes set on you. While you weren't sobbing and gasping for air uncontrollably anymore, you were still softly sniffing, no matter what the packalpha would say.

Namjoon looked up from pecking your forehead, frowning a little in thought. The packmembers would for sure freak out if they knew, but it was necessary, he thought.

And so, as the alpha pulled you even closer, your nose right against his scent gland, he stayed for a little while in thought.

„If you would be so kind, Moonsik-hyung, that would be very helpful.” He whispered softly, not wanting to startle you, as he gently patted your hair.

The beta nodded and ushered Yuki out of his lap, taking the younger's hand before he went over to the more secluded area—he didn't want you or anyone else to hear to call.

You didn't need to drop on them the second time in a row today.

Precautions were a must in such situations, and your fragile state for sure required one, so they needed to be careful now.

Moonsik quickly switched on his contacts, searching through them until he found the first packmate he had saved on his phone, Yoongi.

And so, as Yuki looked over the books on display, opening and closing them after he realised they were in the horror section, the ringing noise sounded in the beta's ear.

It took a while for the alpha to pick up, but he did soon after, having the beta sigh from the pent-up worry he didn't even realise he kept inside.

„Hello?”

„Hello, Yoongi, it's Moonsik...um, the beta, we met in the mall and-”

„Yes, I remember. What do you need? Is Y/N okay?”

„Y/N dropped a few minutes ago, but Namjoon is trying to settle h-”

„What?! Fuck, where are they?”

„We are in the reading café right now, but maybe you all shouldn't come at the same time..."

„Aish, send me the address, and I'll be there soon; I'll let the rest know.”

„Of course, I will. Thank you.”

Yoongi was the one to switch off the call, but in the background, Moonsik could very well hear his keys jiggle as the alpha quickly got ready to leave.

He wasn't sure where Yoongi was at the moment or if they were all planning to come into the café, but he trusted them and knew that they would do their best to help you.

„Come on, baby, let's go." The beta softly said, gently tugging onto Yuki's hand, the omega following right away, abandoning the book he held before.

They walked back up the stairs and over to the booth to see you still closely held by the packalpha; only now you weren't really sniffling too badly.

Only when they sat down and Moonsik got a better look at you did he realise what happened—you cried yourself to sleep, far too exhausted to keep up with everything.

Namjoon held you close, very much in a protective headspace, wary of anyone and everyone passing by.

The alpha tried to feed you a little bite of the sweet cake or have you at least take the smallest sip possible, but you wouldn't budge, a soft whimper leaving you whenever Namjoon would slightly pull away to give you a little bite.

And so, after a short time, the packalpha has given up on having you eat or drink at the moment, and as you fell asleep, he would hold you just as close as before, if not closer.

He sipped on his coffee the beta and omega, so kindly got him, but it was still quite hot, and he didn't really know how to relax at the moment.

„I called Yoongi; he said he was on his way.” The beta almost whispered, not wanting you to wake up, but seeing your truly tired state, you weren't about to.

The packalpha murmured soft thanks, glad that the beta was kind and considerate in such a jumbled situation.

Just as Namjoon went on to apologise about the hangout taking a terrible turn, the beta was quick to shush him.

„It's okay, Namjoon-ah; it's not yours or Y/N's fault; things like these just happen.” He said it calmly, cutting off a little bite of the brownie to feed Yuki again.

The packalpha could only thank him softly, holding you close as he rubbed your back up and down, keeping you close.

It didn't take a long time before the other packmate came, and it wasn't just Yoongi either.

The moment the youngest recognised your distressed scent in the mall, he took off running, with the older alpha following soon enough, finding the path to you by your scent.

And soon enough, Jungkook stood at the entrance to the café, a mask and heavy jacket on, as he came just from the outside, where Yoongi had driven them.

A soft gasp left him as he finally saw you and Namjoon, your body tightly cuddled up to the older alpha.

„Babybun!” He whispered, taking long strides over before he came to the side of the booth with you.

Jungkook reached over to hold you, Namjoon sighing out gently, before he let you be held by him, only a soft whine leaving you.

„Don't cry, my bunny, it's okay. Alpha is here now. Alpha is here." He would whisper, his chin and cheeks rubbing vigorously over your head as he tried to have his calming scent mask your still unsettled one.

„Oh, kitty...” Yoongi murmured, taking a seat next to the youngest as he too gently petted and brushed through your hair, worried eyes set on your still-half-asleep form.

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[werezmastarbucks]

kevin khatchadourian x female reader timeline of relationship pt 2

first part

warnings: mutual abuse, mentions of school shooting, folie a deux, mentions of stalking, mentions of suicidal thoughts, self-harm, living with trauma, otherwise it's fun! also, Kevin gets way more jail time while I'm captaining this ship

• Kevin got a reduced sentence, because at the time of the shooting he was just three days shy of sixteen

• that shows that he was calculating from the beginning to the end. Moreover, he calculated exactly how much time it would take him to fuck you, and he managed to do it even with some spare time left

• the headlines screamed of despair. You heard that Kevin had killed his father and his little sister - that angelic, innocent, happy girl, before going to school

• there were many times when you asked yourself why he spared you

• but there were now other things to think about. Like, how you were supposed to go on living now. Your own little grudge about that night at the party dissipated and became a minor failure even before the calendar year was out.

• you heard his mum sold the house and moved away on the outskirts of the city. She didn't leave the town though, because at first, Kevin was held at the local facility for minors.

• even you got your share of hatred, to say nothing about his mother.

• the police investigated you mildly, because you were the only survivor in the massacre. They quickly understood you hadn't conspired with Kevin. But people didn't care.

• very soon, you moved away and left the town, and school, behind you.

• five years of therapy, contemplation, heartache, spent with total lack of comprehension of what had transpired. Weeks turned into months as you went into a frenzy, sitting in your room, staring at the walls, trying to find your place in this story.

• you were recalling all of the moments you spent with him, one by one, trying to find the second he snapped. You remembered how you marveled at the beautiful stack of arrows on his wall. Just like Robin Hood's.

• five years of therapy, and self-reflexion. And then, when you were twenty years old, you decided to google his name for the first time in all that time.

• "I don't know why I did it: Kevin Khatchadourian, school shooter with a bow, has been transferred to the adult prison". An article from three years ago. There was a lot of news about him, a lot of pictures of Kevin. Him in his orange costume, hair cut short, and he looked like a disgraced puppy, lost. He was almost nothing without his magical poetic hair.

• one of the videos from court displayed him crying, hiding his face in his hands. You knew these tears were nothing but an act; just a thing everybody expected, or maybe, he wanted to try, and see if the reaction would be to his benefit.

• "The Robin Hood school shooter feels remorse, apologizes to families"

• there were even articles about you, though, in fewer numbers. Still, some theories that you helped Kevin to lock the hall; or that you were his sex toy that he had mercy on. As you went deeper on the internet, there were even accusations of satanism and demonology.

• through the news articles you watched Kevin grow. He turned seventeen, eighteen, then, his hair grew a little. Today, he was being fried in the adult prison. Very soon, there was another school shooting in the same state, so everybody forgot about Kevin Khatchadourian. Plus, he killed so few people; just seven. Weak. Reading this number, every time all these five years, you were taken aback. The whole ordeal felt like it lasted at least an hour. You were seeing everything in slow motion

• the truth was, every time you closed your eyes, for the longest time after, you started seeing Kevin's distorted face. As he grinned with hatred while he was killing your classmates. Little tiger cubs make that face when they learn to roar.

• the latest pictures of him were from the last year; he was a young man of twenty now. His black slick hair brushed back, bruises on his cheekbones. He was a broken man, the light dull in his eyes. Only in the corners of his mouth, there was the old Kevin. The Kevin who laughed at dumb people.

• sooner or later it was inevitable that you started asking yourself questions you couldn't answer. Could I have prevented it? To what degree has he been using me? Why did he spare me? Not like he cared about me? In his eyes, as he looked at me in the yard, there was nothing but resentment.

• you went to see him in prison, thinking about how you looked to someone who hadn't seen you in years. Thinking about your classmates who didn't get to be twenty, nineteen, throwing hats in the air, buying cars, traveling the world.

• all your unrequitted loving, and the dark undulgence, the sense of being the chosen one aside, you thought of those teenagers they used to be and stayed forever, and you wished to be in their place. Because then, you wouldn't have to see Kevin again.

• he looked worn out, but wild in a way, the same pitch-black hair, the same empty stare. Only, it became completely hollow now. His eyes only lit up for a secons when he saw you entering the room.

• you trembled with the realization that this person on front of you, behind the glass, killed seven people you knew, and was now smiling to you. A grown-up cougar. Unaffected, bored, like your coming was a matter-of-fact occurrence.

• his first question was what took you so long. He thought you'd run with lectures and commeuppances ages ago.

• his face sported a split eyebrow, there was a bruise on his forehead. His cheekbone was cut, it seemed, some time ago already, and a pink scar made his perfect fucking face asymmetrical.

• "Did you get beaten up?" you asked. He replied that he had got into a fight. His knuckles were torn to shreds almost, it was unpleasant to look at them; his skin was pale, pulled over his skull. Black circles around the eyes told you he didn't sleep well. He looked ever more like a vampire. The unpleasant kind, not like from the Vampire Diaries.

• he tried to ask you again, why you didn't visit him earlier. His mum was the only one, he said, who ever came, besides the lawyers and the journalists. You scoffed at it and left it without the answer. His eyes were palpating you, examining. His mouth slightly agape. He hasn't seen a woman, you thought, except his mother, for a very long time.

• "I came to ask you one question", you said, and Kevin made the face of annoyance. You went on anyway. "Why did you kill my friends?" He mocked you. Why did he do it. If only you knew how many people came here and sat in your place, and asked the same stupid question. Have you people no imagination nor consciousness to bore him with that? Like he knew. "Because I could", he spat out, "because I wanted to, and I had the means. Because I was annoyed with those people, and they made me irritated. What reasons do you want? I have no idea why I fucking did it; to piss you off? To make you spend five fucking selfish years thinking about why I fucking did it".

• you were not impressed. You didn't expect a fifteen year old narcissist to comprehend his own actions completely.

• "Why did you spare me then?" He shrugged.

• "Because you were nice to me".

• "I punched you in the face".

• he shrugged again like it didn't matter. But it did matter to him back then.

• you're like a robot, you said, you're not supposed to feel anything for a girl who you fucked and threw out like a sock with dry cum. You're a machine and you shouldn't feel anything. It irritated Kevin, this comparison with an inanimate object. Truth was, you were trying to get to his core, to hurt him as bad as you could, to see if he's still alive at all.

• "What's your point?" why didn't you kill me with the rest of them?

• he clutched the phone and rolled his eyes like you were asking the stupidest possible questions. His eyes then drifted down to your chest, where, propped against the glass, was your arm with an old, long scar from the razor.

• "Why, you have a death wish now?" he whispered. A familiar lustful smile was curling his lips. You noticed another scar on his lip, from someone's fist. It must be tough for the pretty boy here at prison. You wondered if the inmates were afraid of him.

• "I could organise it, you know". You realized he almost never, if ever, called you by your name. At all, as if it didn't exist. You wondered if he even knew your name at all.

• "You can't, you're in prison. You're a rat behind the glass. Do you understand, Kevin, that some of the parents of my dead friends, killed themselves years later?"

• he swayed his head with a question, like, what's he have to do with this information?

• "And", you panted now, "all because of one angry boy, and you're... it's the lack of grey matter in your brain poless, Kevin. You're a psychopath. And it's not good, do you understand, you're less than others. You're a little bit less of a human than the rest of us".

• finally, you saw the look of indignation on him. It was rage and disgust, but so quiet that his face just elongated, like a cat's. He was silent, burying you with his stare.

• "We all need one thing, Kevin. All of us. But you can't have it. It is inaccessible to you. That's why you did it".

• Kevin's nostrils were flaring. You put down the phone and stood up to leave. You could hear him scream through the glass. You caught him right by the balls. He was so smart, so, so intelligent unlike all these dumb people. But he couldn't guess what you meant. All these years he'd been searching for the answer, and it was just out of his reach.

• "What? What is it? What is it? What is it, Y/N?"

• he got fifteen years, actually. So, he was out when he was thirty. Still very young, all life to live. He pretended a lot in prison to get the appeal, but he was never granted it. Still, just fifteen years, and then he was out.

• you haven't seen him for ten years.

• the 8th of April was shifting further and further from you. Watching all the school shooting happening in the country was strange. Like almost each of them seemed a next chapter to you, like you were supposed to puzzle them all in, into one coherent picture. You changed jobs, you got in and out of relationships, none of which stuck. You didn't talk with your best friend from school, you drifted apart. You moved out and lived alone, acquiring lonely hobbies and observing people.

• the short visit to prison to see Kevin left a bleak impression of frustration. The memory of losing your virginity to him seemed like a minor failure still. You remembered that night very vividly, and now all of the time you were spending with him, was very clear to you.

• looking back, you saw the manipulation and hot and cold approach he practiced on you. You were something of a practice dummy for him. You could travel back in time and stand there next to yourself on the porch of someone's house and watch yourself kiss him for the first time. You could see him now, from a great angle, how he trapped you in his cobweb. How his eyes were never warm or loving, or even interested, but always calculating, measuring. He always looked at you, you realized, as if he was trying to guess your height for a coffin.

• you've never thought of the life 'after'. In your mind, the fifteen years of prison were eternal. You thought it was the period of time during which you would kill yourself

• you tried to learn everything about ASPD as if it could help you in anyway to deal with what had happened.

• the year when he got released, you only learned about it from the news.

• "Kevin Khatchadourian, the Robin Hood shooter, to be released this May". The article reminisced of the tragedy, and speculated on whether fifteen years have shaken Kevin enough for him to become a good boy. Kevin, it said, had gotten a pretty good rehabilitation back in the minor facility, and very rarely was in trouble at prison. He was an excellent inmate, obedient, friendly and very active at the workshops. He worked at the hospital wing and cared for other inmates. You wondered how many people he made die slowly and painfully, getting high on the power he had over them.

• not immediately did it shake you to reality: Kevin was now about to be free in two months. You tried not to stress about it too much. He didn't give a shit about you. Not then, not now. The therapy groups organized specifically for his victims and the families gathered that spring more often than usual. You weren't accepted there, weren't welcome. They couldn't forgive you for surviving.

• a week after his release you noticed Kevin on the other side of the street as you left for work in the morning. You didn't much care and ignored him. But the sight of him was something to think about. His hair was now long, almost to his shoulders. He was broad-shouldered, tall, and even from across the street you could see his warning eyes.

• you were careful not to get any pets or close friends. It wasn't a problem before, and it wasn't now.

• you cut yourself sometimes, and now started to do it more often - every time you caught yourself thinking, finally he's out.

• you've never gone to a proper doctor, only had therapy for five years, which you quit after visiting him in prison. It was all useless, you thought, because I still want him, and even more now. Everything that's happened to you shaped you into this creature of guilt and need.

• but also rage.

• he once held you by the throat and aimed an arrow at you, and since then, you barely felt fear, like someoned switched it off.

• Kevin came to your place. You tried to shut the door into his face, but he caught it. Close up, you could see his face, thin and pale with the lack of sun.

• he wanted to talk to you. Like adults.

• he said that no, you were never that special, but you actively chose him, again and again, and he was interested to find why. When it appeared so easy to make you have sex with him, he lost interest, but then, at the night of the massacre, for some reason, he just didn't feel like killing you

• you were nobody, to each other, he hasn't even thought about you the first five years, before you came to visit.

• then the thought of you became somewhat of obsession

• he probably idealized you

• you asked where he lived now, and he said that his mum bought a flat in the city and had a room for him. You called him pathetic. At first, he didn't react; he looked broken.

• but there was still the same sense of grandeur in him; you, a feeble creature, thought you could outpower him with only your fury and jealousy, indignation at what he'd done

• but, as Kevin once told you, the world was so unfair to little, pretty girls like you

• he threw you on the floor of your kitchen

• you laughed with relief, saying, "Finally! I thought just fifteen years of prison broke you like a dry twig".

• the look of recognition sparked in his eyes; he kneeled over you as if to say something, and you got his nose with your fist

• one would say it was a happy (in the most infernal way) reunion

• you fought, and laughed, and kicked each other, and kissed with the blood dripping heavily in between your mouths. Only there, in the isolated square of your apartment, you could finally confess to yourself that you didn't give a shit about anything; you haven't for some time.

• the blood was smeared on the floor, on the table, on the cupboards of the kitchen from how much you fought and punched each other

• he left you half dead, and redeemed, it felt

• he said that he'd return soon, and he expected you to be there waiting for him. He didn't want you to go to work or see anybody.

• you laughed at this suggestion and got up to tell him something to his face.

• he was in the bathroom, washing his face. The blood was dripping from his nose onto his t-shirt; he looked like a painting

• and paintings are objects you could own.

• you said "Make me"

• and his smile was almost happy; Kevin could only master so much, that it looked like a deranged grin. The time he spent on the bottom of helplessnes in prison, with nothing but his own self, changed the way he smiled. There was nothing behind his eyes when he smiled now.

• he promised he would go out and fuck whoever he wanted, and then return to you, smelling like other women, and there was nothing you could do about it

• you clenched your fists, but you were now so weak you could barely stand. Your whole body ached.

• he helped you shower and washed your hair, tugging on it, giving you instructions, like an idiot, expecting that he had the same control over you

• after work, you go straight home, you don't text with your parents, don't see your friends, every time you leave your house, you tell him where

• you laughed like crazy at these words.

• Kevin, Kevin. His name was like melody. The pain in your body, bruises, were the first thing you felt in a long time, and, coincidentally, they were connected with the feeling of elation you had now, that his hands were on your neck and your shoulders.

• you could fuck whoever you wanted, Kevin, but it would only happen one time, because if you do, I'll cut your balls off

• and to make him sure that you weren't bluffing, you tried to stab him with manicure scissors from the bathroom mirror.

• his reactions were fast, and he caught your hand inches from his face.

• as he looked down at you, sitting in your bathroom in the pool of pink blood, blood on your forehead, your eyes rolling, he thought about the time he finally started paying attention at school. The girl who loved frogs so much she couldn't look at dead ones. Weak-gutted.

• he now almost admired how deranged you have become. At the moment of epiphany he realized he was the one who made you like this. He was so, so happy. Or what he thought was happiness.

• you pulled on his collar, biting your lip, and put his face very close to yours

• "Don't fuck with me". He saw all the fun coming and he didn't have any desire to disobey.

• Look, what was that damn thing you were talking about when you visited?

• you watched his sculpted face and his sharp bones, the tilt of the head and the vampiric malevolence in his eyes. What was love anymore? Would it have made any difference, morally, if you two had met in normal circumstances, and, more importantly, if he was normal? Would you even have fallen for him if he was a good boy?

• this life was a vortex that became tighter and tighter every year. Next to your memories of school, was this confined bathroom, like you existed on all of the planes at the same time. You laughed at your own naive young self that was looking for excuses for Kevin. uwu, his mum didn't want him. He's too pretty to be that bad. He didn't need excuses, he was always the villain. The good people are never that striking, that vivid and suffocating.

• nevermind, Kevin, it doesn't matter. I didn't know what the fuck I was talking about.

[ceelisiowo]

When all is said and done, you're the one I always come too [Weiss & Nora]

--- Even if it was nothing new trying to endure the awful hot weather from Vacuo after so many days living there, Weiss still had a hard time surviving it, especially when going farther and farther away from the city they now had to call home.

The team usually stayed near the camps and the school, their time consumed between meetings and humanitarian help for the Atlas refugees. Sometimes Grimm would come but she never had to go beyond the outskirts of the city, the Winter Maiden already on her way whenever problems arised. Her relationship with Winter was its own bag of worms she has to eventually solve, but right now there is another person invading her mind.

Weiss can already see the slab, her legs slowly carrying her to the place that held so much pain and sorrow for her friends and family. And leaning in a seated position on the stone is a certain red-haired girl she's been looking for so long.

If someone told her on her first year at Beacon that she'd see Nora without Ren she would have probably laughed at them. And for a while it was their status quo. But Weiss has seen the struggle she was going through when they were fighting in Atlas, her choice of keeping distance with Ren inevitable. She understood -probably more than anyone else- what it was finding one self after being attached to a name for so long. It surprised her though when Ren went to her some time ago, asking for her to go look for Nora at this place. Is not that they weren't talking, her friendship with the girl being stronger than ever after returning from the Ever After, but Weiss was still at a loss as to why she was asked. She didn't hesitate to accept, of course. Nora has lately been looking worse and worse, her smiles short and eyes sad. The stress was becoming too much for all of them, but Nora seemed to be the one being the most affected, and Weiss wanted to be there for her.

As she approaches, a wimper is lost between Nora's lips, and Weiss can't help but stop at the sight. She looks devastated, her emotions clear on her face. Weiss can count with the fingers of only one of her hands the times she's seen Nora so vulnerable, honesty mostly lost by the girl's personality. The moment ends when Nora finally notices the girl at her side, panic rising on her features for a second when she finds out she wasn't alone, but relaxes when her eyes land on Weiss. She only sighs, rubbing her eyes trying to make her tears stop but gives up after a few seconds. She still manages to give her friend a smile, her trembling lips doing their best to keep her composture. Weiss only wishes for a way to make that smile genuine.

"Figures it'd be you." Weiss just looks at her, puzzled at her words. Nora sighs again and returns to watching the horizon, her body a bit more relaxed than before.

They stay like that for a few minutes, the wind the only sound in their space. Weiss tries to come up with something, but no words expel from her mouth, scared of turning Nora away. So she waits for an explanation, a sign, anything that Nora is willing to give her. She does not hestitate to sit at her side when her hand pats the other side of the slab, the girls now seated side by side under the light of the sun. Nora starts to play with her hands, that nervous energy she usually expels when her words can't come out yet, until her voice fills the silence.

"Did Ren tell you to come find me?"

"How did you know?" Weiss words come in a rush, content to know Nora is ready to talk but a little surprised by her guess. Nora laughs for a bit, her emotions being once again true. Weiss can't keep her eyes away from her. Her laughter dies after a while but the tension from before seems to disappear.

"When you guys where… not here" she starts, her voice more confident but still soft. "Whenever everything turned out to be too much I came here to sit and just… I don't know. It was the closer I could be to you."

Nora looks down, suddenly bashful of seeing Weiss at the eyes. Weiss slowly rises her arm, her hand lightly stroking the other girl's shoulder. She wasn't sure what were their boundaries now but Nora did not stop her, so she continued.

"I guess… you are the one I always come to…" Nora ends her words with her eyes finally meeting Weiss', and the girl knows how much this means to her. Unable to hold herself any longer she launches at Nora, the strongest hug she can muster keeping them both in place.

And they stay like that for a while, the hot weather making them leave some time later. Their lives were still not okay, the weight of the world still on their teams' shoulders. But they have each other, and no matter how much pain destiny throws at them, they were sure they could stand it together. ---

This is my gift for @kinaesthetiqueer for the @remnants-of-rwby-exchange !! I'm really sorry for the late post!!! I kind of underestimated how much time I had left ;w; I hope you like it Kina!! I ended up mashing the two prompts you send me with some hurt/comfort and tender moments > < So at first I really wanted to make some fanart of your fic 'her pulse on my throat' because I really enjoy reading it!! But I could not finish it by the time I had to start working on the gift so I went with the other idea I had :O I really love the way you write Weiss and especially Nora!! I hope I did them justice with this little idea I had > < I didn't know if to make them in a romantic or platonic setting, so I guess it is up for whatever interpretation you like most!

[asterifish]

Helloooooo, is it okay if you write about Jeonghyeon from EVNNE.

I would like to request for an unrequited love trope, where M/n has a crush on Jeonghyeon at school. (Anything is actually fine, no pressure authornim. I just saw you asking for a request, so I just scooped something up)

Snowy Nights....

Characters: Lee Jeonghyeon, Male reader

Genre(s): 🫂,🍂

Type: One-Shot

Notes: Thank you for requesting!! I hope this fic is what you had in mind, I was trying so hard not to make it really agnsty :/

Reminder that ⭐ stands for M/n, and happy reading!

Story Under the cut!!

All of ⭐'s friends knew that he fell in love easily, but he tried hard to convince them that Jeonghyeon was diferent.

⭐ and Jeonghyeon first met in their Junior year. By that time, Jeonghyeon was missing a lot of school because of his trainee duties, and ⭐ once offered to cover for him and collect schoolwork. After a few weeks, this because a routine. On the days that Jeonghyeon missed school, ⭐ would collect the work that he'd missed, and on Friday, ⭐ headed over to Jeonghyeon's house to drop it off.

Occasionally Jeonghyeon woould invite ⭐ inside and give him somethint to drink, considering that⭐ had to bike for an hour to get to where Jeonghyeon was staying. ⭐ lived in the outskirts whereas Jeonghyeon lived deep in the city.

When Jeonghyeon realized that ⭐ was helpful and was always going to bring him his work, the two exchanged numbers so he could tell ⭐ when he wasn't going to be at school.

This routine carried on for about 6 months, and then over break, Jeonghyeon seemingly dissapeared. He never texted ⭐, and he never showed up to school after the break ended. ⭐ had asked around, talking to teachers and even sime of Jeonghyeon's friends, but nobody knew what happened.

(Fast forward they're both 23)

⭐ was scrolling on his phone at work since it was his break, when he heard a familiar voice. Looking up, he almost dropped his phone when he saw Jeonghyeon on TV.

"What...?" ⭐ gaped at the screen, moving out from behind the counter and walking up to it. I mean, ⭐ knew that Jeonghyeon was training to be a idol, but when Jeonghyeon dissapeared, ⭐ assumed that he'd failed. Now that he was seeing Jeonghyeon on the screen in front of an audience preforming, ⭐ was awestruck.

Jeonghyeon looked the exact same as he did in high school, and that caused ⭐'s heart to jump. He'd had feelings buried deep in his heart for so long eithiut realizing it. ⭐ had given up on his chances of asking Jeonghyeon out after he'd dissapeared.

"⭐! Get back to work, your break is over!"

Turning, ⭐ bowed in apology at his manager before slipping back behind the counter. After his shift ended, ⭐ went online and searched for Jeonghyeon's name. Turns out, Jeonghyeon had debuted under Jellyfish ENT, and was very popular. ⭐ had no idea how he'd never heard of Jeonghyeon's group.

In a few weeks there was a performance, and ⭐ bought tickets, wanting to see Jeonghyeon in person just one more time. One showing turned to two turned to ⭐ buying tickets for every performance EVNNE put on.

Works belong to @asterifish | reblogs help me a lot!

2023 | © @asterifish

[queerfanfiction]

Love Notes (Ch. 6)

Larissa Weems x musicteacher!Reader Thank you for being so supportive, even though it has been literal months since I have updated!! I will try to post a bit more regularly (but also who knows because depression is a bitch).

AO3 link

You decide to hop up and shower after Enid’s inadvertent pep talk, feeling more hopeful now than you have in days. After getting dressed and stocking the bathroom for recently arrived students, you head to Jericho. It’s time to finalize scavenger hunt plans. You don’t want to wait weeks and drag out the process through secret codes in your mixes.

Flowers were taken care of, thanks to your new acquaintance James. You had also created a few other clues but needed to access a few places, like the bookstore, in town to complete them. You try to push your latest trip with Larissa to Jericho from your mind as you begin jogging the wooded path from Nevermore grounds to the town square. The crisp spring air was welcomed, and hopefully you could use this time to clear your head. Besides, you didn’t want to check-out any vehicles to drive in case Larissa was nearby. Her quarters were right above the school’s scheduling office, and you weren’t ready to face her just yet.

Once you’re severely out of breath and think the pain in your side will topple you, you finally reach the outskirts of Jericho. Your pace slows, and you begin to map out a to-do list in your head. At the bookstore, you’ll need magazines and the clerk’s cooperation on the day of the scavenger hunt. At the flower shop, you’ll need to ensure James was able to secure lilies and might lend his labor in planting and arranging them. At the Weathervane, you will need to clue the new barista in on your plan. Since Tyler is now a guest of the state after everything went down a couple months ago, a new barista was hired. You two are friendly due to your aggressive kindness when they would accidentally make mistakes during training. You hated that people in town weren’t understanding of the realities of service work. Finally, you will need to visit city hall to ensure you don’t need a permit to occupy the public space around the fountain in the middle of the square.

As you check things off your list, you realize you still need a way to ensure Larissa makes it to the book store once in Jericho. You ponder this as you head back to Nevermore—this time at a reasonable pace. Once on the grounds, you cross through the courtyard to the dorms and see Enid giggling with Yoko. You smile softly at their carefree banter. It’s at this moment you have the idea to loop Enid into the scavenger hunt, especially since she had helped you put things into perspective when you were secluded away in your room. It’s also at this time that you know it would probably be a terrible idea to entrust Nevermore’s gossip queen with a secret regarding the school’s principal. Stumped at this conundrum, you trek up to your room to leaf through the magazines from the bookstore you bought.

You get to work creating the aspects needed to complete the scavenger hunt—a new mix CD, cut out letters, a fake newspaper crossword, and so on. After an hour or two, your energy and attention span begin to falter without food. Your eyes wander to the clock; with students back on the school’s campus, you could catch dinner before the cafeteria closes if you leave now. You toss on an oversized maroon cardigan and head downstairs.

As you wander, you wonder if Larissa will be tucked away in her office with dinner and wine like she usually is. You desperately missed the time you two would spend together. You also speculate about whether or not you two would stay friends if she rejected you. You think too highly of her to be sour if her heart does not feel the same magnetic tug that yours does.

—

The same morning as your talk with Enid, Larissa awoke in sweats. She normally regulated her body temperature well and wasn’t terribly affected by nightmares. She’d lived through enough monsters to not be effected by them in dreams. Recently, however, she had been agitated…fitful. She knew why, even though she tried to rationalize it away.

She didn’t have a lot of friendships, let alone close ones. Shapeshifters never do. That’s why she constantly worked so hard to change the perceptions of outcasts—both within and outside the community. Whatever she had with you, Larissa feared she had ruined it. At the beginning of her relationship with you, there was a feeling between you of treading carefully, of testing boundaries. When could you be silly or drop the professional façade? That hesitance quickly dissipated and was replaced with comfort and familiarity. Unfortunately, Larissa had learned to rely on it. She craved it. It balanced her. Letting others in didn’t come easily, yet it felt like you were meant to know her.

After giving it more thought, Larissa isn’t completely sure if seeing you flirt with someone made her lash out or if it was about being confronted with her own feelings for you. Regardless, the underlying fear came true—damaging her relationship with you.

Once her breathing steadied after waking, she peered around her room. Her living quarters used to feel so luxurious and private, something completely hers in a boarding school that constantly pulled her in so many directions. Now, though, all she can sense is emptiness in the space. Bitter echoes of joyous moments she had with you throughout the room lingered.

Not only did you vanish from her room and office, but she hadn’t visibly seen you since that day at the Weathervane. You were no where to be found these last couple weeks. Instead of regularly creating music in the orchestra room and popping into her office, the library, the conservatory, and student dorms, you had hidden away. She knows this, because she had asked around about you to various faculty (and even some students). Larissa’s schedule often took her throughout Nevermore, and she ached to catch a glimpse of you—check in on you in some way. It wasn’t until she stepped away from answering emails to drink tea on her balcony for a moment that she saw you. You were outside in the spring air, heading away from the school.

Larissa had never seen you in athletic clothing…mainly because you two had joked about running being a punishment, that it was often a mutually constituted performance by people who bought into traditional, often limited ideas of health. Of course, that’s not why seeing you stunned her.

Rather, her heart ached. She felt panicked, as if she should make a decision about what to do right then and there before you ran completely out of sight. With a deep, slow breath to hinder acting impulsively, Larissa began to consider her options. Is it better to swallow the hurt and try to salvage the friendship? Surely, only a friendship with you is better than being without you completely. Or would doing that and being close with no hope for a future together hurt worse? Could she handle seeing you with the florist all the time? Larissa sat her teacup down to rub her temples.

A distant knock at the door to her office pulled her away from her thoughts. She stepped inside and called for the visitor to enter. There was work to do, meetings to be held. Quickly and neatly compartmentalizing her thoughts and emotions, Larissa moved forward to greet the mayor.

—

You were in the orchestra room, arranging a new composition in preparation for the scavenger hunt. You couldn’t sleep now that you had decided on a course of action, so you decided to make use of the extra energy swirling in your stomach and radiating out through your arms and legs. Thankfully the dormitories were on the other side of Nevermore’s campus, meaning students could not overhear or be disturbed by your work. You don’t quite remember how you got across the grounds or what time you left your room. All you knew was that this was your time, your safe space.

All of the sudden you hear heels from down the corridor and know that it must be Larissa. Who else would it be? Sure enough, Larissa comes in. No hesitation in her approach. Your stomach flips, and you’re surprised she seems so confident and determined. No silk pajamas; she’s still in a work outfit. You can’t remember if you’ve seen it before. Her sense of purpose impelled you to lean the cello in your arms to it’s stand instead.

Her lips are on yours before logic can catch up with you, her hands cradling your face as if you’re something holy and sacred. You let out a surprised “mmph” but return the kiss eagerly, wrapping your arms around Larissa and inviting her closer. When your lips part ever so slightly, she deepens the kiss without delay. Her hands drift downward from your face to your neck to your arms to your outer thighs. You feel as if your heart is going to beat so quickly and become so enlarged that it will begin to break through your ribcage. Still, you wouldn’t stop this long-awaited union for anything.

Larissa’s swift hands had begun to pull you up into her arms, urging you to wrap your legs around her torso. You couldn’t bother with whether or not the cello was okay. After feeling her warmth against you, knowing she could feel the heat radiating from you too, both of your movements turned frantic. Your breath mimicked the raggedness it had from your run the other day.

“I want you. I want you. I need you.” Breathy declarations from Larissa ring out and ring throughout the room. In response, you bring her hand from the small of your back to your front, just under the edge of your shirt. The encouragement makes the taller woman whimper in between fervent kisses.

Suddenly, a deafening, reverberating crash sounds out.

Heart racing, sweaty, you jolt awake in your office chair in the orchestra room. Looking around anxiously, you see the cello you were playing on the ground, still vibrating. You must have was accidentally kicked it over in your sleep. The reddest blush plasters itself onto your cheeks. You were no stranger to dreaming of Larissa, but this is the first suggestive dream since she left you in the Weathervane. You didn’t even know someone could feel this embarrassed with no one else present. You’re alone and unsure of what time it is or what time you fell asleep after traipsing across campus. Only the quiet singing of birds outside indicated it was early morning. You normally frowned upon clocks in the classroom, but maybe you’ll rethink that now.

You look to the sheet music stand near you and find your phone. It’s dead. With a deep sigh, you gather your items and make your way to your living quarters. You need to confirm what time it is and change your clothes. Today is the day that you’re putting your scavenger hunt into motion.

—

Outside of Larissa’s office is a corkboard for Nevermore news, flyers, events, and so on that she checks daily. You post the anonymous note that serves as your first clue and fade into the stone wall behind you just as her office doors open and she steps out.

Larissa moved towards the board, not suspecting any terribly special memos pinned on a Saturday morning. Her eyebrows furrowed as she read the pasted together instructions. Larissa knew the mismatched lettering had to belong to whoever was gifting her the elaborate playlists. It was finally time to uncover the truth that she so desperately desired. She quickly glanced around to see if anyone was watching or leaving the area. …No one.

The patchwork note from cut-out magazine letters read, “Alas, it’s time to confess who I am. Come and find me if you can. I can skip but can’t walk. I’d rather sing than talk.”

A wild goose chase? Larissa considered. Truly, what can come of this? Just another CD with no confirmation of who this is? Even with her skepticism, Larissa was intrigued. She enjoyed conquering puzzles. There was something so satisfying about hunting down information and excavating the truth. With everything going on with you, Larissa welcomed a distraction, especially from someone who she considered herself to have a certain bond or connection with.

Snatching the clue from the board, Larissa retreated back to her office, abandoning her morning plans to roam among the grounds. I can skip but can’t walk…sing rather than talk…hm… Larissa mulled over the riddle. After a few moments, she can’t believe it took her this long to realize: CDs. Of course, it’s telling her to go back to the CDs. It’s where this all started. She walked over to her media player where one was already in place and started from track 1. Larissa felt as if she had committed the sounds and occasional lyrics to memory. How is there a clue here?

Pacing in front of her lit fireplace, Larissa fumbled haphazardly with the CD case in her hands as she listened with new intent. On the third turn around, her hand accidentally brushed off a sticky note that was placed on the back cover. “Wha-” she began while bending over to pick up the small piece of paper on the floor.

“Finish” she saw written on it. Finish what? A bit frustrated that she can’t make sense of the notation, she went to her desk to examine the other gifts. Sure enough, there were post-its on the backs of them as well. When read all together, they directed her to finish the newspaper crossword. Okay, so whoever this was definitely knew her routine. That’s not exactly breaking news, though. Larissa stepped out onto her balcony where she laid the newspaper next to her finished cup of tea. Flipping through to the crossword section, she saw a custom crossword tucked into the paper. In all honesty, she admired the dedication and thought that went into these clues.

Once she completed the crossword, it very obviously did not read out her admirer’s name like she had hoped. Rather, the answers prompted her to go to Jericho. Larissa pursed her lips, attempting to win against a budding smile as she shook her head. This is ridiculous. The final part of this clue spelling out Jericho also mentioned finding an outcast and a normie laughing together. Larissa didn’t know if she hated or loved that prospect, seeing as many Nevermore students had passes to Jericho this weekend. How many will be hanging out with a local, though? she asked herself while grabbing her overcoat and heading out the door.

—

“Alright, and what’s the plan?” you quizzed Enid on the ride over to Jericho.

In the passenger seat sat a wiggly werewolf who bounced her legs with excitement. In a singsong voice, she responded,“Hey now, give me some credit. I’m the one who suggested Lucas and I could give Principal Weems the next clue!”

“What if she asks who is orchestrating the scavenger hunt? How do I know you won’t crack under her prodding?” You narrow your eyes at her briefly before returning them to the road. You try to keep the tone light while still voicing your concerns.

With a small scoff, Enid confidently replies, “Please, one time Thing accidentally spilled nail polish on Wednesday’s typewriter, and I was an iron trap. If I can handle Wednesday Addams, I think I can handle Weems.” She ends the statement with her arms crossed, seemingly very proud of herself. To be fair, that was impressive. “Besides, I’m on the side of true love. This idea is so romantic!” Oh my god was all you could think to yourself at that statement. Once parked, you and Enid walk into the center of the square to wait for the normie component of this clue.

“What are we doing here again?” Lucas, the mayor’s son, questioned once he was in front of Enid. She sheepishly glanced at you and back to Lucas and then swiftly elbowed him in the side. It was kind of cute how seriously she was taking this.

You’ve done all you can do, so all you can do now is hope for the best. You put your hand on Enid’s shoulder and reassure her, “If you need anything, just give me a signal and excuse yourself. I’ll be watching from the Weathervane.” Well, mainly you’re reassuring yourself.

—

Once in Jericho, Larissa felt it an insurmountable task to search every store and outdoor area for the right outcast and normie. It didn’t help that she automatically parked in her usual spot, which happened to be by the flower shop. Getting out of her car, Larissa saw that very florist outside, pruning and watering plants. He noticed her and waved. She could feel a scowl on her lips, so she looked away, pretending to not have seen his friendly gesture. At least that’s one person that the admirer couldn’t be…

Having walked past the flower shop, Larissa cups her hands over her eyes to look inside Uriah’s Heap. She can’t imagine a normie having fun in the morbid antique shop, but she’s nothing if not thorough. After being satisfied that Uriah’s Heap did not contain her next clue, Larissa turned around to consider where to search next.

Before she can decide to go into another store, she sees Enid. Actually, she sees multiple Nevermore students. It’s a beautiful day, and many students want to make the most of their time before classes officially begin. Curiously, though, all of the other students are with Nevermore peers, and here is Enid with the mayor’s son. Larissa wouldn’t have pegged them to be friends.

Attempting to take control of the situation, Larissa came straight up to them. “Enid? Young Mr. Walker?”

“Principal Weems! Wow. Hi!”

For a brief moment, Larissa considered if running into them was a red herring. There was always a possibility that at a boarding school, the person sending her gifts and love notes could be a student with a harmless crush. Could Enid be the admirer? Larissa had always considered Enid to be like a daughter or menteé. She had felt protective of her, especially when Enid’s own mother made some questionable choices at the last parents’ weekend. Larissa pushed the thought to the furthest recesses of her mind; the person from those letters had a connection with her that no one else compared to. Well, almost no one else.

“What are you-” Larissa began but was cut off by Enid’s excited voice. “You should try to find the building with the most stories!”

“I assume this is the next clue?” Larissa stood in the familiar pose she often used to command attention. Combined with her height and immaculate dress, it simply wasn’t hard. “Enid, I’m terribly busy with finalizing spring semester contracts, schedules, and arrangements. I need to know who has enlisted your help. I know you know more than you are letting on.”

In an effort to be defiant, Enid asked, “What do you mean, Principal Weems? What help?” Her face gave her away, though. Her lips were pressed together firmly, as if she was attempting to hold back a grin.

Larissa considered escalating, but before she could, the young girl interrupted again with a determined look, “Remember, find the building with the most stories.” With that, she grabbed Lucas’s wrist and skipped off, pulling him behind her. All Larissa heard was next was a distant, “Byeeeeee, Principal Weems!”

Larissa is a bit surprised Enid could hold out, but the young werewolf’s evasiveness helped in that regard. Sitting underneath her gaze made Enid uncomfortable. Larissa remembers a time when she pressed the girl on Wednesday’s whereabouts the night Crackstone’s crypt flooded and the water was dyed red. Enid promptly confessed after Larissa put on a semi-firm voice and a stern look of disappointment.

Back to this never ending task of uncovering the identity of her secret admirer, Larissa thought. Bars have quite a lot of stories… The only bar in Jericho is the Rabbit’s Foot Tavern, and the only tales it holds are repetitive small town musings and desires to leave the town behind.

Though it seems like a long shot, it’s her only lead. As Larissa headed in the direction of the bar, she began to pass the bookstore. She only made it two more feet before she stopped in her tracks. There are thousands of stories there!

Feeling pleased with herself, she steps inside only to be met with a tired clerk that is paid too little to care about town shenanigans. The worker behind the counter gives Larissa a sticky note with specific numbers from the Dewey Decimal System. He doesn’t even look up from his phone. Larissa blinks slowly and gestures appreciatively before she heads to the 700s, somewhere in Arts & Recreation.

The “book” that she finds at the detailed location is actually a mix CD on the shelf disguised as a musicology textbook. Torn between feeling excited to have a new playlist and determined the find the next clue, Larissa pushes herself to continue and try to examine the cover, rather than only appreciating it. The track listing is unlike the previous CDs, so she begins to break down what she assumes is a code. Finally, Larissa cracks it: “Make a wish, but don’t take a drink.”

—

Once you watch Larissa disappear inside the bookstore, you leap into action. Hopefully you’ll have enough time to sit out all the lilies before she figures out the next clue. Thankfully, Enid offers to help (and makes Lucas assist). Even James briskly walks over with an armful of lilies. You appreciate the kind gestures and make a mental note to send everyone thank you after this is all over. You’re not sure how long it takes, but your calves and lower back ache from the manual labor. You all successfully sit out hundreds of lilies planted in recycled Weathervane cups. Thank goodness the new barista, Emily, was on board to save as many used paper cups as she could throughout her shifts over the week.

When Larissa makes her way to the town square fountain from the bookstore, you are safely back inside the Weathervane, becoming more and more anxious as you realize she is so close to finding out you’re completely smitten with her and have been keeping it from her. However, she stands at the fountain, unmoving, for much longer than anticipated.

Larissa did not expect this—the humble lily of the valley, her favorite flower. She had never been gifted them. When she was younger and pining after Morticia, Larissa remembered getting the other woman an entire slew of flowers. Dark, moody flowers. Orchids. Carnivorous plants. Anything she thought Morticia would like. In return, when Morticia asked about Larissa’s favorite flower, she ended up giving her lilies. Larissa thought lilies were beautiful, but she had always adored lily of the valley. It hurt that Morticia did not care enough to get her the correct flowers, because it symbolized so much more when it came to their relationship.

The lily of the valley is always overlooked, considered modest and unimposing. Of all people Larissa thought Morticia would appreciate that every single aspect of the flower is poisonous. Now Larissa is at a loss for who arranged this scavenger hunt, because she hasn’t told a soul about what this flower means to her in years. Before she can intervene, tears begin to fall from Larissa’s eyes, staining her face. Sitting on the edge of the fountain, surrounded by hundreds of lily of the valley, Larissa takes a few minutes to appreciate the flowers, almost as if she is mending her relationship to them.

After awhile, Larissa stands, smooths out the creases in the front of her clothes and takes a deep, filling breath in. As she can infer from the cups, the next stop is the Weathervane.

At the Weathervane, Larissa takes notice that it is unusually empty for a Saturday. She strolls around the counter and then the seating areas, examining the area for any clues. Her eyes glance quite a bit to the booth she normally shares with you. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary except for the much smaller amount of people she would expect.

When Larissa internally questions if this is the wrong destination, the barista calls out “Larissa” and sits a mug in the “pick-up” area before going back to make the rest of the drinks in the queue. Scrawled on the cup are the words “sit where you are most comfortable.” That doesn’t seem like much of a clue, she surmises incredulously.

The task at hand proves to be more difficult than expected. Larissa looks to her regular booth, the one you two often shared. Is that where I am most comfortable? She wants to face the door, to surveil the inside of the café for any changes. However, she normally lets you sit in that direction; Larissa liked to have her focus on you instead of the bustling environment. Longing for that familiarity wins out, and Larissa takes a seat facing the back of the Weathervane.

No more clues. You knew that was the last one. Once Larissa sits in her usual spot, you phase through the back wall near the bulletin board. Astonished, the taller woman steps up and out of the seat with a slight gasp.

Before preparing to explain the past several months and your previously concealed ability, you proclaim, in what you hope is the most impressive way possible, “I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but you owe me a hot chocolate date.”

You slide into the booth opposite to Larissa, waiting for her to sit back down.

—

Tagging: @lilsmeaux, @suckerforcate, @rickistheman, @tundra1029, @aster-loves-gwen, @justcallmelittleone, @poorwritingandstalecoffee, @lvinhs, @one-pining-queer, @kimiinou, @bobia13, @gwendolinechristieiscute, @kay-liah-scope, @readingtheentrails, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @weemssapphic, @ctrlamira, @im-a-carnivorous-plant, @winterfireblond, @gwendolinechristiesnumberonegirl. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged or have your tag taken off future posts. :)

[bestworstcase]

general question that is not ... That ... deep (i think). do you think it matters where characters or their families are from in terms of cultural differences or like world events, like cinder's backstory reveal making the atlas arc more personal for her but also stuff like "sun's from vacuo, so of course he's going to show up in vacuo during that arc of the show" (i must admit i'm asking this because i have a pet theory that summer is from either mistral or atlas and that this informs her role as a paragon and also because when you start counting so many people are from mistral and it adds to the worldbuilding for me)

character origin is absolutely something that narratively matters and in rwby’s case these decisions are being made with imo a lot of intention. for example,

argus was founded prior to the great war as a client city of mistral, having been conquered with help from mantle’s military—thus sealing the alliance between these two powers. this political arrangement persists into the present day with argus still being a mistrali territory but under the protection of the atlas military.

one of the key sources of international tension leading into the great war was vale’s criticism of the mistrali-mantelian reliance on slave labor. from this we may infer that argus was probably built on slave labor and, because it served as a hub for trade between pre-war mantle and mistral, with mistral “providing goods [that were] unavailable in the frozen tundra,” argus was a central hub of the mistrali-mantelian slave trade. the vytal accords ratified by the four kingdoms after the great war abolished slavery worldwide, one of ozma’s greatest achievements; decades later, ozpin lifted atlas into the sky to serve as a shining example of his ideals to the rest of the world.

cinder fall is trafficked into slavery from an orphanage on the outskirts of what appears to be argus, based on the terrain. what does this tell us about cinder and the world she grew up in? slavery was abolished on paper, but mantle (now atlas) and mistral never enforced these new laws in any meaningful way—the industry went underground, likely mutating into new forms (indentured servitude, prison labor, child trafficking fronting as legitimate orphanages), and argus is still the central hub of the international slave trade. this reveals the weaknesses in ozma’s approach to social change (doing and saying things that look and sound right, but failing to actually stand for his notional commitments and allowing problems to fester out of sight rather than risk confrontation / unrest / division) and the rot behind the façade that salem alludes to when she calls this his “so-called free world.”

and so, cinder is in many ways the crowning achievement of ozma’s efforts since the great war—his gilded idealistic utopia, atlas, could only exist through the societal choice to accept the enslavement and torture of a child (and cinder is certainly not the only one, so in this narrative she symbolically represents a multitude of other victims).

<- this is why rewrites / “fixes” that either have her originating in mantle or being enslaved in mistral for all her life tend to lose thematic punch; the underground continuation of the pre-war order is fundamental to what the story is doing with cinder.

similarly, sun is not just from vacuo, he’s a vacuan faunus who went to school in haven, which is in mistral, which is notoriously the most overtly racist kingdom out of the four—token faunus headmaster or not. (mistral has anti-faunus sundown towns and in the CFVY books velvet is terrified specifically of people from mistral because in her experience all of them are virulently bigoted—this is a girl who spent a lot of her childhood in atlas, so her lack of aversion to atlesians says a lot about how bad it is in mistral). so when sun in v1 says stuff like the white fang are a bunch of cultish freaks who use force to get whatever they want, that’s an opinion he formed while living in the racism capital of the world and should be taken with several handfuls of salt, in the same way that blake’s view of the white fang in earlier volumes is clearly colored by her experiences with adam.

<- but at the same time sun functions narratively as a herald for the repair of this cultural problem and healing of the divide between mistral and vacuo, because he’s a vacuan faunus who went to school in mistral, unlearned that bullshit, and went home to vacuo to strive toward a better future.

personally my money is on summer being from either

vacuo (malik the sunderer -> sundered rose, sword of destruction + summer maiden -> summer rose being vacuan), or

mountain glenn (yang and ruby are well-informed on the tragedy, v9 called back to v2’s mountain glenn arc, and signs look pretty strong for the vacuo arc to confront the history with mountain glenn via the destruction of vale)

…both of which follow a similar principle to cinder’s backstory being reserved until v8, when it emerged to inform our understanding of the narrative events happening in atlas. (i know it was originally planned for v5 and time/budget considerations factored into the decision to delay, but narratively it ended up being the stronger choice to wait anyway). basically summer enters the story properly in the arc when her history carries the most weight.

[setcolder]

The cruise arc is way crazier animated wtfff i CRIED during yor's revelation rearranging her motivation to keep her job.

I think yor and yuri sibling relationship is rarely being discussed because of the siscon gag. Its annoying honestly (the whole siscon ordeal being in the way), bc they have a very deep connection. Yuri prolly only remember yor as the only caregiver and family his whole life. On the other hand, yor remember the part where theyre still children with parents, hence why she said "I'm glad you (yuri) are with me". Yuri is an integral person in her life. The center of her motivation to fight. And yuri grew up to fight for HER too.

It's so heartbreaking that i feel sorry. Covering up their own bloodied hand from each other and still managed to put up cheerful face to one another. They both matured very young in their own way. Yor as the head of the family, the breadwinner, and yuri burdened with guilt as he feel powerless to be the one who protects her. As ironic as it is, since she doesn't need one. Although, both shouldn't have been in that position. Yor shouldve gone to school herself rather than taking dirty politicians life. Yuri grew to be more selfish than yor is—he only cared about her and everything comes back to her. His moral is yor. While yor managed to build moral compass that is based on humanity and compassion. But how did they have this divided perspective on living? What made yor grow up so well, despite spending almost all her life in the cold battlefield? Was there a parental figure that keep yor's moral inclined?

Yuri being possessive and obsessive worship toward yor most probably is a result of witnessing her coming home disheveled all his life. He went to school as an orphan too, theres chances him and yor are being bullied by their surrounding on childhood period. That's probably enough reason, beside his personality is a part of comedic gag. But still, i would want to know what happened throughout his life too. Yor was so positive, and shes his parental figure, but he formed his own grey moral to hold on as a mindset.

I'm curious too as too how and why they moved to the city. They lived in outskirts i believe? What made them move out? I think around her teenage year yor managed to reach thier financial for the better, and chose schools in the city for yuri's better education? As far as i remember, yuri was doing his education year pretty fast compared to his peers

And also, i know in the canon timeline yuri being an sss officer were probably going for less than a year. But hes already got someone close to a caring guardian, his lieutenant. He even knew about yuri whole motivation being his sister (well ig everyone who acquainted yuri will automatically be shoved with yuri's yapping on yor)

I feel like the canon manga should really address the situation between their sibling relation. When the secrets are out in light, would that motivation will stay the same? Same goes to loid as well, although he would be still pretty strong on that since his motivation is going to make the world for a better place. He aims so high its still wouldn't be a question if he decided to stay in this line of work. While yor and yuri though, some parts its still solid if they stayed respectively, but since their motivation is to have their own siblings in peace while in reality they fought their own battles—it will bring even more questioning about their motivation to live and fight.

At some point the siscon gag need to be dropped. It feels a shame if theyre not getting more explored. Yuri thinking loid stole yor from him is a given since hes practically made himself bitchless but he need to flip the script and accept the new addition as his family—that way he will feel less sense of loneliness. He thought with loid in the picture he might taken the role of protecting yor from the dirty world (but for this hes stubborn and think loid isn't capable enough) (i just thought this would made some sense on why he hates loid so much) (i rationalize things other than his irrational siscon thing bc i dislike that)

I was originally putting think pieces about yor and now i ended up talking more about yuri FUCKK I'll write more in separate post damn

[lavendersartistry]

i know i should be writing the sleepover fic, but Onyx's recent post hit me with inspiration so HERE WE GO-

Space Riders AU - @onyxonline

Official Lore of Eve's Planet + Eve's Family

1. Planet Itself

Eve's planet is essentially a "twin" to Venus, known as Eden. Like Venus, Eden is the third planet from the Sun, but to the left of the solar system.

Eden is more tropical than Venus, the planet known for its main city oasis Atalanta. The city is the mainstream tourist attraction and farmland industry.

Eden is also known for its popular food Solar Mango, which is a fruit that was found in the outskirts that was forever ripe despite the harsh sunlight.

2. Planet Royalty

There hadn't been much of the royals until of recent with the latest royal family: the Ewe family.

Queen Aurora was a wandering Lilim alien that stumbled into Eden around the time King Lucien went on a mission to retrieve stolen artifacts from thieves in Neptune. When Lucien returned home, he was greeted by maids attending to Aurora.

As known already, the royal council is strict when it comes to the lives of the royals. When Lucien approached them about marrying Aurora, they refused to allow it. But Lucien married Aurora either way. Some people suspect the royal council are responsible for the king and queen's death during the war.

Clarification: Lucien is a male kumiho and Aurora is a Lilim alien. So their species types down to each of their daughters: Eve and Ginger K.

3. Powers + Other Notes

Eve and Ginger K deprive more power from Venus than Eden since it has been known that Eden holds no ability of cosmic power.

Both girls have a "shell" to their skin, similar to reptiles. This does mean they have to shed their skin every few months.

Both girls have the ability to give someone immortality for a limited period of time, which people tend to take for granted. This power is effective to the girls as it is technically handing their life force to someone. After the war, both girls stopped handing this power.

Besides this, the girls are able to create illusions and to shapeshift into either another species or into a animal. They are also able to heal someone's visible wounds.

4. Eden Now

Eden is now under a powerful forcefield made by Eve herself, Atalanta being heavily guarded by the military. Verified Space Riders are granted access to the palace only as while Eden's people are only allowed in if it's school trips. Tourists have lost access to Eden.

Eve is in training to becoming the new queen, Ginger K reduced down to be the military's general. Both are given personal guards (royal council's command).

The royal council is more strict to Eve, nearly enforcing her to picking a lover from neighboring kingdoms across the galaxy. Bolt thankfully shut it down before it escalated but costed a thin line between him and the council.

[bunorous]

— 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬

[masterlist]

gen, henri clément x augustin lambert

tags - canon compliant, character study, vignettes, mental health issues

rated m - 2.7k words

warnings - referenced/implied csa (not explicit but can be interpreted that way)

— snapshots of henri’s life before and during the war.

(Please rb + read on ao3 if possible 🫀)

[banner by reveriesources]

“He’s beautiful,” murmurs a mother, cradling her newborn child in her arms. He’s red and chubby, a light dusting of blonde hair across his crown. She has hair of the same hue, and it falls messily around her shoulders in two disheveled plaits. The child looks more like his mother than like his father, long face and tired eyes like a painting. Thin and lithe and gangly.

“You’re beautiful, aren’t you, my sweet boy?” The mother giggles, overwhelmed with joy. Her name is Cèline, but most call her Cece, for her initials being the same letter. She taps her child once on the nose, who giggles in turn.

“Have you chosen a name?” Speaks a man, the father, voice low and booming. It comforts the baby as if his voice is wrapping him in strong arms and keeping him safe.

“That I have,” Céline replies with a smile. “Hush, now. He needs to sleep, okay?”

—-

The newborn turns into the infant turns into the boy. And the boy doesn’t do well with other children.

Céline has a friend, Claudette, who lives in the countryside with her husband and daughter. They’re in the backyard of her extravagant estate, which is more of a field fenced in with white picket. The land is expansive, though, stretching all the way to a lone oak tree in the corner. The children are sitting under it, playing with toy soldiers of dubious nationality. The boy is curled up under the table on the patio, holding onto Céline’s dress. She affectionately ruffles his short crop of blonde-ish hair and tries to coax him out, but he doesn’t want to leave her.

The boy knows she uttered his name, but he can’t remember what it was. He can only remember a firm command to play with the other children. A firm command to leave her alone, as the boy heard it.

As he walks across the field to the shade under the tree, where some children are already casting him cautious stares, he feels it stretch for miles in front of him. He tries not to cry. He stands at the edge of the shade, in the sunlight, and feels it burn his back. It’s a fine day. The grass is green and lush and the birds are singing. The boy is the only one who notices.

The children murmur and giggle amongst themselves. Looking back and forth between their friends and the boy. They let him play with them, or rather, be in their presence, but he more or less lingers on the outskirts of the group. Picks at grass and wonders for the first time, but certainly not the last: what’s wrong with me?

He was the only one in school who could not only read, but enjoyed it, too. He read books about left out children, cast aside by the world, smiling for the first time when one child would come sit with them even though nobody else would.

That does not happen to the boy. One of the children, Claudette’s daughter, insults his overalls, the ones his mother had sewed, and he runs all the way back to the patio. He never sees Claudette again. Or her bastard daughter.

—-

Gerard, the father, is in over his head with disappointment. His son is five years old and has not made a single friend. Other parents on the lane are asking them when their son is going to be more social, and they are humiliated.

There is a girl they know named Charlotte. She is a daughter of a once-influential family in Paris. One day, her parents took her, left Paris, and never returned. The boy and his family know, though, where they went.

Charlotte lives in a small homestead in the woods. Charlotte told the boy about how her parents thought that, one day, Europe would go to shit and only the people living off the grid would survive. People living in cities would all die in fires, horrible fires. Weapons we have never seen before. Weapons that should not exist. The boy cried in fear, but this time, he wiped away his tears. He didn’t want to disappoint his father.

Charlotte’s backyard didn’t have grass perfectly trimmed to a quarter-inch with ornate fences. Charlottes backyard was a dense brake of trees. Charlotte took the boy by the hand and lead him through it, weaving through thick and thin trunks, bushes and shrubs, and they were spat out beside a little creek. That was its name, Petit Ruisseau. Sunlight dappled the ground in little specks where it peeked through the canopy. Thin streams of water flow over rocks that jut out from the riverbed, and everything glistens and shines.

The boy likes Charlotte. She has dark skin with thick, curly hair bouncing around her shoulders and a gap in her two front teeth. Her parents had made him lunch and told him what a polite guest he was. When they smiled it didn’t feel fake and perfunctory. The boy likes her, so when she pushes him into the creek, which is so shallow he only gets the front of his clothes wet, he laughs and pushes her in too. Damp, they run back home, and suddenly the boy is very afraid. He’s made a mess.

But, somehow, Charlotte’s parents don’t mind. They give him a new set of clothes to wear. It’s a knitted green sweater and brown shorts, and they’re a little bit too big because Charlotte is a year or two older than him, but he doesn’t mind. They smell like her home. Her parents hang up his clothes with clothespins and when they dry he’s sent home. His mother sees him with the widest smile she’s ever seen.

—-

Christmas comes fast and soon there’s snow blanketing every surface of Paris. Lights are lit up in shops and on corners, and everything seems to sing. The boy wants to get a gift for his new friend Charlotte. She’s the only thing he loves. She’s the only person besides his mother and sometimes his father who was nice to him. The boy liked playing with her. He didn’t want her to grow bored or disappointed if he didn’t get her a gift.

Céline asks the boy if he wants to spend Christmas with Charlotte and her little family. He and his father go the morning of Christmas Eve, and his father repairs their roof, damaged by the snow, and reinforces the support beams of their home, and then leaves. Charlotte has a sister, Carina. They’re laughing and the boy remembers when his mother announced he would have a baby sister, and then a few weeks later, she cried for an entire day straight, and he never got to have one.

It makes him sad, seeing them, and thinking about what could have been, and of everything that’s been stolen from him. But he smiles despite. There is so much pain inside of him, but none in this room.

—-

The boy has turned into the man and the man is named Henri Clément, and he looks just like his mother, and he has one best friend, and his name is Augustin Lambert, but Henri has other friends, too.

He appreciates violence more than ever for how it brings people together. They’ve got no choice but to be friends, if not just amicable, with one another, and Henri has gotten good at pretending to be human. At knowing what to say when what he wants to say wouldn’t work.

He cannot tell you what is his favorite color, or what is his most cherished memory, he doesn’t know— he cannot envision his own face in his head. It’s all a watercolor blur of shapes and colors. Concepts rather than images. But he knows Augustin. Knows his height, his weight, all his favorite things and all of his fears. He knows what makes him human.

He likes Augustin. And what’s better is Augustin likes him back. Likes him enough to where he’ll prank him, crawl into his bunk with him, laugh with him, kiss him. Henri doesn’t see him doing that with anybody else. He feels special.

Henri respects Augustin, though, and Augustin has a wife, and he has a child with that wife, and Henri is not his wife and he is not bound to him in any way, by no band of metal. They romp because that is all they can do in this manmade hell of theirs. Henri is tormented by his thoughts. If they had met under different circumstance, would Augustin have liked him as much?

—-

Henri has a shoebox he keeps under his bunk, buried under all manner of things.

It’s filled with photos. He makes frequent trips to the darkroom when everybody else is asleep, and develops them. They’re all of Augustin. In most of them, he’s aware the photo is being taken. They’re out on patrol, or they’re having lunch, or they’re playing cards. In others, he isn’t. He’s sleeping with Henri’s arm wrapped around his shoulder. Or he’s across the room, facing away from him, but Henri felt compelled to record the moment anyway.

Photos are all he has. He cannot remember the events of last week, or the week before that. Not his mother’s name, nor fathers, not even that little girl with the curly hair he used to play with. Teasingly did Noyer call him a stalker, but there was sincerity laced in it. Henri can only hope Augustin does not think him the same way. Henri can only hope Augustin does not come to fear him for things he already fears about himself.

—-

Henri loves nobody but himself.

This is his own decision. He cannot love his mother, he doesn’t remember her. He cannot love his father, he cannot remember him either. He cannot love Augustin, for he cannot love someone to whom he is not the first love of. He definitely cannot love himself, in much the same way you cannot love someone you’ve never met.

You can, though, because Henri dreams about it. Dreams about a world where he stayed and met a woman. Camille, maybe, that nurse who worked with his mother. She was always so kind to him. He thinks about a moment that never happened. He thinks about his children. He thinks about how he’d guide them, how he’d tell them never to apologize for being them. And he weeps. He curls into a ball and he weeps. Like he did when he was a boy. He can remember that much.

Someone can love a stranger, Henri realizes, but Henri is not someone. Henri is something else entirely.

—-

He hates Augustin.

He hates him. He wants to kiss his eyelids, and hold him while he sleeps, and he wants to hear Augustin speak to him, hear all the things he hopes he’s keeping in, but he cannot. And he hates him for it. And he knows it is not Augustin’s fault, and he hates him anyway. And for that, he hates himself.

Hate is special like that. It is less infectious than a smile or a yawn but more dangerous because we do not notice until we find ourselves thinking vile things. Vile things like wishing you didn’t exist. Vile things like wishing someone else didn’t exist.

He thinks of things that haven’t happened yet, thinks of possible situations where Augustin shuns him, or pushes him away, and he hates Augustin for those, too, and hates him so much he weeps again, and wonders why he’s like this.

Augustin is just a kid, though. His face retains its baby fat, where Henri’s has been stripped hollow. He’s just a kid. They are both just kids.

They shouldn’t be here. But they are.

—-

Lonely little boys never stop being lonely.

Charlotte had a brother. His name was Aimé and he was a foot taller than Henri. He was tall and broad and wore a comforting smile. He had dinner with him and Charlotte’s family on Christmas. When Henri returned home, though, he never saw Charlotte again, or Aimé, who was strangely ravenous as he ate. He never learned why. He just knew that, for some reason, everything he loved would be taken from him, every last shred until he was bare, and Henri was okay with that.

He took pride in how many times he had to make peace with something he wasn’t truly content with in order to survive.

—-

He had a teacher in grade school. Her name was Professor Beaufort, and she was a demon sent from Hell.

Everybody hated her class. Everybody’s bones ached by the end of them, and yet everybody respected her, because she was a good teacher.

Is that what it is to be good? To make people hurt? And is it any different from the kind of hurt that Henri’s been causing?

Augustin had a teacher, too, who was also a priest, because he grew up in such a small village near the border of Belgium. His name was Father Bernard, and he held food drives at the church for any student who was struggling, but none of them were. They shared everything they had among themselves and they were all happy that way.

Henri smiled quizzically. “Isn’t that the type of person we’re fighting?”

Augustin seems to think for a moment, eyes going unfocused where they rested on Henri. Then, he looks back to face the endless wasteland in front of them. “I suppose it is,” he confirms. “Then, maybe we are not the saints we thought ourselves to be.”

“I never thought myself a saint,” Henri blurts.

The soldiers are all self righteous. It’s why they’ve lived so long. They think they’re serving a higher purpose, but Henri does not, and maybe that makes him worse, to fight without a clear direction.

Augustin looks confused, and intrigued, and maybe a bit proud. “You don’t?”

Henri shakes his head.

Augustin clasps his hand on his shoulder and it’s so novel to make him shudder. “Then you are the best of all of us, mon ami.”

—-

The garrison is gathered in the mess hall, playing poker and drinking. Last night, Henri put human shit in Augustin’s pillowcase. Tonight, he will find it.

The men are crowded around the table, some playing, but most are just talking. About home, about life after the war or about life during. One of them, Delisle, looks at Henri.

“And you, Clément?” He probes. “Have you any regrets?”

Henri snorts. “You speak as though I am already dead, brother.”

The group shares a laugh and Delisle shrugs. “We are all dead men walking. It is good to sort your demons out while you have the chance, yes?”

Henri hums and looks down at his drink, golden liquid swishing in its glass. And thinks. He cannot remember anything. He just knows he feels guilt. He wants to be different, and he regrets that, too. He feels all of the eyes of the world on him. Watching him. Waiting.

Always waiting.

“I have no regrets,” he says with confidence, looking back up at Delisle. “I just wish the world had been a better place.”

Somewhere, distantly, Augustin yells in horror.

There is so much pain in the world. But not in this room.

—-

A strange feeling overcomes Henri in the last stretch of his life. Melancholy. And spiritual. As if he is realizing all at once every realization he will not have the chance to make naturally. Like his life is trying to account for everything he’ll miss out on.

Everything changes, everything ends. He doesn’t feel guilt anymore. He doesn’t try to smile when he doesn’t feel like it. He doesn’t stop himself smiling just because he feels like it. He doesn’t feel shame for how his heart feels. Sometimes, he looks into the nothingness for hours and hours and doesn’t think a single thought.

It is a wonderful gift, to have nothing going on inside you.

There is a death rattle. Henri hears it resounding in the universe. He hears it when dice are thrown against a table. He hears it when lightning crashes. He hears it in laughter. He hears it in everything. He sees infinity stretch out before him, wide and inviting. The universe is slowly dying around him.

What a beautiful thing it is, then. To live in spite of, rather than in fear of.