#rapid feathered creatures

[halfmoonshines]

soft spot

damon salvatore x reader

summary; you're injured in a fight with a rogue vampire who breezed into town, and Damon is being weird about it

hurt/comfort

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You tried to stay hidden in the shadows outside of the streetlight, but your rapid heartbeat probably would've given you away either way.

"Who the hell is this guy?" You heard Damon mutter from the spot he was tossed just a few feet away from you, dusting the dirt from the trash cans he'd squished like cardboard. His ice blue eyes spared you a quick glance but didn't say a word, trying not to draw any attention your way.

Damon intervened as Caroline was struggling to grapple with the stranger. In the span of a moment, she was on the ground groaning with a broken arm and he had launched the assailant to give them a chance to regroup - right toward you.

You couldn't help the little gasp that you emitted, no matter how much time you spent around these creatures this was a vampire. One in particular who would have no hang ups about snapping your neck.

Per their supernatural hearing, it didn't take long for the mans vicious senses to find you, and took half as long for him to have a bruising hand around your neck.

The sound of Damon yelling your name was distant in the background, you were focused on the threat literally snarling in your face.

"Don't you smell good?"

That was as far as the stranger managed to get before Damon had the broken handle of a broom protruding from his back. His grip slipped off your throat as his body slid sideways and you toppled to the ground, heading bouncing off the pavement hard enough for you to see stars.

Damon's voice was faint to you again, but you could hear him begging for your attention. Caroline was in the background too, in panicked discussion with someone over the phone. You couldn't get your eyes to focus though, hair becoming wet and warm.

The eldest Salvatore's touch on you was feather light, his mouth still moving with words he wanted you to latch onto but you had already lost the dance with consciousness.

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The first thing you were aware of when you woke up in a bed was that it was decidedly not yours. The next thing you noticed was that you weren't in any pain, just a bit stiff when you went to sit up from the bed. Someone had definitely given you blood, which was against every rule her and her friends had discussed, but from the smell of the sheets behind you - Damon wouldn't have cared either way.

You made your way out of the room and down the stairs, vaguely knowing the layout of the boarding house from your handful of times actually coming inside. Over the last few months you had become dangerously intertwined in Elena's grapple with the supernatural, despite Bonnie's vehement advice to go as far as possible. You were emancipated, you could switch schools and move to Pennsylvania.

No, you couldn't. Once your conscious had been opened to everything around you, once you were aware of the dangers of the dark - you could never ignore that. Better the evil you know.

Speaking of.

You came upon Damon in his favorite spot, a tumbler of bourbon in his hand while he leaned up against the fireplace. The suit jacket he had been wearing earlier that night was discarded on the couch behind him, a small amount of blood on the collar of his shirt still.

"You always look so broody." Poking fun at him might not be in your best interest, but you figured you'd give it a go. Over the last few months, your and Damon's relationship had morphed into something you couldn't quite understand, but moments like these had seemed to become more comfortable between you.

"I believe you're confusing me with my much broodier younger brother." Damon's words were laced with sarcasm, but his tone didn't have a hint of amusement.

You felt suddenly awkward, in his space and home. Just because you had gotten kind of comfortable lately didn't mean he wanted to be around you.

"Well, thanks for the whole life saving thing." You began to babble nervously, a faint pink glow to your cheeks. "I'll get out of your hair. Sorry for taking your bed, I don't even know what time it is-" You had begun turning toward the door, making to just leave and find a way home. How you could this age and still flustered in front of attractive men, especially murderous ones was beyond you.

Damon appearing in front of you almost made your heart stop, hair stirring at his incredibly fast movements. He was barely a foot away, his piercing gaze holding your confused one. From this close you could smell just how much he had probably drank.

"Are you... okay, Damon?" Your voice wavered a bit under the heat of his stare and you saw the muscle in his jaw working overtime while he looked like he was debating whether or not he wanted to actually say anything to you.

"You don't have to thank me for saving you when you were in danger because of me." His eyes had drifted from your eyes to your neck, voice whisper quiet.

Vulnerability was the last thing you expected from the man standing over you. "What do you mean? It wasn't your fault. Just wrong place, wrong time and I so happen to be the weakest link." You hoped your voice conveyed even a bit of humor.

His eyes snapped back up to yours, head tilting slightly while he assessed you. Damon's hand rose to grab a lock of your hair, twirling it around his finger in thought. Your breath caught in your throat, feeling like you were on the precipice of something.

"My weakest link, maybe. Have I told you how much I like your hair?" His voice was still quiet, an innocent lilt.

Your mind was reeling, half drunk on his closeness and hazed by confusion. Where was this coming from? Had he drank a small liquor store and now he was confusing her for her much more appealing best friend?

"Damon, I'm not sure how much you've had to drink, but I'm happy to brew you a pot of coffee. Does that even work for vampires?"

You had started to pull away, making to turn toward the kitchen but Damon was infinitely faster than you. His drink was discarded, one hand going to your upper arm and the other to your waist, tugging you back into his vicinity.

"On the contrary, I don't think I've ever been so sure minded, sparrow. I'm sorry for not protecting you tonight." His voice was tight now, the warmth of his hands tingling down your body.

"It's not your fault, or job, Damon." Your voice had quieted to match his, all humor leaving. You didn't know where this guilt had come from, but it was misplaced. Since you'd met Damon he'd made some bad decisions, but you had also seen his sacrifice so much for the sake of the team. Even if others didn't acknowledge it, he didn't need to add anymore to his plate.

"I'd like it to be. My job." His reply was lightning quick, eyes pinning yours in place.

Were you dreaming?

Damon's signature smirk was visible for a split second, telling you that your confusion was written all over your face. "I think that I'm asking you, in the most coming of age movie way, if you'd like to go steady?"

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send any fic requests here!! all comments/criticisms/requests welcome

[illyrianbitch]

Of Our Own Devices — Part Three

For @erisweekofficial Day 3: Betrayal

Pairing: Reader x Eris

Summary: Despite wishing he weren’t, Eris Vanserra is a creature of habit. A mask is easier to put on, easier to wear than to remove. When you confront him about a recent deception, you’re faced with that reality first hand.

Warnings: mentions of injury, abuse, and blood, fighting verbally and physically, harsh words

Word Count: 2.3k

Part Two | Part Four

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

His cabin was quieter than usual, the crackle of the fire absent.

Tonight, Eris hadn’t bothered to light it, nor had he changed out of his old clothes. The heavy green coat still hung from his shoulders, pressing heavily against his back. Beneath the coat, his shirt was stained with crimson, each wound on his back pressed uncomfortably against the material, their blood gluing the fabric to his skin.

The coat hadn’t been stained yet, but it was bound to be if didn't remove it in a few minutes. If he were less exhausted, he might have cared more—might have taken the time to clean the blood from his shirt.

But Eris was too tired, too exhausted to care much about the state of his clothes.

The distant sound of a horse made him sit up, his body tensing in anticipation, reading itself for another round of fight. A few moments later, the door burst open.

He blinked at the sight before him, his heart beginning to thud rapidly in his chest. A tight knot formed in his stomach as he let out a breath.

"Y/n."

You shut the door behind you with a decisive thud, your eyes narrowing at him, dark with an intensity that made him take another breath.

"You lied to me."

Eris remained still, calm and collected, as you took a few steps forward. Your hair was tousled and windblown, clearly the result of the rapid horseback ride you’d endured to get here. He was tempted to ask how you had managed to arrive so quickly, but the determined glint in your eyes halted him. They held a resolve he had never seen before, a redness around them that hinted at tears. His heart clenched at the thought.

He stayed silent as you continued.

"You told me the rumors weren't true. That Lucien wasn't near. But he was. Him and the Cursebreaker."

Eris opened his mouth to speak, but you raised a hand in interruption. "Your brothers have a tendency to talk when they're drinking."

His back ached from the barely healed lashes Beron had so graciously administered. In the back of his mind, he wondered how well his brothers had fared, if his father's disappointment had weighed as heavily on them for their collective failure. He settled on no; it hadn’t. If it had, they wouldn’t have been drunkenly spilling their secrets in an Autumn tavern, recklessly letting such information slip through court ears—through yours.

"Okay," Eris said finally, his voice tight. "I lied."

"You and I don't lie to each other. That is the one thing we have." A muscle feathered in your jaw. "Why start now?"

He took a moment to think. There was no use in lying, not to you. But the truth seemed lackluster, seemed almost trivial. He rolled his shoulders back, ignoring the searing pain that shot through his body with the movement.

"It was for your own good," he said, almost nonchalantly.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Eris knew they were the wrong choice. They came across as commanding, entitled—like a High Lord’s son presuming to know what was best for a common-court female. He'd always been adept with his words, skilled at navigating conversations to elicit the reactions he wanted. But that skill faltered around you, weakened as he struggled to balance what was most tactful to say with what was most honest. Even after all these years, he wasn’t sure what he truly wanted from you. Respect, perhaps.

You scoffed, running a tongue along your teeth as you shook your head in disbelief — in anger.

"That is a pathetic excuse," you said sharply. "That was not your decision to make."

Eris let out a tight sigh, feeling the reluctance in his lungs from the lingering imprint of his father’s boot. He was sure the area was bruised — a rib slightly out of place, the skin above bound to be darkening. Your eyes flickered down to his chest as a ragged breath escaped him, eyes softening as if you had heard his thoughts as they crossed his mind.

"If I had told you the truth, you would have run off into the wilderness in some reckless attempt to help him."

The words came out quicker than intended, more manic than he’d prepared for. But they seemed to distract you, pulling your heated gaze from his chest and back to his eyes. The anger in your expression simmered again, the soft crease between your brows smoothing as if the concern that had bubbled up moments before had been momentarily forgotten.

"You're godsdamned right I would've," you growled. "Because that's what you do for the ones you love."

The words hit him like a physical blow, his muscles aching under the weight of them. He couldn’t help it—the way his hands tightened at his sides. They didn't tighten into fists, no, but in slow, rigid flexes as he fought to keep his breathing even.

"You would've gotten yourself killed."

You shook your head again. "Don't pretend this was because you care about me."

"I do care about you."

"Do you?" You titled your head at him, a small scowl curling at your lips. "Or did you want to make sure I wasn't there to witness when you tracked them down like prey?"

His stomach tightened, a sinking feeling settling as he struggled to keep his composure. Every fiber of him ached to take your hand, to drop to his knees and lay himself bare. He wanted to explain that there was more than what you saw—that he lied for the first time because he wanted you safe, that he had tried his best not to hurt Lucien or Feyre. He itched to speak, to reveal the truth, but instead:

"I had orders," was all he responded.

You waited for a moment, your eyes scanning his face as if searching for more, as if willing him to confess further. If Eris had grown up with a different father, one who hadn't instilled in him the ability to withstand torture, he would have crumbled. He was sure any male in his position would have. But he was built for moments like these—whether he liked it or not. So you waited.

And nothing came.

He stayed quiet. He was going to choose his words carefully now, he decided. Very carefully.

You laughed humorlessly, but the sound caught in your throat. The corners of your eyes glistened. "Tell me you tried to fight against it. That you waited as long as you could, that you tried to protect him."

The truth was, Eris had. He'd waited it out, had attempted to slow his brothers down, but there was only so much he could do without it becoming dangerous, without losing his control. But as he stared into the anger in yours eyes, felt the desperation that clung to your voice, he realized it didn't truly matter.

"Why?" He asked.

You blinked. "Why what?"

He took a cautious step forward. You didn’t flinch, didn’t so much as move a muscle. The small act—or lack of one—was a comfort at least, telling Eris that you were not afraid of him. It was all just anger. Anger and something that tasted bittersweet, something like disappointment.

Disappointment meant you’d expected more from him. And while it made something deep in his chest glow, that sort of expectation was dangerous.

"Why do you want me to tell you that?"

"Are you seriously asking me that?"

"Is it so you don't feel as guilty about caring for me?"

You blinked again, your mouth parting slightly as you shook your head once more. This time, it was a meek gesture, almost shy, the defiance in your posture giving way to a vulnerable edge. "That's- That's not it."

"Is that so?" Eris hummed in contemplation, pursing his lips as he held your gaze. "Are you sure?"

You shifted your weight on your feet, pulling your gaze away from him momentarily to cast a glance around the cabin, as if something had caught your interest. To any casual observer, it was a simple gesture—but not to Eris. He knew you. He was right. He knew he was.

You brought your gaze back to him.

"Why are you asking me all of these questions?"

Eris shrugged. "You come storming into my cabin, demanding things of me, and yet I'm not entitled to questions myself?"

"All I'm 'demanding' for is for the truth."

He took another step forward, keeping his eyes trained on yours, amber glowing like a forest fire. When he was close enough to feel your breath, for the scent of you to fill his nose, he leaned down. The coldness spreading through him was unmistakable, the softness he usually regarded you with—the one you didn’t quite seem to notice—slowly being replaced by something more taunting. He was too exhausted to care about his clothing, yes, but he was also too exhausted to care about proving himself anymore. It didn’t matter.

"And if the truth were that I didn't resist? That I pursued them without hesitation? That I allowed my brothers to capture Lucien so I could chase the Cursebreaker myself—what then?"

He watched as something changed in your face, eyes darkening as you somewhat recoiled, taking a minuscule step back. You scowled, a deep furrow forming between your brows, and then you clenched your teeth again. Without even looking down, Eris knew your hands were in fists at your sides, your nails pressing into your palms.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" You managed through gritted teeth. Your scowl fell into something more reminiscent of a frown. "I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt and you're fighting it. Gods, I feel sorry for you."

Your voice rose as you spoke and he could taste the bittersweet flavor of your disappointment. You turned abruptly, striding towards the cabin door, your jaw clenched so tightly Eris could almost hear the grinding of your teeth. Suddenly, he felt awake, but it was a different kind of energy—one of anger, of frustration.

"We're not done talking," Eris said, stalking after you. "Don't walk away from me."

You whirled around, your voice rising in a fierce, anguished cry. "I should've walked away from you centuries ago!"

Eris blinked, feeling the weight of your words settle deeply, like a dull ache in his bones.

He took in the raw, distraught expression on your face. You took a deep breath, rapidly blinking as you ran a hand along your face. Eris wondered how you could be so beautiful in such a state of disarray — hated himself that this disarray was caused by some sort of care you held for him. Some sort of care that he didn’t understand enough to be careful of.

"I was so foolish to believe that even a few hundred years could rid you of what you were born with," you said.

He clenched his jaw, taking another deep, painful, ragged breath. "And what is that?"

You paused for a moment. Then you straightened your back, staring at him straight on. The disappointment was gone, no bittersweet aftertaste, no sense of care or anguish. It was pity that he sensed in your gaze.

"Cowardice disguised as cruelty."

He almost laughed.

Eris knew that word better than anything else. It was etched into his skin, ingrained in his lineage. He had learned early in life that cruelty was often easier than kindness. Cruelty required no second thoughts; it was swift, unyielding, and in a way, liberating. With a sharp word or a cold look, he could build walls so high and thick that no one dared to scale them. Kindness, however, was different. It was a burden. It demanded patience, understanding, and—above all—vulnerability.

He had allowed himself to be willing with you, to let his guard down slightly, to let you see past the facade he needed to survive. But even then, he had been wary. You'd wanted too much, wanted his kindness, his patience. It wasn't possible. Eris could never fully be himself until his father was dead—this he was sure of.

Until then, Eris had a role to play. A court to maneuver. And cruelty didn’t ask why or weigh consequences.

Kindness had no place in the life he was being molded to lead. Not now.

"I don't need Lucien's leftovers to tell me that I'm a good male, that I'm worthy of forgiveness. I was never asking for it. I do what’s required of someone like me. Not everyone can afford to be ordinary."

The sting of your hand wasn’t the first thing Eris felt as your palm collided with his cheek. No, it was the searing intensity of your anger that struck him first—a blazing heat that radiated from the force of it alone.

There was a long beat of silence as Eris stood still, his face turned slightly to the side, skin tingling with the impact. Slowly, he turned his face back to look at you.

And you smiled.

It was a smile that carried no warmth, only a cold, detached finality. You smoothed down your hair, the gesture almost casual, unnervingly so.

"You'll fit right on that throne, Eris Vanserra," you said, your voice steady. You held his gaze for another beat. "You're already your father."

Without another word, you turned and stormed out.

Eris stared at the door long after the echo of your horse’s departure had faded into the distance.

It wasn’t until he could breathe again, until the last traces of your scent settled into his skin, that he quietly sank onto the couch. He wished he could scream, wished he could cry or hurl his furniture around, claw at his face in anguish. But he did not. Because that wasn’t who he was.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

authors note: yeah... they need therapy baby, dare I say this is a betrayal on both ends, lying and putting her down to push her away?? Reader calling him beron… ya… good thing they have years to grow huh

eris week/of our own devices tag list 🫶🏻: @i-know-i-can @scarsandallaz

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound-blog

@melissat1254

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

[toko-nya-mi]

Temperance

Tokoyami has years of experience in controlling Dark Shadow — making sure he doesn't overstep his boundaries, learning how to keep him under wraps until needed. That is, until it comes to you. The poor boy just can't seem to keep him at bay whenever you're around, although maybe that isn't such a bad thing.

When a pebble is dropped into the inky abyss of a lake, it doesn’t sink straight down to the bottom: it floats. The fall is gradual, its descent furthered by the gentle caress of gravity and irresistible call of darkness. He still remembers the first time he fell too quickly into that abyss, the rapid switch from joy into anger, and from anger into regret… into fear. The shrieks as he realized that the long, stretching shadows around him were his own, inhuman claws tearing forwards with a delight so antithetical to what he felt then. A power-drunk monster, spurred forward by not only darkness, but emotion. 

Temperance is a skill that is hard to learn, but it's one that Tokoyami has mastered. He’s never been allowed to indulge in the jolting epiphanies and fiery emotions of his peers. No — graduality has always been a friend to him. Perhaps out of necessity more than anything else, but still, a friend. 

And through his temperance he found some semblance of control over the creature, which only strengthened with time. It’s hard to say when the friendship between Tokoyami and the creature — whom he had affectionately named Dark Shadow, when he was a bit too young to think of anything past the gothic poetry he would read every recess — really formed. But despite the odds, it did. 

Either way, it’s been a long, long time since he’s lost control over Dark Shadow. 

So really, you’ll have to forgive his change in demeanor. 

Tokoyami knows he’s fucked from the moment you walk in. It takes only half a second for his eyes to follow your long strides as you cross the room, and another for his brain to dissolve into a puddle at the sight. The breath catches in his throat, only to be shoved out with a wheeze as the tugging sensation in his chest becomes too much to bear. But instead of being tugged to his feet by some inextricable feeling of love — or whatever it is those gushy romance novels Mina can never seem to stop talking about — he’s instead pulled to his feet by the creature he thought he had control over. Dark Shadow whips forward with a delighted call of your name, casting his book flying and tugging Tokoyami along as though he were little more than a second thought. For a brief moment he’s taken back to his childhood, when his emotions ran rampant and fueled his darker friend with a malicious power. For a second he’s worried that he’ll grow into that terrifying beast once again, but instead Dark Shadow just nudges his head under your palm for a pet, not unlike a dog. He’s sure that if he had a tail, it’d be wagging, too. And all at once, his instinctual fear drops into red hot embarrassment. He sputters, all of his eloquent prose going straight out the window as he stumbles through some combination of “Dark Shadow,” and “contain yourself.” 

“Hello to you too, Dark Shadow,” you laugh, before indulging the shadow with gentle scratches beneath its beak. It makes a contented noise — one that Tokoyami has heard far, far too much lately, and he’s still digging his heels into the floor, as though he’d be able to take back his friend’s little outburst and — 

“Hey, Fumikage,” you smile. Yeah, to say he’s in trouble would be an understatement.

Tokoyami swallows thickly. Such a simple gesture, but his heart hammers away in his chest, his breath taken away at your soft, no, fond grin. He wonders if you know how beautiful you are, if you know how much control you have over him. It's a feeling that, despite the overwhelming embarrassment it brings, he never wants to end. It’s sweet. Pleasant, even. He nervously smooths out his feathers, willing the heat away from his face as he returns your greeting. 

Maybe some emotions don’t need to be tempered, after all. 

[linkedin-offficial]

The evolution of Skypeople and their prolific adaptability

open read more for the rest of the text ! warning, long post (sorry lol :'D)

during the early days of skypeople life in the realms of sky, skypeople were very weak and susceptible to the elements and dangers that the land, not being very suited for habitable life just yet, had brought to them. because of this, they had to begin adapting rapidly as they finally began to settle into their chosen homes and settlements.

for example, those like the well known avians; known for sparking the invention of caped flight and nurturing many of todays bird populations; were a derivative of early skypeople that had begun sprouting feathers, wings, tails, and birdlike legs to better help them in their chosen environments of the clouds and wind paths. meanwhile others, like miners, were large and rugged skypeople that were known for their amazing ability to go long periods of time without a reliable light source; they had adapted not entirely because of their chosen home, but because of their occupation.

this amazing rapid showcase of adaptability allowed for skypeople to flourish and thrive, the populations all across realms booming very quickly, and communities growing with every passing year.

soon however, because of the many technological advances made by the growing expanse of opportunity that was created, machines and great inventions powered by the most skilled of light magic users were becoming the norm. intensely laborious jobs and harsh trekking became a thing of the past.

then, to complete the cycle, due to such advances, skypeople began to de-evolve. because of the great new technology that had now been mastered, there was little need for much physical adaption. so, as time went on, skypeople began losing these unique features, and looking much like the skypeople you may know today as "spirits".

some skypeople did manage to maintain small aspects of their adaptable family genealogy, but this percentage was miniscule in number.

fig 1 . two skypeople of the early settlement age. the earliest of the skypeople were small, frail, and very fragile. early skypeople would easily be mistaken for skychildren in todays age, no matter how old the individual.

fig 2 . two skypeople at the peak of evolution; an avian and a miner. due to the rapid evolution of skypeople, there was barely any inbetween period between the early age and the peak evolution age. diversity was abundant, and it was easy to find individual skypeople built for almost any job. avians, who excelled at flight; miners, who dominated the tough jobs in dangerous areas; and divers, who took to the open seas with ease; just to name a small handful.

fig 3 . after the slow decline of evolution due to technological advances, skypeople began to become even more diverse in nature. it became hard to tell just exactly the lineage of any individual simply by gazing at their features. because of this, masks, capes, and clothing depicting creatures, occupation, or status became incredibly popular. to dress extravagantly and display your lineage namesake was considered normal.

fig 4 . mostly all of the latest skypeople come from this age, all those we now know as "spirits". this age was not as extravagant as the detransition age, but many of the cultures and things learned stuck strong throughout. in this age, it was hard to find any who bore the unique features of the peak evolution age, which only encouraged those who were persistent in maintaining their lineage's namesakes through generations.

[hiddengryffindor]

Wrapped around my finger (Sebastian Sallow x F!MC) WARNING: HARD SMUT

Summary: MC is currently in their seventh year, but during her fifth year, she made the fateful decision to betray Sebastian by turning him in. Now, it appears that he has managed to escape from Azkaban and has returned, seeking revenge. Will he make her pay for her betrayal, or is there another twist in store?

So yeah... I'm jus going to leave this here... Have a nice day <3

This one shot contains: bondage, a little too much of noncon, biting, fingering, p in v sex, spanking, choking, and a very dom sebby, use of the imperious curse for sexual intentions

ALL UNDERAGE CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!

Word count: 10,455

I'm sorry if you see a few mistakes on the writing, English is not my first language

enjoy

Finally, after an extensive period of time, she had achieved mastery over her ancient magic, utilizing it to bring to life things that had once only resided within the confines of her imagination. Occasionally, she would venture to Hogsmeade, offering assistance to fellow witches and wizards in need. Her sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts were occupied with numerous responsibilities, as her professors were well aware of her exceptional abilities, and her classmates held her in high regard. Her proficiency in ancient and fundamental magic far surpassed her years.

The chilly autumn breeze tapped gently on the windows of the Gryffindor tower. It had already grown quite late, well past curfew. She found herself sprawled atop the large couch, positioned in front of the roaring fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Her eyes remained closed, her face serene, while the dancing flames above her silhouette illuminated the room. Despite being the coldest of nights, the Gryffindor common room always exuded a warmth and coziness that she found irresistible. Although she had the option to utilize the Room of Requirement at any time, she couldn't resist the homely embrace of those walls and rugs surrounding her. A book rested upon her chest, rising and falling gently with her calm breaths, as she lay on her back.

Suddenly, her tranquility was disrupted by faint, rapid knocking sounds. She let out a groan and grasped the pillow beneath her head, covering her face with a wearied expression. This was her way of indicating to the prefects and head boys and girls that she desired peace and rest. She was well aware that it was late, but the comfort of the common room couch was too enticing. It was as if the couch would beg her not to depart whenever she attempted to rise, whispering, "Wait! Don't leave me! Let me embrace you a while longer!" A small smirk escaped her lips as she imagined the couch pleading for her company.

However, the knocking sounds persisted, quick and persistent, causing her to realize that this interruption might not be the work of a prefect or another student in the common room. She removed the plush pillow from her face and sought the source of the knocking. A cry from an owl drew her attention to one of the windows, where a black owl with golden eyes peered at her from outside the glass. She narrowed her gaze at the creature and approached the window, her expression marked with confusion.

With a swift flick of her wand, the window opened on its own, and the owl promptly flew into the common room. The girl could sense the bird's relief as its feathers were enveloped by the room's warmth. It perched itself on a small table filled with books and quills, fixing its gaze upon her. As the creature emitted a soft sigh, she noticed a message secured to one of its legs. She carefully took hold of the letter with one hand, while her other hand gently stroked the owl's black feathers. She attempted to open the letter, but it eluded her grasp, evading her every attempt. She let out a sigh, realizing that this was not the time for such games. Surely, it was Everett, attempting to prank her with bewitched letters. She seized the letter once more and directed her wand toward it. "Finite," she whispered, and the letter ceased its struggle against her grip.

Taking a seat beside the owl, she acknowledged that Everett had never employed a black owl to send her anything. In fact, none of her friends had ever done so. This newfound avian acquaintance was entirely unfamiliar to her. She peered at the owl while it groomed its feathers, a smirk appearing on her face. "Who has sent you, little one?" she inquired, receiving a faint howl hoot in response. She fixed her gaze on the letter, sensing a familiar aura and recalling memories from her fifth year.

A sigh escaped her lips as she reminisced about a missing presence among her friends. Sebastian Sallow, the Slytherin boy who had taught her the unforgivable curses, now resided in Azkaban. She and Ominis had made the difficult decision to turn him in—an action that had cost her a friend, someone with immense potential who had succumbed to the allure of dark magic and his own impulsive nature.

The echoes of Sebastian's screams lingered vividly in her mind.

"You both will regret this!" Sebastian's voice reverberated as he struggled against the aurors holding him in place. "I will come back, and I'll make you pay!" he bellowed, his voice strained. Ominis paid him no heed, refusing to even look in his direction. As for her, she locked eyes with Sebastian, witnessing nothing but rage and hatred burning in his brown orbs. "Especially you… I'm going to come back and make you—" Before he could finish his threat, an auror silenced him, and both he and Sebastian vanished from her sight.

She could have shed a few tears, but they never came. She knew that Sebastian's obsession with his research had put his best friend in danger. And considering she had known him for only a few months before he began to push her toward the dark arts…

No, he hadn't forced her into anything.

A gasp escaped her lips as a realization struck her. Throughout all the missions and perilous adventures, she could have said "No," avoiding all the troubles. Sebastian had never coerced her; he had merely extended invitations. It was her insatiable curiosity that had propelled her forward.

Shaking her head, she brushed aside those thoughts. The past was the past, after all. She shifted her focus to the letter and finally opened it. The paper was neat and the handwriting instantly recognizable.

"We must talk right now. Meet me in the Room of Requirement. Sebastian has escaped from Azkaban."

-Ominis

Overwhelmed by the contents of the letter, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity swelled within her. Sebastian's escape from Azkaban was a shocking revelation—one that ignited a cascade of unanswered questions in her mind. Why had he escaped? What did Ominis want to discuss? What role did she have to play in all of this? And why meeting her in the Room of Requirement instead of the Undercroft?

The flickering flames in the fireplace cast dancing shadows across the room, heightening the sense of uncertainty. She glanced at the black owl perched on the table, as if seeking guidance from the enigmatic creature. With a determined nod, she made up her mind. She couldn't ignore the call to action, the opportunity to confront the past and find closure.

Standing up, she gently patted the owl on its feathers before retrieving a cloak from the nearby hook. Wrapping it around herself, she concealed her identity and intentions as she ventured into the castle corridors. Each step carried her closer to the Room of Requirement, her mind racing with anticipation and a touch of trepidation.

The castle was eerily silent as she navigated the hidden passages, her footsteps echoing softly against the cold stone walls. Memories of past encounters with Sebastian flooded her thoughts. The dark arts, forbidden curses, and the inner turmoil he had instigated—each recollection reminded her of the price they had all paid for their choices.

Finally, she reached the seventh-floor corridor and approached the barren stretch of wall concealing the entrance to the Room of Requirement. Taking a deep breath, she focused on her intent, picturing the room she desired—the place where she would meet Ominis.

As if responding to her thoughts, the concealed door materialized before her, revealing the mysterious chamber within. Pushing it open, she stepped into the room. This time, the room manifested as a study, dimly lit with shelves lined with ancient tomes and parchment scrolls.

She gasped, her eyes widening as she took in the room before her. It bore no resemblance to her expectations. Gone was the familiar space she had envisioned, replaced by a chilling darkness that sent shivers down her spine. A sense of unease settled over her, freezing her in place. Before she could react, the door behind her slammed shut and vanished, trapping her inside.

"Ominis?" Her voice trembled with nervous anticipation, reverberating through the empty room. Her footsteps echoed, the only sound in the oppressive silence. In the center of the room stood a solitary table, devoid of any other objects. Her hand instinctively reached for her wand as Ominis' voice remained absent. She felt a surge of relief that she hadn't changed her attire before leaving the common room.

"Everett… Garreth… If this is another prank, I swear I'll unleash Rictusempra on both of you until you beg me to stop," she declared, her tone attempting to sound mature and intimidating. However, her words hung unanswered in the air, intensifying her growing unease. A few seconds passed, and a shiver raced down her spine as she sensed a presence behind her. A soft chuckle filled the room, causing her bravery to waver. She recognized that mocking, raspy voice instantly, even if it had matured over time.

"You…" Her words faltered, barely escaping her lips. "How did you…?"

"Escape?" The voice interjected, cutting her off. "I can't reveal all my secrets now, can I?" A mix of nostalgia and fear washed over her, leaving her frustrated. Finally gathering the courage to face him, she turned around, taking a few steps back, ready for any unforeseen actions. "Sebastian, where is Ominis?" she demanded, her voice laced with a threatening undertone.

Sebastian didn't answer immediately, his gaze locked onto hers. He looked almost the same, albeit taller than the last time she saw him. His expression remained neutral, his hair still disheveled. His unwavering gaze reminded her of the threats he had once made before the Aurors apprehended him.

"He is fine," he stated bluntly, his tone devoid of emotion. Her eyebrow arched in response. Sebastian chuckled, sighing as he shook his head. "I realized his family is punishment enough for him," he continued. She frowned at his words. "Allowing him to live, tortured by his family, is a more fitting fate than ending his misery with a quick death," he added in a cruel, detached tone. Relief washed over her; it seemed Sebastian was unaware that Ominis had reconciled with his family. At least he was safe.

However, she now realized that she herself was in great danger. Trapped alone with Sebastian in the Room of Requirement, which seemed unresponsive to her needs, it became evident that Sebastian's desires held greater sway over the room.

"Go on," he challenged, his arms crossed over his chest, his unwavering gaze fixed on her. There was no hint of a smile or his usual cocky smirk, only an expectant look. "I highly doubt the room listens to you anymore," he finally remarked. She shot him a defiant and enraged glare. "That's not how it works," she retorted. He shrugged, remaining motionless.

She wanted to demand what he wanted from her, but the answer seemed painfully obvious. Instead, she managed to ask, "Are you going to kill me?" Sebastian's expression shifted from neutral to one of intrigue, reminiscent of how he used to look at her during their first Herbology class, when Professor Garlick introduced her. He began to pace the room, his steps measured and deliberate, his eyes locked onto her. "No," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation.

Her relief was short-lived, for it was clear he had more to say. Sebastian retrieved his wand, deftly performing intricate wand movements as he advanced slowly toward her. "I want to torment you," he whispered, his words sending a chill down her spine. "I want to make you weep," he continued, taking another step closer. The room seemed to grow colder with each passing moment. "I want to hear you scream."

She tightened her grip on her wand, her apprehension mounting as Sebastian closed the distance between them. The atmosphere was thick with tension. "Then go ahead," she whispered defiantly, turning to face him with a challenging expression. "If you want to use the Cruciatus Curse on me, go ahead. I won't--"

"But I haven't finished," he interrupted, his voice rising above hers, halting her words in their tracks. "What would Professor Fig say if he knew what a spoiled girl you've become?" His words were laced with anger, but he quickly composed himself. Her fury intensified as he mentioned Professor Fig, as if he knew anything about her conflict with Ranrok.

"Regardless," he continued, his tone returning to its previous calmness, "as I was saying…"

"Expelliarmus!" she screamed, her wand pointed directly at him. In an instant, his grip on his wand weakened, yet it didn't flew off his hand. Sebastian's expression transformed from surprise to serene, a small smirk playing upon his lips as he nodded subtly from side to side. "Are you going to let me finish?"

"Sebastian, you have ten seconds to leave this room, leave Hogwarts, and leave me alone," she yelled at him, her fury drowning out his question. Sebastian leaned against a wall, his body relaxed as he smiled at her. "Or else?" he inquired, his old cocky smirk returning, as if he held the upper hand.

"You may not have the guts to kill me--"

"But I had the guts to turn you in, and I can do it again," she interjected. Sebastian's smirk vanished, his mind seemingly grasping the gravity of the situation. "Indeed… you did," he conceded, his voice now a low, whispered admission.

Sebastian's admission hung in the air, the tension between them palpable. Their eyes locked, each trying to gauge the other's next move. The room seemed to close in on them, amplifying their confrontation.

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over her—anger, fear, and a sliver of doubt. As much as she despised Sebastian, there was a part of her that remembered their shared past, the moments of camaraderie and laughter before everything went awry. But those memories were overshadowed by the darkness that consumed him, the cruelty he had shown. She couldn't let sentimentality cloud her judgment now.

With a resolute expression, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Sebastian, you're walking down a dangerous path," she warned, her voice carrying a mix of concern and determination. "Whatever twisted sense of justice you think you're pursuing, it won't lead you to anything but more pain."

Sebastian's face contorted into a bitter smile. "Pain is what I've come to embrace," he retorted, his voice tinged with a hint of regret. "You have no idea what I've been through, what I've endured." His gaze hardened, reflecting the turmoil within him. "But you will."

A surge of defiance coursed through her veins. She couldn't let him break her spirit, not after everything she had fought for. "I won't be a pawn in your game, Sebastian," she declared firmly, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her.

Sebastian's eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and admiration. A hint of the old spark that used to exist between them seemed to resurface for a brief moment. "Very well," he conceded, a glimmer of respect in his gaze. "Let's see if you're as formidable as they say."

The room crackled with an electric intensity as they circled each other, their wands raised in anticipation. Spells flew through the air, clashing with bursts of vibrant colors, filling the room with flashes of light. Each parry and countermove showcased their skill and determination. It was a battle of wills, a clash of two former allies turned adversaries.

Despite her best efforts, she found herself gradually being pushed on the defensive. Sebastian's prowess was formidable, his every strike precise and calculated. His determination to break her was evident in each spell he cast. She fought back with every ounce of strength she possessed, refusing to yield.

As the intensity of the duel reached its crescendo, a sudden surge of power emanated from Sebastian. His eyes gleamed with a malevolent glint as he unleashed a spell she had never encountered before. A dark energy crackled around him, swirling and twisting like a vortex of shadows.

Time seemed to slow as the spell raced toward her. Instinctively, she tried to conjure a protective shield, but it was too late. The spell struck her with a force that sent her sprawling backward, her body crashing against the cold, unforgiving stone.

Pain seared through her, each nerve screaming in protest. She struggled to regain her footing, her vision swimming with a mixture of pain and determination. Gasping for breath, she glared at Sebastian, her voice barely a whisper. "You… won't… break me."

Sebastian's eyes gleamed with a mixture of triumph and regret. His wand remained pointed at her, his grip unyielding. "We shall see," he hissed, the words carrying a chilling finality.

As darkness closed in on her consciousness, she fought to stay awake, clinging to the last vestiges of her strength. She vowed to herself.

Summoning her inner resolve, she tapped into the depths of her being, drawing upon the ancient magic that flowed through her veins. A surge of raw power emanated from her, swirling around her in a dazzling display of ethereal energy. It crackled and danced with an intensity that even Sebastian couldn't help but be momentarily taken aback.

With a flick of her wrist, she unleashed a torrent of ancient magic toward Sebastian. The force of the spell sent him hurtling backward, crashing into a nearby wall. But as the dust settled, he emerged, his expression twisted with a mixture of fury and determination.

Sebastian gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. He had anticipated her hidden well of power, and he knew he needed to neutralize it if he stood a chance of overpowering her. Drawing upon his own knowledge of dark arts, he began to weave a complex counter-spell, designed to disrupt and freeze the ancient magic coursing through her.

The air crackled with an intense clash of energies as Sebastian's dark counter-spell collided with her ancient magic. Sparks flew, casting an otherworldly glow across the room. She fought with every ounce of strength she possessed, trying to maintain control, but Sebastian's spell was relentless, seeking to bind and suppress her power.

Slowly, inexorably, her ancient magic began to falter. Its vibrant radiance dimmed, flickering like a dying flame. The weight of defeat settled upon her shoulders as she realized her efforts were in vain. Sebastian had found a way to subdue her most potent weapon.

With a surge of desperation, she launched one final, desperate attack, aiming to catch Sebastian off guard. But he was prepared, sidestepping her spell with an almost effortless grace. In that moment, her energy depleted, her defenses shattered, she knew she had been outmatched.

Time seemed to stand still as Sebastian closed in on her, a predatory smile playing on his lips. "You fought well," he sneered, his voice laced with a mixture of triumph and derision. "But in the end, your ancient magic was no match for my cunning."

Her body trembled with exhaustion, her muscles refusing to obey her commands. She tried to summon a defiant retort, but her voice came out as nothing more than a strained whisper. The cold, unforgiving stone floor beneath her became her final resting place as Sebastian stood over her, his victory assured.

As darkness enveloped her, she couldn't help but wonder where it had all gone wrong. How had Sebastian, her once-trusted friend, fallen so far? And what would become of her now, trapped in his clutches?

Her breath caught in her throat as she observed him drawing nearer, the shadows deepening around them. The weight of the situation bore down upon her, suffocating her hopes. Sebastian's countenance remained impassive, a mask of indifference, until a sly grin etched itself upon his face, mirroring the twisted dance of shadows. She passed out.

A surge of consciousness flooded her senses, and her eyes fluttered open. Gone was the comforting embrace of the common room couch, and the cold stone floor of the Room of Requirement. She found herself sprawled upon a table at the heart of the room, its hard surface chilling her to the bone. Her desperate search for her wand was interrupted by a haunting whistle that sliced through the air, directing her attention to Sebastian. He stood a few paces away, toying with her wand, manipulating it with a deftness that mirrored his sinister intentions.

Rising with a mixture of defiance and fury, she longed to confront him, to unleash her pent-up anger with a well-aimed blow. Yet, an insidious force seemed to tether her to the table, an invisible chain constricting her movements. Sebastian's voice, dripping with both amusement and malice, cut through the silence, prodding her discomfort. His gaze lingered upon her attire. Reflexively, she tugged at her shirt, only to discover the metallic links of a chain encircling her waist. Attempting to grasp it, her fingertips passed through the ethereal barrier, the physical and the intangible locked in an unsettling dissonance. "What have you done to me, Sebastian?" she demanded, her voice teetering on the edge of desperation.

Sebastian silenced her with a mere gesture, his voice a hushed admonishment. "Hush now... I merely sought to ensure that you couldn't rely on your ancient magic to extricate yourself from this predicament." Her feet found the ground once more, each step carrying her farther away from him. A profound emptiness settled within her, her magical essence snuffed out like a flickering flame in a gust of wind. The scene played out before her like a cruel mockery, for even if her wand were within reach, it would be an impotent tool against his malevolence.

"Stay away from me," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance. She retreated further, his hand quickly relinquishing its grip on her wand, casting it into the abyssal darkness. "Why bother stifling my magic? The Cruciatus Curse alone would have sufficed to--" Once again, his laughter severed her words, an icy reminder of her powerlessness.

Sebastian's laughter echoed through the room, resonating with a chilling malevolence. It reverberated within her, fueling a mix of frustration and anger that threatened to consume her. She watched him, her eyes burning with a fiery determination despite the shackles that held her magic captive.

"Oh, my dear," Sebastian taunted, his voice laced with wicked delight. "Do you truly think I would rely on such a mundane curse to break you? No, no, I have something much more exquisite in mind." He approached her with a calculated stride, relishing the power he held over her.

Her heart pounded within her chest, a defiant rhythm that matched her unyielding spirit. She knew she had to find another way, a way to outsmart him, to break free from his clutches. Her mind raced, searching for a solution amidst the encroaching darkness.

"You see," he continued, his voice dripping with sinister amusement, "I have spent years studying dark magic, delving into ancient secrets that most wizards fear to touch. And now, my dear, I have discovered a method to suppress even the most formidable of magical abilities."

Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of defiance igniting within her. She refused to accept defeat, even in the face of overwhelming odds. With a surge of determination, she called upon her innate resilience, drawing upon the reservoirs of her ancient magic that remained dormant within her.

As she channeled her energy, a faint glow enveloped her body, like a shimmering shield against the darkness that threatened to consume her. She extended her hand, a torrent of raw power surging forth, aimed directly at Sebastian. But to her dismay, her magic dissipated into thin air before it could reach him, as if swallowed by an unseen force.

Sebastian's laughter intensified, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "Did you truly believe it would be that easy? Did you think your ancient magic could overpower me?" His tone dripped with disdain, reveling in her futile attempt.

Defiance turned to frustration, frustration to desperation. She needed to find a weakness, a flaw in his plan. Her mind raced, piecing together fragments of knowledge, memories of ancient texts and forgotten spells. And then it hit her—a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.

She closed her eyes, shutting out the world around her. Focusing her thoughts, she tapped into the deepest recesses of her being, drawing upon a forgotten incantation whispered by long-lost ancestors. The words formed on her lips, infused with a resolute determination.

The room trembled as her incantation reverberated through the air. A surge of energy pulsed from her, rippling outward in a wave of raw power. The chains that bound her magic quivered, their ethereal hold weakening with each passing moment.

Sebastian's eyes widened in surprise, his smug facade crumbling. He stumbled backward, momentarily disoriented by the force of her counterattack. The tables had turned, if only for a fleeting moment.

Sensing an opportunity, she seized the chance to act. Summoning every ounce of strength and willpower, she lunged forward, aiming to reclaim her wand and regain control over her destiny. But just as her fingertips grazed the hilt, a surge of dark energy emanated from Sebastian.

A wicked smile curled upon his lips as he pointed his wand at her, uttered a single word—a word that held unimaginable power.

"Imperio."

The air grew heavy with malevolence, and an invisible force seized hold of her, forcing her body to freeze in place. Her eyes suddenly now glowing when the spell hit her body, feeling a weird peace embracing her body.

Sebastian let out a frustrated sigh. "Surely, you have many tricks up your sleeve," he said, stopping right behind her. His head was now placed on top of her shoulder, his breathing touching her ear as he spoke. "But I also know a few old tricks."

Meanwhile, in her mind, she couldn't understand how, even under the Imperius curse, she was able to notice everything around her. However, she couldn't control her body anymore, only the warm and threatening breath of Sebastian on her ear. The sensation was too good, yet it felt so wrong. The spell gave her a peaceful sensation, while her conscience made her fear her surroundings. Her body wasn't hers anymore, but at least she still had her mind.

"Look at me," he demanded in a raspy voice. She slowly turned around to see him, her eyes shining with the curse upon herself. Sebastian smiled, but this was different from any other smile he had made before. It was a victorious smile, a dominant one.

"Sebastian," she managed to whisper. He placed a hand on her cheek, slowly rubbing his thumb on her face. She wanted to move away, but she couldn't. "What are you going to do to me?" His expression changed when she asked that question. She couldn't sense his plans now.

"Get back to the table," he demanded, but she fought the spell. Her body insisted on moving. "No," she said, giving the answer she should have given him three years ago on their first adventure. But suddenly, she was caught by Sebastian's hand around her throat, squeezing it just a little. "Get back to the table," he repeated slowly to her. Her body moved towards the table, and she sat on top of it.

She gasped for air as Sebastian let go of her throat, his hand now gently rubbing the spot where he had just held her. "You don't have a choice in this," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

She shook her head, trying to clear the fog from her mind. "I'll never be yours," she spat out, her eyes flashing with defiance.

Sebastian's grip tightened on her arm. "You'll learn to obey me," he said, his eyes glinting with a cruel light. "Or you'll suffer the consequences."

She gritted her teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her afraid. "I'll never obey you," she said, her voice trembling with anger.

Sebastian chuckled darkly. "We'll see about that," he said. "For now, I have other plans for you."

He pushed her down onto the table, her body splayed out before him. She tried to resist, but the imperius curse was too strong. She was powerless to stop him as he began to trace his fingers over her body, starting on her chest and then move slowly down her belly. A cruel smile appeared on his lips.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the sensations, but it was no use. She was trapped, a prisoner in her own body, forced to endure Sebastian's unwanted advances.

He had her trapped, pinned against the table, his arms forming a barricade on either side of her trembling body. She fought to maintain her composure, her legs pressed tightly together, attempting to create a barrier against his advances. But his persistence was unyielding.

Leaning in, he traced a path with his lips, trailing delicate kisses along the warm skin of her neck to her chin. Each touch sent ripples of sensation through her, causing her to writhe involuntarily. His arrogant chuckle reverberated against her now sensitized flesh, stoking the fire of desire within her.

Sebastian, attuned to her body's reactions, swiftly discerned her feeble attempt at resistance. With a knowing smirk, he remedied the situation without the need for his hands. "Spread your legs," he commanded, his voice a velvet rasp against her heck, close to her ear. In response, her traitorous body obeyed, granting him access to the intimate space between her thighs. The room filled with the sounds of their mingled breaths and her whispered whimpers.

"Sebastian…" she pleaded once more, her voice a plea tinged with a mixture of desperation and hope. Her words hung in the air as his fingers traced a tantalizing path along her waist, descending down her leg, making her gasp at his touch. The fabric of her skirt, a cruel accomplice to her misfortune, offered little resistance as his finger tips journeyed toward her bare skin. Each inch of progress elicited a shudder and a sigh from her quivering form.

A feigned concern danced in his eyes as he feigned ignorance to her escalating arousal. "What's the matter?" he inquired, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Is it too overwhelming for you already?" he whispered into her ear, his breath teasing against her delicate lobe. Her breaths grew louder, more ragged. He invoked her name, a calculated maneuver to reclaim her attention. "I asked you a question," he murmured, his thumb grazing her exposed skin with a painfully slow deliberation. She instinctively turned her face away, seeking to evade his proximity, while simultaneously responding to his inquiry with a voice laced with a unique blend of longing and protest. It was a tone that only fueled Sebastian's sadistic pleasure, coaxing a wicked smile to form on his lips.

"I cannot… please," she implored, her voice barely a whisper, laden with a mixture of defiance and desperation. However, Sebastian's unrestrained hand seized her chin, forcing her back into his grasp. "This is my first--," she murmured, her voice tinged with resignation.

His fingers traced up her skin, tantalizingly slow, and then he pulled up the fabric of her skirt. Her heart raced as he reached her thighs. She was so lost in his touch that she didn't even notice him pulling out his wand. His biting and licking on her neck left red marks and bruises, and she couldn't resist the pleasure it brought her.

With a swift motion, the tip of the wand pointed towards her skirt and a ripping sound filled the room, accompanied by a gasp from her as she felt her clothing tearing apart on its own. "Seems your attire won't be much of a defense this time," whispered Sebastian with a sly grin.

He scrutinized her body, his mind contemplating his next move, until his gaze fixated on her eyes. "Do you want to hear something intriguing about the Imperius Curse?" he remarked, his hand gripping her thigh tightly, causing her to flinch from the sudden strength of his grip. "I can make you say whatever I want..." Her cheeks flushed with fear, and a look of apprehension washed over her face. "Wait, Sebastian!" she exclaimed, attempting to raise her voice, knowing he was about to make her speak against her will, but he silenced her by placing his hand over her mouth. "Shhh… there," she whimpered, attempting to pry his hand away from her mouth. "Calm down," he whispered, his tone so intimate and tranquil that it brought tears to her eyes. "I simply want you to look at me and beg for my forgiveness," he demanded, and she looked bewildered. "You know what I'm referring to." He removed his hand from her mouth and then placed it on her cheek.

His other hand began to slip beneath her blouse, but she promptly halted him with her voice. "I'm sorry…" she whispered, causing him to redirect his gaze back to her eyes while his fingers lingered on the warm skin of her stomach. "I'm listening," he stated, still desiring a more sincere apology. "I'm sorry for… betraying you," she whispered, avoiding his gaze. "For what? I didn't hear you," he taunted, resuming his movements. "I'm sorry, Sebastian! I shouldn't have betrayed you!" she shouted, and he abruptly ceased, allowing her to exhale and feel a sense of relief as he withdrew from her. "Good girl," he whispered.

"But you see," he continued, his tone almost conversational, "I don't just want you to say sorry. I want you to mean it. And to show me just how sorry you are."

Her heart rate quickened as she realized the true nature of his intentions. She tried to push him away, to fight back against his advances, but he was too strong. His hand covered her mouth once more, muffling her protests as he leaned in even closer.

"Let me show you what it really means to be sorry," he whispered, his free hand sliding up her blouse and tracing the curves of her body.

She whimpered, feeling trapped and helpless in his grip. But despite her fear and confusion, a small part of her couldn't help but feel a growing sense of excitement at his words. She knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't be enjoying this, but she couldn't help the way her body was responding to his touch.

And as he continued to dominate her, to make her feel things she had never felt before, she knew that she was his. Completely and utterly his, and that there was nothing she could do to resist him.

With a sly grin, Sebastian waved his wand, causing her blouse to rip apart, exposing her bare chest. He took a moment to appreciate the sight before him, relishing in her vulnerability. "Seems you made a poor choice today by not wearing a bra," he murmured in a deep, seductive voice. She didn't resist this time, which intrigued him. "Oh, how I adore it when you cease to run away," he taunted, but she paid no attention, trying to ignore is glare. He rolled his eyes, growing impatient. "Very well, if you insist on playing hard to get…"

He forced her gaze to meet his, their eyes locking intensely. "I would be delighted to hear you beg me to fuck you," he stated, and the curse took hold of her voice, knowing exactly what he desired.

"No…" she began, only to speak again, her voice now laced with desperation, "Please, Sebastian--" Her words were cut short as his fingers traced a path back down her thighs, lingering at the edge of her panties. "Go on, I'm all ears," he prompted, a wicked gleam in his eyes. She attempted to speak, the words barely a whisper, "Do it…" she pleaded, but he feigned ignorance, making her intentions clearer. Slowly, his hands eased her panties down her legs, exposing her most intimate self. "Fuck me…" she uttered, her voice filled with a mix of desire and defiance. "What was that?" he teased, his fingers now tracing along her inner thigh. "Fuck me!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the room. His smile grew wider, relishing in the power he held over her. "How do you want me to fuck you?" he inquired, his voice dripping with anticipation.

"I don't care," she retorted swiftly, her voice filled with urgency as the curse made her be honest. "Just get it over with." He chuckled, finding amusement in her impatience, and his fingers delved into the wetness between her legs, eliciting a sharp intake of breath as she bit her lip to stifle a moan. "I've barely touched you, and you're already a mess," he teased, taking pleasure in her vulnerable state. She glared at him with a mix of desperation and anger, but he merely shook his head with a smile. Using two fingers, he gently parted the lips of her throbbing sex, then began to caress her clit in slow, tantalizing circles, causing her legs to involuntarily close in response.

"Hey, I never gave you permission to close your legs," he commanded, spreading her trembling limbs wide open once again as her pleas and whimpers escaped from her trembling lips. "Stop fighting it..." She ceased her struggling when one of his fingers entered slowly inside her warm insides.

Moans of pleasure escaped her lips in tandem with each thrust of his fingers, a seductive rhythm that drove her wild. His gaze fixated on every nuance of her face, relishing in the symphony of expressions that played upon her features. The sound of his ragged breath tickled her neck, sending shivers down her spine. Each penetration of his fingers elicited a delightful squirm from her, her body surrendering to his skilled touch. Feeling how his finger went in and then out with a painful slow motion, along with the waves of pleasure each time his thumb pressed her clit.

As she attempted to utter words once more, he swiftly silenced her with a cocky smile, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss, surprising her... but she just closed her eyes, the softness of his lips felt even better than the imperious curse. The warmth of their mouths melded together, and through the exchange of breath, soft whimpers escaped, blending with the fervent exchange. While his thumb continued its slow dance upon her sensitive clit, his finger explored the depths of her being with an achingly slow tempo, a tempting tease that heightened her desire. She could feel the mischievous curve of his lips against hers, his teeth gently biting at her lower lip, making her open her open her mouth, letting his tongue meet with hers, all while her head rested upon the cool surface of the table, her tousled hair framing her face in disarray. Aware of her unrestrained arms, a surge of hope surged within her, and she attempted to push him away, but the allure of the curse whispered in her ear, questioning her resistance. The pleasure he bestowed upon her was too intoxicating to deny.

A smirk danced upon his lips as he acknowledged her futile struggle. He paused the kiss, leaning back as a thin thread of saliva was the only thing that connect their mouths "Oh, how could I forget about that?" he remarked, observing her futile attempt to repel him. With a swift motion, he seized her wrists with the hand that had been orchestrating her pleasure, leaving her with a hollow ache as his finger abruptly withdrew. Resistance proved futile as he retrieved his wand, its tip gliding sensually along her leg, grazing her skin with tantalizing precision. From her leg to her waist, the wand traced a path of anticipation, then moved with a delicate shift to her belly, until finally, it pointed directly at her wrists. The words poised to escape his lips were familiar to her, their implications heavy with restraint. His fingers brushed against her wrists, now imbued with the wetness of her arousal, as he whispered, "Incarcerous." In an instant, a rope materialized, skillfully binding her wrists together. He guided her bound wrists to rest behind his head, drawing him closer to her, heightening the intimacy of their connection.

He reclined against the velvety expanse of her collarbone, his lips tracing a trail of fervent kisses along the slopes of her breasts. Her hands clenched the fabric of his shirt collar, her grip desperate yet filled with a longing that mirrored his own. A flicker of mischief danced in his eyes as he dipped his hand between her trembling thighs, fingers grazing the delicate flesh.

With a deliberate slowness, he penetrated her depths with two fingers, luxuriating in the sensation of her slick warmth enveloping him. Each movement was a carefully choreographed symphony of pleasure, orchestrated by the rising cadence of her ragged breaths. He curled his fingers inside her, angling them to elicit a gasp of pleasure, while his thumb caressed her swollen nub with a tantalizing rhythm.

The resounding symphony of her moans reverberated through the room, a testament to the electric current that pulsed between them. He relished the raw power he held over her, each stroke of his fingers evoking a crescendo of desire. Just as her climax drew near, he abruptly ceased his ministrations, savoring the exquisite frustration etched across her face.

A few seconds of maddening stillness hung in the air, teasing the edge of her yearning. And then, like a maestro returning to his opus, he resumed his movements, expertly navigating the contours of her pleasure. With each calculated pause, he reveled in the plea that escaped her lips, an intoxicating melody of need and surrender.

"Why..." she breathed, her voice laced with a mixture of confusion and desire. "Why are you doing this?" Sebastian halted his kisses, his gaze locking with hers, their lips a hair's breadth apart. A mischievous smile played upon his mouth as his warm breath mingled with hers.

"Do you mean why I deny you release before the pinnacle of pleasure, or why we find ourselves entangled in this intricate dance?" His voice was a seductive murmur, an invitation to delve deeper into the realms of their shared desire.

"I... I thought you said you wanted to torment me... to hear me scream," she murmured with innocence, prompting a chuckle from him. "Oh, I do want to torment you," he replied, his fingers delving deeper into her, moving with deliberate grace. "So... so intensely." Her back arched, and a sensual moan escaped her lips, tempting him to take her right then and there. "We're only just beginning," he paused for a few seconds, sensing her imminent climax. "I could prolong your pleasure each time you approach the edge..." His voice barely reached her ears amidst her pleas and whimpers. "But since I'm a gentleman... I'll allow you to choose your torment." Withdrawing his fingers, he moved her wrists away from his neck. Stepping back, she watched him in confusion, only causing her expression quickly transform from uncertain to a mixture of surprise and flustered anticipation as he removed his shirt. Now she beheld the body of the one about to consume her, covered with battle scars and freckles. Sweat already glistened on his skin, causing her to instinctively close her legs once more. She felt too vulnerable, too insignificant, too easily manipulated.

Drawing near, he placed his hand gently on her cheek. His expression evoked a disconcerting sense of wrongness, his desires felt tainted, and she never imagined him like this, not even once... and she was certain he hadn't either. Yet, as his thumb tenderly brushed her cheek with care and attentiveness, she couldn't help but become lost in that mix of ambition and determination reflected in his eyes. His caring countenance abruptly turned cold, reminding her of the reality that she was still ensnared by the imperious curse, still yielding to his will, still trapped with a murderer.

"Turn around and lay yourself on the table," he commanded, and this time her body yielded without resistance, as if under the sway of a new master. "Good girl," his words sent shivers coursing through her entire being. "Since someone is so eager to discover how I shall torment them..." He trailed his hand along the skin of her back, gradually descending. "Let's embark on the enjoyment right away." His hands came to a halt on her buttocks. Swiftly, she discerned what would happen next, snapping out of her trance. She looked over her shoulder, only to see him raising his hand. "S-Sebastian! Wait! Please!" The resounding slap filled the air, accompanied by a sharp gasp, reddening her cheek. "Fuck... you have no idea how much I longed to do this since the day they took me to Azkaban," he whispered, before another slap abruptly cut her off.

The exquisite pain electrified her senses, each contact of his hand against her skin sending tremors through her legs. "Not so powerful now, are you?" he whispered, surprising her with another slap. "Without your precious ancient magic... I wonder where that witch everyone idolizes has gone." His name escaped her lips as the next slap landed on her other cheek. "For here I stand, staring at her... so small... so weak." She bit her lip, suppressing another moan. "So exquisitely obedient," he finally remarked, delivering another slap that resounded in the room, yet she managed to remain silent. He raised an eyebrow, observing her, then smiled. "Ah, so you still put up a fight," he said, striking her once more, but even as her legs trembled, she refused to make a sound. "Even if I can't fight..." She whispered, turning her gaze to him. "I won't let you have me so easily, Sebastian

"Very well," he responded calmly. Then, his gaze shifted to her tightly closed legs, and a slow chuckle escaped him. "I'm starting to think you enjoy having me command you to open your legs." Her cheeks flushed as the imperious curse obeyed Sebastian's desire. Merlin's beard, she couldn't fathom why she felt even more nervous now. Despite already being penetrated and slapped, this position, presenting her red and sore cheeks to him, felt unbearably intimate. She sensed him lean closer between her spread legs once again, and instinctively, her gaze met his. However, he seized her hair and forced her face away, towards the wall in front of her, pressing her head against the wooden table. His other hand gradually moved from her legs to her inner thigh, discovering her profound wetness, with her juices starting to trickle down her trembling limbs. "Oh, darling... Are you that desperate for me to claim your virginity?" Her gasp at his words elicited a lip-biting response from him. Now in such close proximity to her body, she startled slightly as she felt something hard pressing against her throbbing center. Her heartbeat quickened as the sound of something unzipping reached her ears.

"Do you recall when I granted you the choice of your torment?" His voice resonated with a deep, urgent rasp. It was clear that a mere nod wouldn't satisfy him; he needed to hear her answer. And so, she nodded, seeking that intoxicating sense of pain, and it was delivered. His palm collided with her already tender skin, and this time, she didn't suppress her moan. "Oh, my..." Genuine surprise laced his tone. "Seems someone has embraced her rightful place... What prompted such a swift change of heart?"

She attributed it to the imperious curse—or at least, that's what she tried to convince herself. Deep down, both she and he knew that the curse had become superfluous; her body and mind had willingly surrendered to him. But she fought, not to liberate herself from this predicament, but rather because the sensation of him exerting control over her, dictating her every action, felt exquisitely intense. "Regardless," he continued, his victory evident in his smile. "As I was saying... I'll grant you the choice. Shall I continue denying your orgasms until you climax on my cock?—" He paused, his hands exploring her form, squeezing her breasts, teasing her nipples. "Or are you eager to discover how many times I can make you come?" He whispered into her ear. Her breaths echoed throughout the room as he awaited her response, her embarrassment palpable. But the imperious curse quelled her hesitation. "Well? I'm waiting... Or would you like to experience both scenarios?" Sebastian chuckled as the curse compelled her to vocalize her inner thoughts. "I... desire to witness how many times you can make me come... I need you to fuck me, Sebastian."

Magic truly was a wondrous thing. Her candid words slipped effortlessly from her lips, despite her attempt to conceal her flushed embarrassment. He required no further encouragement. She gasped when, this time, three of his fingers slowly entered her, the warmth of her depths meeting his touch once more, offering a mixture of painful relief and utter satisfaction. She bit her lip as he skillfully guided his fingers in and out of her wetness. She yearned to gaze into his eyes, but he forced her to avert her gaze, pressing her head against the table. Her moans intensified as his movements quickened and delved deeper. "Merlin... If only I could listen to those sounds every day..." He whispered, intoxicated by the symphony of her pleasure.

She surrendered herself completely, her eyes shut tight, her lips brushing against the table's surface. Sebastian had found the perfect rhythm, his fingers hitting that sweet spot deep inside her. A fervent desire coursed through her, urging her to break free from the confines of the rope binding her wrists. She longed to feel his touch, to grasp him, to witness the emotions playing across his face at this very moment.

"Please... Sebastian," she pleaded, her words catching his attention. But he didn't cease his thrusts; instead, he intensified his movements, pushing her further towards the edge. "Sebastian..." she called again, yet he delivered another forceful thrust, denying her plea. His voice carried a frigid edge, laced with a hint of mercy. She swallowed, gathering her courage, before she could beg him to grant her a glimpse of his expression. 

But as she spoke, a searing heat began to radiate from the depths of her womb, spreading downward between her legs. She grew closer to the peak of pleasure, her walls constricting around Sebastian's fingers. Her moans betrayed her, inflating Sebastian's ego. He turned her face to meet his gaze, delicately brushing away strands of hair that clung to her damp skin. He sought to capture every nuance of her expression in this pivotal moment. He didn't need to ask if she was nearing her climax; he could feel it, and she herself felt an unusual sensation, a mix of bliss and urgency that compelled her to act.

In the next few seconds, her moans filled the room, a symphony of ecstasy mingled with her desperate pleas. "I... I can't," she gasped, her voice fraught with a strange unease. "Sebastian, something feels off... wait, please," she implored, her words teetering on the edge of an admission she could no longer hold back. "I think I need to...," she trailed off, interrupted by Sebastian's hand placed firmly over her mouth, a sly smirk adorning his face. "Now, now... just let go," he coaxed, his voice coaxing her body to surrender completely. "Come for me... I want to hear you, every raw, uninhibited sound," he whispered, his encouragement fueling her release.

Her body quivered uncontrollably as waves of pleasure washed over her, flooding her senses. Her whimpering cries subsided, giving way to a deep, soulful release that consumed her entirely. She felt the warmth spreading, drenching her thighs and legs. Sebastian merely chuckled, withdrawing his fingers, while she struggled to steady her breath, her gaze averted from his penetrating gaze. 

"I must admit... I anticipated you would derive pleasure from this encounter, but I never expected such a fervent response," he remarked, a smug smile gracing his lips as she turned her attention away, unable to meet his gaze.

Just as she felt the rekindling of energy coursing through her body, Sebastian seized her by the waist and forcefully pulled her closer to him. This was far from over, and deep down, she knew it. After all, she had implored him to continue making her succumb to waves of pleasure, and he wasn't one to trifle with such requests. The next few minutes unfolded like a tantalizing dance between ecstasy and torment. He skillfully teased her most sensitive regions, coaxing one orgasm after another, each release more exquisite than the last.

While her senses soared on the wings of pleasure, Sebastian himself held back, grappling with the torment of his throbbing desire. He yearned to savor her completely, to claim her in a way that transcended the realms of mere physicality. As she lay there, breathless and drenched in perspiration, he pondered the threshold of their shared passion.

"I can't take it any longer!," she pleaded with Sebastian, her voice heavy with a mixture of exhaustion and longing. Yet, her words fell upon deaf ears as he seized her once again, defying her pleas, and positioned her atop the table, her back pressed against the unyielding wood.

At this point, even her ancient magic stirred, a feeble attempt to aid its wielder, but the ethereal chain encircling her waist rendered her powerless, its cold touch a constant reminder of her captivity. "I regret to hear your distress," Sebastian retorted, his eyes gleaming with a blend of mischief and revenge. With a flick of his wand, he revealed his intentions. "But my retribution is far from complete, and you shall endure it," he declared, his gaze fixed upon her womb. He pressed the tip of his wand against her, uttering an incantation too faint for her ears to discern.

Suddenly, an electrifying surge of warmth coursed through her, leaving her trembling and apprehensive. Fear etched across her face as she scrutinized Sebastian's wand. "What have you done to me?" she demanded, her voice trembling with a mixture of anxiety and anger. "You will see," he responded swiftly, forcibly turning her back around to face the table's surface once more.

With a tantalizing display of dominance, Sebastian allowed his pants to slide down his legs, revealing his hardened desire. In a wicked twist of fate, her legs parted eagerly, as if driven by an unseen force, drawing a chuckle from his lips. She remained blind to his actions, her senses heightened with anticipation, until she felt an unfamiliar presence at the apex of her thighs. It was neither his fingers nor his tongue that greeted her, but a pulsating intensity that left her breathless.

A surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins as Sebastian plunged his cock deep inside her, igniting a symphony of pleasure and pain that erupted in a fervent cry of his name. He held her head firmly against the table, keeping her at his mercy, while tears cascaded down her cheeks. His feigned concern was laced with sadistic amusement as he inquired, "Is it too much for you?" Yet, despite the overwhelming sensation, she managed to summon a whispered confession, "It's too big." Sebastian's smirk deepened, savoring the power he held over her vulnerability.

Part of him yearned to prolong the exquisite torment, to revel in her quivering need, but the hunger for fulfillment drove him forward. With deliberate, agonizing slowness, he began to move, each thrust a calculated symphony of pleasure and discomfort. His groans mingled with her intoxicating moans, their union a testament to the intoxicating blend of pain and pleasure. The tightness of her walls constricted around him, intensifying his own primal urges, urging him to push deeper, to claim her completely.

The room became a sanctuary of their forbidden desires, as Sebastian reveled in the sweetest symphony he had ever heard—her melodic moans. Triumph surged through his veins, knowing he was the first to possess her, and he intended to be the last. His teeth sank into his lower lip, suppressing the primal urges that threatened to consume him entirely. Each thrust of his hips became a declaration of dominance.

Every thrust sent delicious shivers coursing through her body, causing her to writhe with pleasure. In a moment of astonishment, she realized her wrists were no longer bound. Sebastian hastily broke the spell of the rope, urgently spinning her around until her back once again met the table. Her legs found their place on his shoulders as he continued his relentless penetration. Leaning in, he captured her lips with a hunger that mirrored their shared desire, and she surrendered to the intoxication of their kiss, her arms finding solace around his neck.

An exquisite ache reverberated through her as the tip of his cock grazed a tender spot, and in response, she raked her nails along his back, a feeble attempt to temper the explosive pleasure that consumed her. One of his hands tenderly caressed her face before descending to her breasts. Despite the stark contrast in their size and strength, the intimacy they shared felt nothing short of heavenly.

Amidst Sebastian's groans resonating in her ears, an unintended confession slipped from her lips. "I love you." The sudden halt in his movements sparked an uneasy sensation within her, as if she had crossed a forbidden boundary. "I... I'm sorry," she stammered, her body silently pleading for him to resume their passionate connection. "Say it again," Sebastian whispered, resuming his thrusts with renewed fervor, eliciting moans of pleasure from her lips. "Go on," he urged, his whispers dripping with temptation. "I love you," she repeated, her breathing growing labored as waves of pleasure washed over her. To her surprise, Sebastian savored her declaration, relishing in the raw vulnerability she displayed. "Tell me more," he entreated, his warm breath caressing her ear. "Please... let me hear you." His tone held a mixture of longing and sadness. Biting her lip, she obliged, her voice trembling, "I missed you... so much."

In that moment, he seemed to possess an intimate understanding of her desires, effortlessly guiding her deeper into the indescribable realm of lust that coursed through her veins. "I needed you so bad," Sebastian confessed, prompting her to hold him even tighter, desperate to bridge the distance between them. "I know," she whispered in response, their words forging an unbreakable bond. Suddenly, the scorching heat intensified, signaling her impending release, and Sebastian was keenly aware of it. With each thrust, he pushed himself deeper, but her hand on his chest implored him to ease his pace.

"Sebastian... we must stop," she uttered, her voice laced with a mixture of urgency and yearning. He sighed, his gaze fixed on her, exhaustion and hurt etched upon his features. "Why?" he queried, the tone betraying a sense of weariness. "Because... you," she began, her words interrupted by a moan as she struggled to compose herself. "I'll be pregnant..." Her words, tinged with embarrassment, ignited a chuckle from Sebastian, his favorite sound to hear. "What spell did you think I casted on your womb?" he inquired, expecting her to comprehend the implications. And comprehend she did, her cheeks flushing crimson as she nodded in acknowledgment. "You're too adorable, you know?" he whispered, his voice betraying traces of fatigue. "Now, just let go," he nibbled on her ear. "I yearn to fill you with my seed."

Unable to hold back any longer, she succumbed to the tantalizing torture that had built within her, a moan escaping her lips. It wasn't solely the sensation of her release that overtook her, but also the feeling of Sebastian's seeds surging inside her, flooding her with an overwhelming mixture of pleasure and satisfaction. Her entire body trembled as the hot, sticky essence filled her depths, her voice intertwining with his name in a symphony of bliss. In the throes of their mutual climax, Sebastian groaned, succumbing to the torments of his own pleasure.

As their bodies slowly recovered from their ecstatic union, they remained locked in an intimate embrace, their breathing gradually returning to a calm rhythm. The world around them faded into the background, their connection an oasis of shared vulnerability and desire. With whispered words of tenderness and the lingering warmth of their union, they reveled in the aftermath of their passion. As the waves of pleasure subsided, fatigue swept over her like a gentle lullaby. With a contented sigh, she nestled into Sebastian's arms, her eyelids growing heavy as sleep beckoned her. He held her close, his touch tender and protective, his fingers gently caressing her skin. The exhaustion from their intense encounter took its toll, and soon she succumbed to the sweet embrace of slumber.

Hours passed in blissful silence, their intertwined forms finding solace in the peaceful stillness of the night. Sebastian watched over her, his gaze filled with adoration and a touch of concern. He brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, his fingers tracing the delicate contours of her features, cherishing the serenity that now enveloped her.

As the first rays of dawn peeked through the window, gentle warmth danced upon her face, coaxing her back to consciousness. She slowly blinked her eyes open, her senses gradually awakening to the familiar surroundings. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, she found herself lying on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, just as she had before the arrival of the black owl.

A soft smile curved her lips as memories of the previous night flooded her mind. She turned her head to find Sebastian sitting nearby, his eyes fixed on her with a mix of affection and relief. He had remained faithfully by her side, watching over her as she slumbered, ensuring her safety and comfort.

"Good morning," he whispered, his voice a gentle caress in the tranquil space. "How do you feel?"

Her response came as a languid stretch, her body still tingling from their passionate encounter. "Sore, but in the best possible way," she replied, her voice laced with a hint of confusion. "How did you--" She wanted to know how he managed to took her back into the Gryffindor common room, but she quickly noticed the current situation.

Sebastian chuckled, the sound carrying a mix of tenderness and amusement. "I'm glad to hear that. I was worried I may have been a bit too... intense." Then he saw how the morning was touching the common room. "Don't worry, I will leave soon"

She sat up, her eyes meeting his, filled with genuine worry... Yet she knew he hand all under control "You were perfect, Sebastian. More than I could have ever imagined." It was difficult for her to speak the truth after being soo long under he imperious curse.

A warm glow suffused his features, and he reached out to gently brush his fingers against her cheek. "You mean the world to me, you know that, right?" Her expression changed to a confused one.

"But I though you hated me" She whispered as her hand touched his. He chuckled and sighted. "I did... but then I started to understand I crossed a line... after I taught you crucio, after I manipulated you and Ominis to look the cure for Anne... after I killed my uncle" Her heart swelled with affection, a sense of belonging washing over her. "Everyone misses you... Even Ominis" she whispered, her voice brimming with emotion.

Sebastian leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, a testament to the connection they had forged. As they pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling.

"Rest now," he murmured. "We have a lifetime of adventures ahead of us."

With a contented sigh, she nestled back into his embrace, her head resting against his chest. As she closed her eyes, she knew she was safe and loved, and in Sebastian's arms, she had found her sanctuary. Together, they drifted into a peaceful slumber, ready to face whatever the future held, united in their love and the magic they shared.

[facts-i-just-made-up]

*smacks your door open like Shrek* FACTS ABOUT VULTURES, BRO?

A… VULTURE is a raptor across the world adapted to feed on diverse creatures once dead. They can snack on carrion pausing from aviation to shine as pinnacle symbols of dread.

Well, these birds barf acid and they digest rapid, Circling a carcass even 'fore it goes flaccid. But some will kill lambs just to eat their bones, they scoop 'em up live and they drop 'em on stones.

Some have bald heads, some fly in fleets, Some cool off by pissing on their feet. Their stomach acid kills most disease, As digitigrades they have funky knees.

Condor- That's a Vulture, They're endangered, must breed. Bearded- That's a Vulture, They digest bones to feed. There's species in new world and old, They have feathers to protect from the cold.

In some legends, they can play the grim reaper. Then in others, they can be your soul's keeper. To Aztecs they meant rejuvenation, In the Ramayana one had earned much veneration. Some can use tools like rocks to break shells, some can hunt well only using just smell, some will dye their feathers with red blood, without them most ecologies would go thud.

Turkey- That's a Vulture, Turkey Vultures, I mean. Buzzard- That's a Vulture, They're endemic to Crete. A feeding group is called a "wake," then when they're in flight, a "kettle" they make.

(Musical interlude and wet Vulture eating sounds sample)

Hooded- That's a Vulture, They can nest in palm trees. Griffon- That's a Vulture, They're big on Halloween. Dress as vultures to impress your friends, They'll all miss the bird jokes when holidays end…

Some vultures lack notes- There's no organ in their throats that can make a chirp or caw or a squeak. But, if they were to quote, they would probly rather eat a goat, that was already minced for their beak.

So, that's a vulture, that's their avian culture. Immortalized in paintings and immortalized in sculpture. They're pretty cool birds and they sure look neat, especially when dripping with rotting meat. So help conserve and leave them be, and adore them if they're in a tree. Accipitridae or Cathartidae, Enjoy them all and look at them fly!

White-Rump, that's a Vulture, it is named for its butt. Palm-nut, that's a Vulture, it can feed on mollusks. So that's all about this fine bird. Go and fact check everything that you've just heard. Yes, that's all about this great bird. No go write about them, you absolute nerd.

[delimeful]

just a little rush (3)

warnings: g/t, captivity, self sacrifice, injury/gore mention, fear

-

Janus still hadn’t been entirely sure what exactly he was looking for when he began picking the lock to the office of one of the richest men in town.

Logan hadn’t been very helpful in that regard, only able to echo the vague descriptions he himself had been given over the phone: small, delicate, and feathered.

“Oh goody, that’s only about every passerine in existence,” Janus had snarked at the time, but a lack of specifics wasn’t going to stop them from getting the unfortunate animals out by any means necessary.

They had to be a social breed, too, going by the sounds of things, which bumped the urgency up a little further. Improper conditions and careless owners were bad enough, but for most domesticated birds, if one of a bonded pair died, the other was almost sure to follow.

That wasn’t even getting into the more exotic species. Janus was still hanging on to the slim hope that they wouldn’t be anything too wild, and thus much easier to rehome and rehabilitate without breaking any laws.

Well. Any more laws.

The door’s lock finally twisted under his lock picks, and Janus swung the door open smoothly, appreciating the silent glide of well-maintained, squeak-free hinges. Ah, rich people.

He made sure to close the door quickly behind himself, both for appearances and noise concealment. There was a good chance that whatever birds these two were, they would kick up a fuss at the entrance of a stranger, especially considering the fact that ‘frequent disturbances’ from the animals was the alleged reason Logan’s veterinary clinic had been contacted in the first place.

All living creatures made noise and had needs; even a preschooler could grasp that much. The fact that this grown man had been asking about the costs of invasive and debilitating surgical procedures before considering any alternatives or even telling them anything about the situation was sickening, and more than enough for Janus to agree to a heist riskier than their usual fare.

The room remained shockingly quiet as he crept forward, enough so that he began to wonder if their information wasn’t accurate after all, or if the birds had been very recently moved. Janus could only hope that nothing unspeakable had been done to them in the few days since the call.

Then, finally— a sound. The barest ruffle of feathers against each other, small in a way that meant they likely were dealing with something passerine-sized, which made things easier in a lot of ways.

Janus turned towards the sound, scouring the shadows of the unlit room with narrowed eyes until he found the silhouette of a birdcage. Finally.

He slipped a few trinkets off the shelves as he approached, despite knowing it would earn him Logan’s disapproval. The more they took, the longer they’d be pursued, after all. Still, he couldn’t resist.

The cage was still extremely quiet as he got closer, though he thought he could almost make out tiny, rapid breathing. He carefully checked the angle of the nearby window before pulling a small portable lantern from his belt and flicking its bulb on.

“Let’s see what we’re working with this time,” he mused lowly to himself, and lifted the lantern up to illuminate the inside of the enclosure.

The first thing he noticed was that calling it an enclosure was an insult to properly maintained terrariums everywhere. He’d seen children’s goldfish bowls with better enrichment in them than the nearly barren space within the birdcage. No perches, no chewable toys, no well-sheltered places to hide away…

No places to hide at all, really, which meant that he spotted the bundle of feathers fluffed up on the cage floor in the very next second.

The shape of it was odd, a pair of mantled wings displayed from the back, with odd shadows and disheveled feathers making it difficult to tell where the wings ended and the bird’s body began. They were trembling with strain, so he at least knew that the little creature was still alive.

“Hey there, little guy,” he crooned, setting the lantern next to the cage on the high display table and inspecting the thin wire door. “Give me just a moment, and we’ll get you somewhere much more comfortable, alright?”

For such a simple birdcage. there were a shocking number of locks worked into the latch and surrounding bars of the door. Janus felt a little impressed despite himself, poking at each extra layer of security curiously. “A bit of an escape artist, are you? Quiet or not, I’m sure you’ll be quite a handful.”

The sound of a very small, shuddering inhale split the air, and Janus’s hands went still.

Slowly, he shifted his gaze back to the bundle of feathers, which had grown even pricklier.

He’d heard parrots, ravens, and cockatoos alike imitate human voices, sometimes uncannily well, but he’d never heard them imitate a sob before. Was he imagining things?

There were different colored feathers mixed in, he realized, looking closer. Almost as though one bird had crowded in and attempted to completely cover the other with its wings.

And there was still something about that tangled silhouette that was wrong, for a bird…

More hurriedly now, he twisted the locking mechanisms open one after the other, and finally swung the cage door open. The gap was wide enough for a bird with a wingspan that size to dart through if they were quick about it, but it didn’t seem to be enough to tempt the little guy into moving.

In fact, the only sign that his presence had been noted at all were the progressively more and more ruffled feathers of the wings before him. The birds didn’t seem particularly reactive to a clear intrusion, which was honestly a bit worrying.

Making sure his gloves were concealing every bit of skin— it wouldn’t do to leave even a shred of evidence behind, after all— Janus slid an arm inside the cage and reached for the bird.

With a guttural hiss, the wings flared wider, and the very-much-not-a-bird twisted around to screech at him, lunging forward.

Only years of experience kept Janus from yanking his arm back out the door roughly with a plethora of swears, and even with that experience, he couldn’t stop his automatic jolt and the subsequent rushing of blood in his ears. The sudden flush of adrenaline made him feel a bit faint.

Or maybe he felt a bit faint because the creature before him was absolutely, positively, most certainly not a bird.

Illuminated shallowly by the lantern’s sickly greenish glow, a miniature person stood like an undersized angel, wings spread out in the air behind them in implied threat.

“Get any closer and I’ll scoop your eyes out with a rusty spoon!” the tiny being called out in a nasally tone, adding a very blatant threat to match the implied one. A threat Janus suspected was a complete bluff, seeing as they didn’t seem to even have a way to reach his eyes at the moment, let alone a spoon to execute the promised attack with.

Still, that was no reason to frighten the creature any further. He’d read far too much about small animals and the risks that shock from improper human handling could cause, and the last thing he wanted was to accidentally make anyone keel over. If he could offer such courtesy to birds, he would certainly offer it to the impossibly small person standing rigidly before him.

(He felt a bit like descending into shock, himself, but he was far too professional to succumb in the middle of a high-stakes operation such as this one. No matter how tempting it was.)

He eased back a step, slowly withdrawing his hand until it could rest more casually on the doorway of the cage. “Well, there’s no need for that. I’ve found I rather like my eyes where they are.”

“Great!” The winged person bared tiny teeth at him, not relaxing an inch even as Janus did what he could to keep from looming. “Leave us the fuck alone, and I won’t tear ‘em out and stuff them up your—!”

There was a nervous keen from behind the winged person, and they cut off mid-vulgarity to shift to the side slightly, angling their wings to keep covering whatever was behind them.

Or, if Janus was correct, whoever was behind them. ‘Leave us alone,’ they’d said.

“Is your friend alright?” he asked, earning himself both a glare and the sort of high-pitched warning whistle he normally heard just before a bird started biting hard enough to draw blood. “Please. If I wanted to hurt you, don’t you think I’d have done so by now?”

The winged person scoffed, teeth still bared in a snarl that curled up at the edges, almost resembling a manic grin. “I don’t pretend to know when humans next want to hurt us or why,” they replied, words sharp as razor wire. “If you’re really feeling all kind-hearted and generous, howsabout leaving that door open and ditching this place without any living, breathing prizes? We’ll take care of the rest.”

Their tone was scornful, disbelieving that Janus could be here to do anything except take advantage of them, and looking at their current situation, he couldn’t even begin to blame them. Living in a featureless cage would have been detrimental enough for an actual bird. For a person? It was dehumanizing, isolating, tantamount to torture.

He had his suspicions, however, about the condition of the other one in there with them. They would be easy enough to confirm or deny by simply reaching in and moving the vicious one aside, but that sort of maneuver wouldn’t get him anywhere in terms of earning their trust.

Instead, he withdrew his hand completely, leaving a blank square of empty space in the doorway, ripe for escaping through. “Of course. If that’s all you need, I’m happy to oblige.”

Upping the stakes on this little gamble, Janus moved to the nearby window and shifted the window sash up along its frame, allowing cool air to billow into the room. Luckily, it seemed this one didn’t have a screen on the outside, so their theoretical way out was entirely unimpeded— so long as they were both in fit condition to fly.

The silence in the room stretched, thick with tension, and then a different voice piped up, just as small and considerably less harsh.

“If it isn’t too much trouble, could you also cut through the restraint?” the new voice asked, polite and friendly enough that Janus almost missed the tremulous note to it. “Two heads may be better than one, but four wings tend to get tangled up!”

“Patton—!” the first person hissed, only to fall quiet when Janus crossed the room to return to the cage.

They were still trying to conceal the existence of the other winged person, but it was mostly unsuccessful now that ‘Patton’ wasn’t cooperating.

Janus could make out the two different forms, now, and the thin, durable cord that connected the cuffs on their ankles. One cuff per person, chaining the two of them together.

He was surprised that they’d chosen to reveal the vulnerability— surely in such desperate times, they could manage to coordinate well enough to get away?— but obviously didn’t begrudge them the request.

Except the moment he shifted forward with a pair of wirecutters in hand, the first one puffed up even more aggressively, blocking the way.

“Nope, actually, that’s not happening,” they spat, faux-glib.

“Remus,” Patton protested, only to get lightly buffeted by a wing before they could complete the rest of their complaint.

‘Remus’ shrugged, an attempt at casual when they still looked ready to start mauling him at any moment. “Sorry, Sunshine! It turns out that where you go, I go! That includes abductions by random, well-dressed thieves, so sad, what can you do!”

“You can get out,” Patton retorted. “I’ll be fine, okay, so just let the human cut—,”

“SO SAD, NOTHING TO BE DONE,” Remus repeated over them loudly, before twisting to face Janus fully and finally letting their wings draw back in slightly from their overextended posture. The relaxation looked forced, a lesser of two evils. “Whatever you want us for, looks like you got a two-for-one deal, Jack and the Beanstalker! Better act fast before time runs out!”

Janus blinked, shifting his gaze between the two of them contemplatively, and then decided that whatever misconceptions they were inventing for him would take far too long to unravel at the moment.

Though his wings were tucked too tightly against their back to tell exactly how, Patton was clearly injured in some way, unable to fly, and Remus was equally clearly unwilling to abandon them. Just like actual songbirds, they would be in serious danger from wild animals if left grounded, so even if the injury wasn't debilitating, he couldn’t simply release them and be on his way. They needed help, which was exactly what Janus had come to offer.

And truth be told, he was still deeply curious about these two. Might as well kill two birds with one— hm. Better not to use that particular metaphor for this situation, now that he thought about it.

“If you insist,” he said, and reached for the collapsible bird transport container at his side before pausing. They weren’t actual birds, but he didn’t exactly have the luxury of a less humiliating method of travel on hand.

He was also running out of time. As unfortunate as it was, this would have to do. There would be plenty of time for explanations later.

”Excuse my reach,” he muttered out of habit as he leaned against the cage and held his hand out.

The two had automatically flinched back from a human hand in a way that made him feel ill and furious in equal measures, so he carefully reached forward and scooped the closer of the two into his gloved grasp the way he would have with an actual bird, gentle but firm.

It was Remus, and their body twitched in a way that made Janus suspect they were barely resisting the urge to inflict bodily harm on him, but they managed to limit themself to a narrow-eyed glare and an unhappy churr from deep in their chest.

He’d worried about the restraint connecting the two— he could only fit one arm through the cage door at a time, so he couldn’t exactly grab both of them— but the issue was neatly resolved by Patton immediately clambering onto his hand after Remus, reaching out and clinging to their friend’s arm like they feared they’d be torn away from each other at any minute.

Making sure to move slowly and not unbalance them, Janus withdrew his arm and two passengers from the cage, lowering them down to the display table where the carrying case waited. The two went tense in his grasp, but he made no move other than to relax his fingers into a flat surface, releasing the majority of his grip.

“I would offer to hold you all the way out, but I’m afraid I’ll need my hands free,” he said after a still moment, and this was enough to prompt them into motion.

Patton tugged at Remus’s shoulder, whispering rapidly at them about things Janus pretended not to hear, but the effort went nowhere. Remus marched into the transport case with only the ruffled feathers on their back giving away any sense of unease, and despite the agonized glance they sent toward the open window, Patton was only a half-step behind them. They huddled down in the far corner of the case, digging their fingers into the mesh like they expected it to be a harsh ride.

Discomfited, Janus zipped the entry up only most of the way and left the zippers unlocked. For someone who had been breaking through all those locks on the cage, the barrier was less than nothing, but it still didn’t feel like enough.

He knew why: Whatever attachment was keeping the two of them trapped in place now was far less tangible than any physical lock, and far more binding. Janus may not have been the one to create the trap, but he was utilizing it now, whether he liked it or not.

"Alright. I'm moving now." With careful hands, he lifted the case into the crook of one arm and strapped the lantern back onto his belt, turning towards their exit and wanting nothing more than to leave this stagnant room behind.

Hopefully, once he proved his intentions weren’t malicious, they would let him and Logan help. Hopefully, they would be able to fix whatever that monster had done.

For now, he would at least do what he knew he could, and get them far, far away from that miserable cage.

[happybird16]

•Chapter Ten•

Naga!Levi Ackerman/Fem!Reader

Summary: Growing up, the forest's edge always darkened the far corner of your small village. The giant, twisted branches overhead rendered the forest floor a terrifying, pitch black. You shouldn't be here. There's creatures here, dangerous ones.

Overall warnings: Past references to child abuse, blood, scars, gore, mystery, eventual sex, inhuman genitalia (Levi is a snake man), horror vibes.

Chapter warnings: NSFW!!!, Sex, inhuman genitalia, oral sex (fem!receiving), tongue-fucking, creampie, monsterfucking, tail-fucking, knotting, a lot of cum.

Chapter length: 12.5k

Ao3 Link

The most special of shoutouts to my beloved friend and beta @theferricfox!!!! Also, credit to @the-milk-anon for the snake banner!!

Note: Fun-fact I wrote this smut while listening to serial killer podcasts

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This time, the warm weather lingers. Spring bursts forth in a whirlwind of balmy temperatures, announcing its arrival with an exuberant chorus of chittering birds. The once-dormant landscape awakens with renewed energy as nature's vibrant palette comes alive, painting the world in hues of fresh green, delicate blossoms, and lively blooms. A gentle breeze carries the scent of blooming flowers, intermingling with the invigorating fragrance of earth and dew-kissed grass. With each passing day, the embrace of spring deepens.

The last of the snow melts over the course of three days, revealing a forest floor coated with half- decayed leaves and broken branches. The underbrush, once concealed beneath the snow’s frozen grasp, awakens with newfound vitality. Small bushes begin to sprout tender leaves, eager to soak in the warm sunlight. Alongside them, quickly blooming ferns unfurl their delicate fronds, adding touches of verdant green to the evolving scenery. These resilient plants find their place amidst the forest floor, spread intermittently in the few spots of light that manage to penetrate the forest’s dark canopy.

Amidst the lush forest floor, a vibrant sight catches the eye—a bright red cardinal gracefully hopping about, its movements brimming with energy and enthusiasm. With each nimble hop, it explores the underbrush, its beak pecking with eager curiosity. Standing in the narrow path of sunlight, the cardinal’s scarlet plumage stands out vividly against the backdrop of green foliage, like a flickering flame amidst the verdant tapestry of nature.

Its beady black eyes sparkle with a sense of purpose, scanning the ground for hidden treasures or delectable morsels concealed beneath fallen leaves and twigs. Its slender, pointed beak skillfully probes the earth, unearthing small insects or seeds that serve as its sustenance.

A stick snaps loudly beneath your foot, causing the bird's head to jerk in your direction. Sensing your presence, the bright red cardinal abruptly halts its delightful foraging and squawks loudly at your proximity. In a split second, the cardinal’s wings unfurl gracefully, stretching wide to catch the air. With a burst of energy, the cardinal takes flight, its wings beating with a rapid flurry. The once-hopping bird now becomes a fleeting vision, soaring through the trees in a panicked response to your nearness. Its brilliant red feathers quickly vanish into the forest's darkness.

"I didn't realize how beautiful The Maw is," you note in awe, your eyes trailing into the dark greenery ahead, attempting to catch glimpses of vibrant colors. On the forest floor, delicate purple and yellow flowers have started to bloom, their petals barely emerging from their green husks.

"You're just easily amused," the man by your side teases with a soft huff. "Stick close to the trees," Levi advises, his grip gently tugging at your elbow, guiding you forward. "Don't want you tracking mud everywhere."

You shrug nonchalantly, contemplating the practicality of his advice. "I can just take off my boots when we get back," you suggest. Nonetheless, you allow Levi to lead you closer to the side of a towering evergreen, just one of many casting a dense shadow over your surroundings. As you step closer, you become aware of the uneven ground beneath your feet, disrupted by an intricate network of enormous roots.

This early in spring, it's still a tad chilly out. It's just warm enough that you decided to leave your coat back in the cave. However, the occasional gust of wind carries a crisp bite, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Levi, on the other hand, is still sporting his odd mismatched coat of furs, wary of the lingering chill that could seep into his semi-cold-blooded form.

As you navigate a steep root-encased slope, the uneven terrain poses a challenge, causing you to wobble and struggle to maintain your balance. In contrast, Levi’s inhuman form seems effortlessly adapted to the forest’s obstacles, allowing him to move with grace and ease.

Seeing your struggle, Levi’s hand rises immediately to assist you. With a gentle touch, his hand finds the small of your back, offering support and guidance. His touch is both firm and comforting, stabilizing you as you make your way down the slope. The pressure of his hand against your back serves as a tactile reminder of his protective presence, allowing you to feel more secure in your steps.

With Levi’s guidance, your descent becomes smoother and more controlled. You can’t help but appreciate his thoughtfulness and the way he effortlessly adapts to the environment, always looking out for you.

Pausing for a moment, you turn to Levi, curiosity evident in your voice. "Why are we out here again?"

Levi responds with a mixture of amusement and mild exasperation, his voice laced with affectionate familiarity. "Your attention span has been terrible lately," he teases, his playful remark accompanied by a light chuckle.

"Oh, I wonder why that would be?" you tease in response, bumping your arm playfully into his.

He playfully raises an eyebrow, his voice infused with a touch of mischief. "I wonder…" he echoes your words, a playful glint in his eyes. Pausing, his expression shifts into one of genuine concern. His raised eyebrow lowers, and his mischievous glint gives way to a thoughtful gaze. There's a hint of vulnerability in his eyes as he directs his attention towards you, his voice carrying a softness that reflects his genuine care. "How are you feeling, by the way?" he asks sincerely, his eyes briefly flickering down to your thighs before bouncing back up.

"I told you I'm fine," you reiterate honestly, your words filled with sincerity. You understand his caring nature and how deeply he values your well-being. The memory of the passionate night you shared together brings a slight warmth to your cheeks, knowing that Levi had been concerned about any lingering discomfort you might have experienced.

A soft smile plays on your lips as you continue, wanting to put his worries to rest. "I appreciate you asking, but I'm fine, I promise," you affirm, your voice gentle yet firm. You understand that Levi's concern stems from a place of genuine care for you, but you want to assure him that the soreness has subsided and that you are healing well.

Levi's brows furrow slightly, his gaze searching yours, as if trying to gauge the veracity of your words. "Still..." he begins, his voice trailing off.

You interject, wanting to alleviate any lingering concerns. "It's been days," you assure him, your tone filled with reassurance. "The soreness faded halfway through the next day, I promise. It was mostly just my knees and thighs anyways," you explain, with a soft smirk. "I haven't exactly gotten much exercise lately."

Levi takes a moment to absorb your words, his gaze softening as he comes to terms with your explanation. Slowly, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, indicating his relief. "Alright," he finally concedes, a hint of playfulness returning to his voice. "Just remember, if you ever need anything, I'm here for you."

You reach out, gently squeezing his hand, gratitude and affection evident in your touch. "I know, and I appreciate that more than you know," you respond sincerely.

As you continue your journey beneath the giant darkened canopy of The Maw, you observe Levi's presence beside you. Something seems subtly amiss, and your keen perception picks up on the subtle changes in his demeanor. While it may be barely noticeable to the untrained eye, you sense a distinct shift in the way he carries himself.

Levi's shoulders appear slightly tense and on edge, as if he's holding himself differently, as if he's ready to spring into action at any given moment. Moreover, he seems to have developed an unconscious gravitation towards you. Even in this moment, he leans into you, his side brushing against yours as you walk.

Your concern lingers as you observe Levi's demeanor, the tension in his shoulders and the subtle changes in his behavior prompting worry within you. Unable to contain your worries for even a moment longer, you voice your thoughts, "I- is there something dangerous out here..."

Levi's response is a mixture of reassurance and uncertainty. His tongue flicks out, a subtle gesture that reflects his heightened senses as he tastes the air, trying to detect any potential threats. "I don't sense anything," he finally responds, his voice calm but guarded. The fact that he doesn't meet your gaze adds a layer of complexity to the situation, leaving you wondering about the true nature of his unease.

As you walk side by side, the back of his hand brushes against yours in a fleeting touch before quickly retreating. Sensing his internal struggle, you can't help but smile. He wants to hold your hand.

"You're silly sometimes," you chuckle affectionately, interlacing your fingers with his. The simple act of intertwining your hands immediately sends a surge of relief through his shoulders. As your fingers meet, you feel the warmth of his hand and notice a soft pink hue spreading across his cheekbones.

Levi swallows heavily, shooting you a shy look. His fingers tighten around yours and the thumb works a firm circle into the back of your hand. “We're heading towards a meadow, not far from the river we went to before. I- we need to get new branches for the nest.”

You think of the layers of pine below the soft pelt blankets. “They have gotten sort of mushed,” you concede with a hum. Over the past week you've noticed that the cushion they provide has steadily decreased. Some of them have even become scraggly and brown, though that's mostly the outer patches closer to the entrance. “But we're only going to be here for a little longer, why bother?”

“It's my instincts,” Levi explains. “Since i’m right on the edge of a heat, they're practically screaming at me to make the nest perfect.”

As you round a colossal oak tree, its majestic presence acting as a gateway, the dense embrace of the forest reluctantly relinquishes its hold, revealing a breathtaking sight—a picturesque meadow, bathed in the golden embrace of sunlight. The once-tangled foliage gives way to a carpet of vibrant green grass, stretching out before you like a tranquil haven. The warm rays of the sun pierce through the gaps in the forest canopy, casting a radiant glow upon the meadow’s beauty.

In this idyllic scene, the melodies of nature fill the air, carried on the wings of countless birds. Their elegant flight adds a vivid touch to the tableau, their feathers a kaleidoscope of colors that dance against the azure sky. The harmony of the meadow, with its sunlit expanse and lively avian inhabitants, stirs a sense of wonder and tranquility within you.

Stepping forward, you feel the gentle caress of sunlight on your skin, its warmth serving as a comforting embrace. Lost in the beauty of your surroundings, you muse aloud, “Surprised you don’t want to clean all of the furs…” The question lingers in the air, carrying a hint of curiosity and a touch of playful banter, directed towards Levi.

He huffs, smiling softly at how well you know him. “I do, trust me,” he shakes his head. “The smell helps. It's hard to explain, but it makes me feel less on edge to have our scents mixed together everywhere.”

Your gaze shifts to the far end of the meadow, where a cluster of more reasonably sized evergreens beckons. The verdant giants stand tall, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. The two of you quickly make your way towards them.

Reaching the side of a trio of them, you note that even though they're smaller than their neighbors, they still tower high above you. You take a moment to assess the situation, realizing that all the larger branches are well beyond your reach. A note of uncertainty colors your voice as you inquire, “How do we-”

Before you can even finish your sentence, Levi springs into action. With remarkable agility, he swiftly maneuvers himself around the base of the tree, using the natural grooves and irregularities of the bark as his handholds. His tail, a sleek and powerful appendage, coils tightly around the trunk, aiding in his ascent as he deftly pulls himself from one branch to another.

As Levi effortlessly navigates the intricate network of branches, you find yourself in awe of his unexpected tree-climbing prowess. The sight of his muscles flexing and the fluidity of his movements captivate you. In a mix of surprise and admiration, you shout up towards the branches, unable to contain your astonishment, “You can climb trees?”

His voice carries down to you, infused with a touch of playful sarcasm, “No, what would make you think that?”

The lighthearted banter in his response brings a smile to your face. Playfully rolling your eyes, you reply, “You know, no one likes a smart-ass.”

Levi’s progress up the tree continues, each branch serving as a stepping stone towards an elevated vantage point. As you watch him navigate with ease, amazement fills your heart.

“That’s clearly not true,” he chimes down at you, his voice carrying a playful undertone. From this distance, his features are obscured, but you can sense the mischievous smirk in his tone. “As long as I can wrap around the base, I can get up most trees, no problem.”

Looking up at him, you suddenly feel a pang of uncertainty. Feeling useless, your hands fidget aimlessly. “What do you want me to do?” you ask, seeking direction as you yearn to be of assistance.

His voice carries down, filled with a mix of determination and trust in your abilities. “I’m going to slice down some larger branches. Make sure to keep out of their way. Can you pile them up so they’ll be easy to drag back later?”

With an eager nod, you move to stand at a safe distance away. Levi's tail coils around the base of a substantial branch, lending stability as he deftly wields his sharp claws, severing the limb with a single, precise swipe. The detached branch teeters momentarily, precariously balanced in his scaly grip.

Levi's urgent call reaches your ears, his voice laced with caution. "I'm going to drop it. Make sure you're out of the way!"

Responding without hesitation, you shout back in affirmation, reassured by the distance between you and the impending descent of the massive branch. Though Levi can clearly discern your safe position, you appreciate the consideration and warning.

With a resounding crash, the branch collides with the ground, creating a thunderous impact that echoes through the meadow. The sheer size of the fallen branch overwhelms you—the trunk of it surpasses the thickness of your leg, while its sprawling branches, adorned with pine needles, extend and dwarf your own stature. Just from looking at it you can tell its weight is substantial, but determination fuels your efforts.

Grasping onto the branch, you summon your strength and begin to move it, inch by inch, towards the center of the meadow. The task is demanding the muscles in your arms and thighs burning from physical exertion, yet you persevere, driven by the knowledge that this collective effort will prove worthwhile. The earth beneath your feet resists, but your determination prevails, and you gradually overcome the resistance, dragging the branch along with grit and determination.

Meanwhile, Levi deftly maneuvers within the tree, seamlessly transitioning from one branch to another, expertly severing more limbs with the swift motion of his claws. His actions are almost as if he anticipates your progress, ensuring a steady supply of branches for you to collect and arrange.

As you laboriously haul one branch into place, he provides a continuous stream of fresh additions, reinforcing the growing pile with each subsequent slash. Together, you create an organized collection of branches, neatly stacked and ready for future use. Somehow, Levi had assured that the first branch had been the largest, each one getting smaller and lighter than the last and the pile rises above the grass.

Beads of sweat begin forming on your brow, forcing you to instinctively wipe them away with the back of your hand. Despite the physical strain, a wide smile splits across your face. The rhythmic movements and the growing pile of branches elicit a sense of accomplishment, fueling your determination to complete the task at hand.

With the sprawling branches now surpassing the height of your waist, you pause for a moment, pondering the quantity needed to adequately line the bottom of the cave. Your curiosity prompts you to voice your thoughts, asking, “How many do we need? Shouldn’t this be more than enough?”

From the canopy above, Levi emits a thoughtful hum, his voice carrying a note of assurance. Leaning over his perch, he eyes the stack you've made so far. “Just a few more,” he replies. The words hang in the air as several more branches succumb to gravity, crashing to the ground. As you move to gather them, Levi once again exhibits remarkable agility, swiftly descending from his lofty perch. With his assistance, the last remaining handful of branches are swiftly gathered to join the pile.

Standing side by side, you survey the accumulated bounty, the amalgamation of your joint efforts. “How are we supposed to drag these back? I can't even imagine how much this weighs..”

“It shouldn't be a problem,” he assures you with a shrug. “We just need to make sure all of the branches are tucked together. It's always a bitch when one falls off midway.”

Nodding in agreement, you crouch down, determined to secure the loose outer branches and create a more manageable load. As you grasp one of the upper branches, your fingers encounter an unexpected sensation—a squirming beneath the soft pine needles. Involuntarily, you let out a startled squeal, instinctively retracting your hand and clutching it protectively against your chest.

A small, blueish-grey head emerges from the pine needles, revealing oozing empty black eyes that fix their hollow gaze upon you. The creature, with its pointed ears and tangled, matted hair, unfurls its firefly-like wings, their faint glow casting an eerie light. In a flurry of motion, it swiftly rises, hissing menacingly mere inches from your face, exposing its rows of black, needle-thin teeth. Panic seizes your heart, causing it to hammer wildly in your chest, and a scream lodges in your throat, ready to burst forth.

Moments later, another of these mysterious creatures breaks free from the branch, joining its companion in a frenzied buzz, circling in front of your face. They twitch and spasm oddly as they hover terrifyingly close, their little mouths snapping hungrily at your skin and the corners of their mouths foaming sickeningly. You manage to muster a shaky plea, your voice quivering in a quiet squeak. “L-Levi!”

In an instant, Levi’s attention is fully on you, his eyes widening in alarm as he gasps your name. With remarkable agility, he swiftly moves to your side, placing himself between you and the hissing, fluttering creatures. Baring his fangs, his expression twists into a display of fierce determination as he emits a loud, angry hiss that sends the creatures scurrying back into the depths of the dark woods at the edge of the meadow.

Turning back to you, Levi’s intense gaze studies your features, his touch gentle as he cups your elbow. Concern lines his face as he asks, “Are you alright?”

Taking a shaky breath, you nod, still feeling a bit dazed from the encounter. “Y-yeah,” you manage to reply, your voice wavering. “W-what were those creatures?”

Levi’s scowl deepens as he answers, “Pixies. Wild ones, by the looks of it.”

Pixies. The word echoes in your mind, evoking both fascination and a newfound wariness. Your next question emerges hesitantly, “W-were they going to… eat me?”

Levi’s response is blunt, his tone conveying a somber reality. “They probably wouldn’t have gotten far. One or two pixies can’t do much damage, but a dozen or more… They can pick someone’s bones clean in a matter of minutes.”

A chill runs down your spine at the realization of the danger you narrowly escaped. The forest suddenly feels more ominous, its enchantment now tinged with a hint of menace. Feeling the weight of your fear, Levi’s expression softens with regret. He releases his hold on your elbow and reaches out to gently touch your arm, seeking to provide comfort. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes sincerely, his voice filled with remorse. “They were so small that I didn’t catch their scent. I should have been more vigilant.”

With the gravity of the situation sinking in, you appreciate Levi’s apology and the understanding he expresses. You take a moment to collect yourself, allowing his touch to soothe your frazzled nerves. Despite the fear that still lingers, you find solace in his presence and the reassurance he offers.

As your pulse slows, frustration surges forth within you, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. "I shouldn't have frozen up like that," you frown, berating yourself for your inaction. The knife hanging from your hip remains untouched, dangling heavily against your thigh. They'd been easy enough to startle away. You should’ve done something other than stand there quivering in fear. The realization hits you hard – there is so much to learn about The Maw, including vital fighting and survival skills.

Levi's gaze meets yours, his expression filled with remorse but also a renewed sense of determination. "We need to be more cautious from now on," he asserts firmly, his voice tinged with resolve. "Especially as the forest comes alive."

You nod, determination replacing the initial shock as the weight of the encounter lingers. Your palm finds the hilt of your knife, a reminder of the need to grow stronger. Swallowing heavily, you cast your gaze upon the large mound of branches before you. "Are we ready to head back?" you ask, steeling yourself for the journey.

Levi responds with a nod, his strength evident as he pulls the trunk of the large bottom-most branch up over his shoulder with a grunt. Despite its massive weight, his shoulders remain steady and upright, his biceps displaying minimal strain. The long length of his tail slips beneath the pile, lifting it effortlessly from the grass. "Stick close," he advises, his voice carrying a sense of caution and protection.

You nod in response, a vague sense of fear prickling along the back of your head as you eye the darkened forest edge. With Levi taking the lead, you fall in step beside him, keeping a close distance as you begin the journey back to the cave.

As you traverse through the forest, the sunlight filters through the dense canopy, casting small dappled patterns on the forest floor. The rhythmic sound of your footsteps is accompanied by the rustling of leaves and the occasional call of birds in the distance. Even with the giant load balanced on his shoulder and tail, Levi moves terrifyingly quietly. The air is filled with the earthy scent of moss and damp soil, intermingled with the sharp fragrance of pine.

Time seems to pass in a blur as you make steady progress, the distance gradually shrinking between you and the safety of the cave. Each step brings you closer to your sanctuary, where the warmth and familiarity of home await.

As you continue walking, a comfortable silence envelops you. Your gaze occasionally drifts towards Levi's swaying hips, a mix of admiration and another indescribable feeling lingering in your thoughts. You find yourself captivated by the way he moves, the easy and thoughtless sway of his hips, completely unaware of the effect he has on you. Despite his size and the sheer strength he possesses, his movements are graceful and nearly soundless. The enticing sway of his hips from side to side holds your attention, as if he were dancing, drawing you closer in some enchanting spell.

Three days. It's been three days since he'd been inside you, tongue, tail and cock. The mere memory has heat surging in your thighs, an open ache of yearning fluttering to life within your core. You believe his recent intensity is due to his approaching heat. He had mentioned that it would arrive soon, within a few days to a week, and there’s something in the way he carries himself that suggests it’s imminent.

You can't help but feel a surge of excitement. The anticipation of what lies ahead leaves you with a dry mouth. Almost involuntarily, your gaze lingers on the delicate strip of pale skin at the small of his waist, tracing the subtle sway of his hip as he gracefully moves beside you.

Shifting close, Levi catches your attention by brushing his arm against yours. Sensing the direction of your thoughts, he breaks the silence, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "You can still change your mind, you know. I know we already..” His frustration manifests as he runs his fingers through his dark locks. The arm raised above head to balance your haul on his shoulder flexes, the muscles of his bicep straining in a display of tension. He sounds almost resigned, “I wouldn’t blame you if you felt it was too much..”

You interrupt him gently, speaking his name softly. "Levi..." you chide, shooting him a soft, exasperated look.

He lets out a huff, his tone shifting to a more practical note. "You know how to get to the Den if it becomes too much, right? From the entrance of the nest, go straight west and follow the river north."

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. "Honestly, I don't even know which way is West.” The frown you get in response is almost severe, complete with a flat deadpan. “But I want you to know, I'm not going to change my mind." The determination in your voice is unmistakable.

“I think-” he starts hesitantly, “I think my heat is going to start tomorrow.” He raises his free hand, lightly pressing his nails into the skin above his heart. “I can feel it already it's- it's never been so intense before.”

“What does it feel like?” you ask, your gaze locked on his face, wanting to understand the depth of what he’s going through.

“Like lava is burning along the edges of my senses,” he explains, head tilting back as his eyes flutter closed in a shudder. Adjusting his grip on the trunk, the muscles of his back twitch in a violent shudder. “It's sort of like an itch that's just out of my reach, so I can't scratch it. One that's gradually getting more and more intense.”

The news fills you with a mix of concern and curiosity. “How long will it last?”

He shrugs, “Every time is different, but i've always been alone before. Sometimes it's lasted a week-” your shock must be evident, because Levi quickly rushes to assure you, “I don't think it'll last as long this time though. I’ve heard that having a partner and forming a bond helps.. satisfy it quicker.”

Finally, as the mouth of the cave comes into view, a sense of relief washes over you. Despite the burden of the branches weighing him down for almost an hour, Levi appears unfazed.

Levi carefully sets the branches near the entrance of the cave, and together, you roll up the pelt bedding, stowing it away in a corner at the far end. Upon closer inspection, you realize the branches are in worse condition than you initially thought. They appear old and scraggly, with most of the needles turned brown from age. Numerous branches are broken, their thin twigs snapped off into dry and messy pieces of wood.

Squinting at the sun, Levi observes its position as it slowly lowers along the middle of the horizon. "It's getting late. I'll go catch us something to eat. Could you clear out the old debris while I'm gone?" he asks.

"Of course," you reply, nodding in agreement. As Levi's tail disappears into the darkness of the woods, you begin to remove the larger branches from the cave. The floor is covered in a tangle of brown needles, and you do your best to sweep them out of the entrance. As you sweep away the brown needles and clear the entrance, your attention is drawn to the small divot in the cave, where Levi keeps his odd collection of books and bobbles. With a clearer view, you realize it's not a natural groove but rather a result of claw marks. Silver scrapes adorn the corners of the crevice, indicating the strength and power behind Levi's claws. The realization prompts questions to swirl in your mind. Just how strong is he? How dangerous can his claws be?

While contemplating these thoughts, you continue tidying up, appreciating the utility of the small brush you retrieved from Levi's collection of odds and ends. It's a versatile tool that he typically uses to clean up ashes from the fire or to remove mud from his scales. Its bristles serve you well in clearing out the debris, making the cave entrance cleaner and more inviting.

By the time you finish clearing the floor, Levi returns, his catch of the day slung over his shoulder. However, to your surprise, it's not a small game like a rabbit but a much larger animal— a brown deer.

"An entire deer?" you exclaim, astonished, as you assess the limp form draped over Levi's shoulder.

He nods, a hint of pride in his eyes. "My metabolism is revving up again, and considering the upcoming days, we might not have much time to eat.” He places the deer carcass down onto the grass near the cave’s entrance. “I'll skin it later. Let's focus on finishing the preparations for the nest before the sun sets.”

You nod in understanding, realizing that daylight is fading quickly. Shuffling the brush between your hands, you add, “I’ve just finished clearing out the loose needles.”

“Thank you,” he praises softly, his eyes scanning the area you've just cleared away. “You didn't do a terrible job.”

The half-compliment brings a sense of satisfaction to your chest, especially considering his earlier criticism at the creek. "The branches you grabbed are much larger than the ones from before," you comment, noting the massive size of the bottommost branches.

He hums in agreement, his claws effortlessly slicing free a handful of smaller branches that jut out from the main body. “We’ll use these, so there aren't any excessively thick twigs below. The pine is supposed to help protect us from the layer of cold stone, but we don't want it to be a bitch to lay on. The thicker trunks will serve as good firewood for next year."

Pulling your knife from your hip, you join him in slicing free all of the smaller branches. Following his lead, you carefully sort through the branches, ensuring that each one is no larger than the width of your finger. Together, you work diligently, and soon enough, the entire floor is covered in a thick layer of fresh green pine. The scent of pine fills the air, lending a refreshing and earthy aroma to the nest. With the branches in place, you roll the pelts back over, and it’s as if nothing has changed—except for the improved comfort and insulation provided by the fresh bedding.

Satisfied with your work, you step back into the entrance to admire the transformed nest. Behind you, Levi effortlessly stacks the empty branches into a pile, ready to be dealt with later. Using his claws with practiced precision, he swiftly skins the deer, bringing a substantial pile of pink meat to the fireside. He starts to work, swiftly impaling the pieces on sharp sticks to cook them over the fire.

"I'll take over," you wave him off, eager to contribute to the meal preparation. Smiling softly in appreciation, he curls up to sit by your side.

As you tend to the cooking, Levi's fingers deftly weave some of the leftover small branches together. Intrigued by his actions, you observe as a thick rounded edge quickly takes shape. "I..." he starts distractedly, his fingers continuing their intricate twining. "I might be different in the morning. I might wake up with my heat..."

The thought thrills you, and Levi's heated gaze confirms that he senses your excitement. "I'm fine with that," you respond, a playful glint in your eyes.

Levi nods, his expression becoming more intense. "You might want to sleep naked," he advises, his voice low and suggestive. His eyes flicker down, catching the fabric of your blouse, before bouncing back up. His shoulders hunch shyly. "I don't want to tear them."

A mischievous smile spreads across your face. "You'd just fix it again," you note, a hint of anticipation in your voice. "Probably a good idea though. Oh! I never thanked you for fixing my coat!"

He rumbles softly, his voice filled with warmth. "It was my fault it got torn in the first place."

As the fire crackles and the enticing aroma of cooked meat fills the nest, you find your attention drawn to the rhythmic shifting of Levi's lithe fingers. The small twigs are swiftly woven together, forming a flat sheet that continues to grow, revealing a glimpse of his skilled craftsmanship. Soon enough, the pine coated branches sprawl across his lap in a thick, square-ish plate.

With a determined expression, Levi lifts the woven sheet and carefully positions it in front of the scraggly entrance of the cave, effectively closing off the outside world. The interwoven branches create a natural barrier, providing some privacy and protection. In the top right corner, there is enough space for the smoke from the fire to billow free, ensuring ventilation within the nest.

He's closed you in. As you swallow heavily and gaze at the carefully braided expanse of verdant pine, you can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and excitement. Rather than feeling trapped or confined, the enclosure created by Levi's handiwork ignites a thrilling sensation that tingles at the back of your mind. The intimate space seems to foster an atmosphere of closeness and heightened emotions, fueling the excitement coursing through your veins.

By your side, the chunks of meat sizzle and gain a tempting char. You swallow, feeling your stomach growl in response to the mouthwatering smell. Gesturing vaguely at Levi's handiwork, you start unevenly, “Wh- why did you?”

Levi’s expression softens, his eyes meeting yours. “Because I care about you,” he replies sincerely. “During my heat, I want to provide for you and ensure your comfort.”

The warmth of his words fills the air, and you can’t help but feel a surge of gratitude and affection for him. As the meat continues to cook, you find yourself drawn closer to him, the anticipation of the coming days mingling with the scent of the meal, creating a sense of intimacy and shared purpose.

His voice continues as he tucks up tightly against you, his tail encircling your waist and his arm draped across your back. The intensity in his eyes returns, a deep and burgeoning heat that sends shivers of anticipation down your spine. "It also gives us some privacy," he explains, his voice laced with a mix of need and desire. "My instincts are kicking in and they want to ensure we aren't disturbed."

Nose flaring, Levi reaches across you to grab some meat, his movements driven by both hunger and urgency. “You should eat,” he urges, pressing the meat kabob in your direction, his voice low and husky. “I don’t think we’ll be able to get more food until things have… settled.”

Concern fills your voice as you reply, “Hopefully there’s enough water in the cooking pot.” Reaching over, you grab the proffered stick, savoring the juicy, thick slices of deer as you quickly devour them.

As Levi gorges himself on the meat, tearing it apart easily with his sharp fangs, you follow suit, consuming the food with equal fervor under his watchful eye. He encourages you to eat more, emphasizing the need for energy.

By the time you both finish, the sun has almost disappeared beyond the horizon, casting a warm orange glow through the covered entrance of the cave. Levi’s worried expression becomes more pronounced as he tugs at the hem of your shirt, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the fabric. He presses soft kisses to the sleeve, a mixture of affection and concern in his voice. “We… we should sleep. You’ll need your rest before it starts.”

The weight of his words settles in, and you nod in agreement, feeling a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. The night ahead holds unknown experiences and uncharted territories, but you trust Levi to guide you through it.

As you and Levi prepare for sleep, he assists you in removing your clothes, handling them with care as he folds them and sets them aside. Then, he enfolds you in his arms, drawing your chest flush against his own and guiding your face to nestle against his neck. His tail wraps around you, providing a comforting weight akin to a cozy blanket.

With tender lips pressing against the top of your head, he whispers softly into your hair, expressing his concerns for the next day. His fingers delicately weave through your hair, offering soothing and affectionate gestures. "I'm sorry if I'm... if I'm too much tomorrow," he murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and care.

Nuzzling into his chest, eyes heavy with fatigue, you reassure him softly. "I'll be fine, Levi," you assure him, your words laced with understanding. "I trust you."

Guided by the gentleness of his touch and the security of his presence, you gradually surrender to a peaceful slumber. The sensation of his scales against your skin creates a cocoon of intimacy and protection, fostering a deep sense of comfort. Wrapped in Levi's embrace, you find solace and rest, ready to face whatever challenges the coming days may bring.

You wake as a loud hiss pierces the air, accompanied by the sensation of fangs pressing against your throat. Blinking to awareness, your body tenses with a surge of adrenaline. The sharp pinpricks send a jolt of pain through your senses, and a deep rumbling growl reverberates through you, jarring your awareness.

Instinct kicks in, and your mind races to assess the situation. With a surge of urgency, you realize that the dynamics have shifted, and the once-familiar embrace of Levi now feels threatening and dangerous. His heat had started. You become acutely aware of the primal instincts at play, reminding you of the unfamiliar nature of your partner. Gasping for breath, your feet kick frantically and your hands squirm at your sides, desperate to find purchase on his shoulders.

Struggling against the darkness surrounding you, your eyes slowly adjust to the dim moonlit beams that manage to penetrate the barred entryway. Trembling, your voice catches in your throat as the sharp points tighten around your windpipe. A shuddering breath escapes Levi’s lips, and the hot length of his tongue slides across your throat, leaving behind a wet heat. In a moment of urgency, your hands reach up, entangling in the dark tresses at the back of his head, tugging with urgency. “L-Levi,” you manage to squeak out.

With a deep, rumbling growl, the sharp grasp around your throat loosens. Levi hovers above you, his features twisted into a raw and primal display. Moonlight reflects off the sharp points of his glistening fangs, appearing even longer and sharper as they hang menacingly above your face.

In the dim light, his eyes emit a luminous glow, while the whites shine with an unsettling brightness. His pupils, like tiny pinpricks, are sharply defined, enclosed within a shade of deep burning charcoal grey. The air in the small cave becomes suffocatingly hot as his chest heaves, his mouth releasing a sticky, balmy heat. As he gazes down at you, his chest swells with a deep rumble, and his nails dig painfully into your back.

Lacking any of his usual care, the grasp is far from gentle. You think you feel a wet heat welling up from where the sharp points are digging into your skin, the telltale sign of blood beginning to trickle from around the tips of his claws.

Squirming, you notice a warm slickness coating your bottom half. He's leaking, practically gushing, and his cock is already out, jabbing your belly and leaving a slick warm ooze against your skin.

"Maaate," he hisses, his urgency evident as he fervently licks at the skin of your throat. In the scorching intensity of his heat, it seems as though all rational thought has vanished, replaced by a primal instinct. Levi's presence has completely vanished, replaced by a relentless beast.

His tail coils tightly around you, its scales constricting to the point where movement becomes impossible. Your arms and legs are firmly immobilized within its sinewy grasp, leaving you completely restrained. Your heart stammers, its rhythm faltering in response to the overwhelming surge of fear and anticipation coursing through your veins.

“Maaaaate,” he growls again. His hips jolt and more wetness oozes between you. There's so much of it, warm and slick dripping to coat the entirety of your stomach and thighs. You can feel the tip of him throb, leaking a thick trail of white along your abdomen. His face contorts and those dark glowing eyes delve deep into your own. It's a question, you realize. Even out of his mind with lust, Levi is confirming that you're okay with this.

“Y-yeah,” you manage to gasp, your breath catching in your throat. With an ardent nod, you express your agreement. “I’m your mate.”

He growls in response, his tail trembling with excitement as it continues to coil around you. Leaning forward, he affectionately nuzzles his nose against yours with a happy hum. Nudging your nose into his, you pull him into a shallow lip lock that quickly becomes heated. Hot breath bathing your face, it's like he's drinking the taste of you with a pleased hum. He moans, the sharp points of his teeth pressing into the supple skin of your bottom lip, inducing a slight prickle of pain and flooding your senses with the metallic taste of iron.

"Shit, Levi," you gasp, the metallic taste of your own blood lingering on your lips. Surprisingly, rather than deter you, it only serves to further ignite your desires, sending a surge of intense heat coursing through your veins at an alarming pace. Urgently pressing your thighs together, you deepen the kiss, pushing your mouth against his with an eager sigh, yearning for the sound of his pleased little moans and hums.

As your tongue brushes against the sharp row of his fangs, you can't help but notice that they are longer, their pointed tips resembling tiny blades. Running your tongue along his incisor, the taste of iron intensifies, flooding your senses once again.

In response, he releases a loud, pleasure-filled moan, his lips fervently pushing and pulling against yours in an unending display of passion. Drawing in a sharp breath, he inhales your scent deeply, releasing a hot gust of air that tickles your cheek. His hands firmly grip your hips, matching the tight and pulsating hold of the scales enveloping you. Jolting, your hips roll into his with a needy whine. Trapped between you, his cock throbs, the slick mess between you only growing.

In a flurry of motion, the coil of his tail suddenly twists you over onto your hands and knees. His claws drag down your bare back in one long sweep, the edges barely grazing your skin. The touch sends a long rolling shutter down your spine. Parts of his tail wrap around each of your thighs, firmly holding them apart under his intense, fiery gaze. Another wider section of his tail remains securely coiled around your waist, exerting a tight and twisting pressure, effectively restricting your movements.

Trapped. You feel trapped, but fear doesn't fill your heart. Instead, an amalgamation of anticipation, curiosity, and desire takes its place. The loss of control intensifies the throbbing sensation in your chest, as you surrender to the captivating and passionate experience unraveling before you. It’s a mixture of emotions that adds an exhilarating edge to the encounter, heightening your senses.

You can feel the intensity of his gaze burning between your thighs, drinking in the sight of the slick that's already leaking to the crease of your thighs. His hands shift from your waist, spreading your ass cheeks wide. “Wet,” he growls excitedly, pressing his teeth against the curve of your right cheek. The sharp edge causes a sudden jolt of sensation, making you shudder within the tight grip of his hold. “Mine,” he asserts possessively, hot breath bathing your soaked center.

Apparently he can only express himself with singular words, limited by the overwhelming sensations and desires coursing through him. Each word he utters carries a weight of raw emotion, stripped down to its core essence, conveying his primal instincts and unbridled passion in the simplest yet most intense way.

In response to his limited but powerful words, you find yourself trembling with a mixture of vulnerability and surrender. With a shudder, your toes curl into the soft bedding below. The weight of your admission, “Y-yours. All yours,” hangs in the air, expressing your deep longing and desire to belong to him completely.

As his thumbs shift down to spread open your folds, you clench helplessly beneath his gaze. Watching you flutter, the growl that leaves his chest can only be described as a whine. “Pretty,” he groans, voice thick with desire. Blood rushes to fill your face with heat, causing your face to flush with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.

You feel so open, with him behind you looking straight inside your entrance. Part of you wishes you could see him. You long to see his face, to witness the expressions and emotions that accompany this new dynamic. It feels different from before, and amidst the excitement, you find yourself yearning for the soft, reassuring weight of his gaze.

Squirming in embarrassment, the tight grasp around you suddenly tightens severely. The section of his hold encircling your ribs constricts, nearly squeezing the air from your lungs. Simultaneously, one of his hands applies strong pressure between your shoulder blades, its force posing a risk of toppling you forward.

In a sharp, hissing tone, he commands, "Still." The urgency and authority in his voice demand your compliance, leaving little room for hesitation.

Something prods your folds, making you gasp in shock, jolting your hips forward despite his warning growl. Nails dig into your cheeks, spreading you wide, and then something wet and hot slides along the crease of your folds in one long stroke from bottom to top. It's his tongue, you realize with a shaky gasp. He's bent over behind you, claws digging into your skin as he hungrily sucks at your folds. A hot, shaky breath bathes your folds. “Mine,” he breathes hotly into your cunt.

Levi tongues urgently at your entrance, lapping mindlessly along the length of your folds. It's aimless and frantic, pleased groans buzzing along your sensitive skin with every flick of his tongue. Untouched, your clit aches. Spit soaks your core, dripping down to bathe the crease of your thighs.

“Ahh, Levi,” you moan, struggling to hold still. Every part of you seems to throb, desperate for more stimulation. Raising your hips, you try to guide him with a needy whine, “H-higher. My clit. Please!”

The only response you get is an eager huff of air from his nose, blown directly into the crease of your ass. He's preparing you, you realize, as the forked tip of his tongue presses searchingly into your hole. He's soaking your already slick entrance with his spit in preparation for you to take his cock.

He works diligently, stretching your rim with the tip of his tongue and shallowly lapping inward. As you thoughtlessly roll your rolling hips into his mouth, his nails dig into the skin of your ass, pulling you in with a heady groan. Working his way deeper and deeper, the slick appendage writhes deep into your guts. It’s like he’s transformed into a primal, untamed creature, hungry and thoughtless. Every ravenous moan emanating from him resonates deep within you, stirring a primal response that shakes you to your core. Your clit hasn't even been touched and yet your thighs are already shaking.

Eventually, he withdraws, seemingly satisfied. Aching and empty, you can't help but jolt back searchingly, eager for more of the hot slide of his tongue. You can hear his lips smack with a wet and pleased hum.

“Mate?” Levi’s voice echoes once more, a deep rumble filled with longing and uncertainty. He rises, pressing his chest firmly against your back, creating a closeness that envelops you in his presence. The sharp points of his fangs delicately graze against the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. With a deep yearning, his hips begin to sway, tracing a slow and desperate circle. Slick scales glide along the back of your thighs and the length of his cock drags teasingly along your folds with a boiling wet heat.

“Y-yeah,” you answer dazedly, mind reeling. Your hips jolt as the blunt curve of his head bumps into the ring of your entrance. It spurts, leaking a hot sticky mess along your folds.

Chest rumbling happily, he works the tip of himself just past the ring of your entrance in short little jabs. Then, he fills you with one smooth stroke, the glide slick and easy.

“Shit,” he curses, his voice carrying a rare moment of clarity amidst the overwhelming sensations. It’s the most cognizant he has sounded thus far, breaking through the primal haze that engulfs him. He holds still for several months, his fingers working soothing circles into your hip. As you both immerse in the intensity of the moment, you feel the pulsating tightness of his coiled form, vibrating with pleasure all around you. It's like the coiled length of him is throbbing, matching the beat of his cock as it pulses inside you.

"L-Levi," you strain, your voice trembling with a mixture of pleasure and need. The name escapes your lips as a fervent plea, a testament to the overwhelming sensations that consume you. Every nerve in your body feels alive. Levi hasn’t even moved yet, but just the weight of him, over and inside you, is enough to make your toes curl and your breath catch. Taking short, heavy breaths, you feel overwhelmed just by the feel of him: heavy and big and solid.

He pulls most of the way out with a filthy, slick squelch that makes your ears ring. Just the tip of him remains, throbbing tucked into the quivering ring of your entrance. His breath shudders, causing his chest to hollow against your back. A deep groan begins to build at the base of his chest, resonating with a primal intensity. The sound emerges from deep within him, a raw expression of pleasure and desire that escapes his lips. The grip around you tightens, encompassing you with a firm hold. One hand wraps tightly around your thigh, forcing your knees to widen and your back to bow. His chest fills again with a shuddered breath and his other hand pulls at your hip, urging you to meet him as he fills you with a hard, sharp thrust.

"F-fuck! Levi!" you wail unevenly, your voice filled with a mix of pleasure and surprise. Your fingers scramble against the bedding, seeking an anchor in the midst of the overwhelming sensations. The strength of his thrust propels you forward, causing you to bounce involuntarily. Instinctively, you press your forehead into the soft pelt below, seeking a momentary refuge in its comforting texture. The intensity of the experience leaves you gasping for breath, caught between ecstasy and surrender.

With that singular thrust, his short moment of sanity ends and the beast returns with a deep rumbling growl. “Mine,” he repeats in a fevered growl, fucking into you mercilessly, his hips jolting so hard and fast that you can't even begin to try to meet him. It's so much different than the last time he was inside you, so much more fevered and intense in comparison and the experience is completely out of your control. It's like you're just being used for his pleasure, a thought that sends your mind reeling. “Mine- mine- mine-”

“Ah ah ah -shit-” you cry, eyes pinching tight as your body rocks completely out of your control. The angle is excruciatingly tight and the delicious friction of his cock dragging along your walls is enough to make you drool uncontrollably into the bedding. The spongy tip of him drags against your g-spot with every forward stroke, making you whimper and throb helplessly. The wet slap of his scales against your puffy and oversensitive petals has you nearly mindless.

He penetrates you with an incredible depth that leaves you gasping for breath and squirming in response. The sensation is overwhelming, pushing you to the limits of pleasure and sending waves of sensation coursing through your body.

Overwhelmed, you shift your weight from your hands to your forearms, burying one shoulder into the bedding as you arch your back. Wrapped tightly in his scaly grasp, he continues to give you more and more, rendering you utterly helpless to resist. Hard and fast, you can't do anything but take it. The intensity grows, unrelenting and fast-paced, and you find yourself unable to do anything but surrender to it. The sensations become nearly overwhelming, teetering on the edge of painful overstimulation. “F-fuck! Levi! Slower! Slower, please!” you beg, your plea escaping your lips without thought, desperate for some respite.

Suddenly, his hips press hard and impossibly deep into you and still, his cock lurching inside you with a heady throb. The hand on your thigh shifts, gliding through the sticky mess between you to swirl at your clit. "Oh, shit! Ah! God-" you gasp, feeling your back shudder and stretch as your muscles spasm uncontrollably.

With a grunt, he resumes his pace, thrusting harder and filling you in a way that overwhelms your senses. Your knees tremble under the intensity of the moment, barely able to support you. Between you, Levi is still oozing slickness from around the base of his cock. With every thrust, you can feel wet droplets splash to coat the backs of your thighs.

As you fall forward, your chest meets the soft pelt beneath you, sinking into its comforting embrace. The coil of his tail tightly wrapped around your belly keeps your hips elevated, keeping you up and spread for him to fill you again and again. The intense sensation of his thumb swirling and gliding over your sensitive bud has you trembling uncontrollably. Your gasps for air become loud and desperate, and your thighs begin to shake with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.

Overwhelmed by the intense sensations and emotions coursing through you, tears stream down your face as sobs escape your trembling lips. Your fingers instinctively claw desperately into the bedding beneath you, seeking something to hold onto amidst the overwhelming pleasure and vulnerability. The heavy knot in your stomach tightens agonizingly, reaching its peak as pleasure courses through your body. With a shudder that ripples through you, you reach your climax, releasing a guttural scream of ecstasy that echoes through the air. The intensity of the moment consumes you completely, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake.

You’re aware, distantly, of him cursing and pressing himself flat to your back, his face dropping to the curve of your neck, his hands holding your hips and fucking up into you faster and faster until, with one deep thrust, he stills. He spills inside you with a filthy groan, throbbing heavily.

His hips jolt in several broken thrusts as more and more warmth splashes against your walls. It's so much. He comes so much, you can feel the thick spurts that follow every heady throb. As Levi growls deeply, the low rumble reverberates through his chest, creating vibrations that resonate within both of you. The intensity of the sound sends shivers down your spine, and you can feel the vibrations spreading throughout your entire body, from head to toe. Suddenly he shifts, jolting impossibly deeper inside you as a sharp pain appears at the pulse of your throat. He's biting you, you realize, humming eagerly as his fangs dig deep into the side of your neck. Oddly enough, it doesn't really hurt. The only bit of pain is when the sharpened row of teeth initially clamp and sink through your skin. After that the only sensations you know are heat and pleasure.

As his fangs remain firmly embedded in the side of your neck, the conflicting mix of sensations confuses your senses, but you cannot deny the unusual pleasure that accompanies his bite. As you continue and throb and flutter with the tail end of your peak, something at the base of his cock swells painfully wide to form a warm and heavy bulb that stretches your rim painfully wide.

"Wh-what?" you stammer, your mind dazed and disoriented. You can feel the tremor in your voice, but it's as if the sound is muted, lost in the overwhelming haze. The sensations coursing through your body have left you in a state of confusion and sensory overload, making it difficult to fully process or comprehend what is happening around you. Nudging his hips forward, the stretch of your rim is nearly excruciating as he continues to work the knot deeper. He's plugging you up, keeping the copious amount of seed that's sloshing around inside you tucked right where he wants it. The intense mixture of pleasure and pain sends shockwaves through your body, pushing you to the edge once more.

You can't be sure, but you think that you black out for a moment. The first thing that you consciously think about as you come back to your senses is that Levi is warm above you, comforting as he boxes you in; the second is that your ears are ringing. You clench and unclench your hands a few just to try and start to get that far-away feeling out of your limbs — your thighs have already started to ache and your toes burn from being locked in a tight curl.

A feeling of fullness startles you into gasping, and you realize that Levi hasn't pulled out yet. He's still inside you as far as can be, the scales of his pelvis pressed flat to your entrance as the swollen flesh at his base continues to pulse and press eagerly into the ring of your entrance.

You feel Levi's hand tracing the curve of your hip soothingly, his touch creating gentle circles on your skin. The ringing in your ears gradually subsides, allowing you to hear him calling your name softly. "L-Levi," you groan, your eyes fluttering open.

He calls your name once more, his voice slightly rough but noticeably more coherent. The beastly presence has receded, and Levi's awareness has returned, though you remain uncertain for how long it will last.

The swell at his base finally gives, lessening just enough so he can pull free from you with a wet pop. He swiftly turns you around, his hands firmly cupping your shoulders as he searches your face with a worried expression. "Are you okay?" he asks, genuine concern evident in his eyes.

"Yeah," you wheeze, feeling dazed and trying to regain your breath. Stretching out on your back, your gulp eagerly at the sticky air. "I'm fine."

Finally, you get to look at him. Drinking him in after what seems like forever, you note that Levi’s chest is adorned with spotty flushes, his cheeks and ears cast a rosy hue that speaks volumes about his state. His disheveled appearance mirrors your own state of composure and an odd sense of gratification washes over you. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his breaths coming in gasps as he greedily inhales air to replenish his oxygen-depleted lungs. Beads of sweat glide down his forehead, tracing a path down his neck and along his chest, evidence of the intensity and exertion. His eyes, half-lidded and darker than you've ever seen them before, possess an alluring depth that draws you in. In their depths, you witness a potent blend of desire, passion, and vulnerability, reflecting the profound connection forged between you.

He still looks concerned, so you quickly assure him with a comforting pat on his shoulder. “I’m fine. I promise. Just.. dazed and a bit sore.”

In response to your assurance, he frowns momentarily, but upon searching your eyes, he accepts your words. Leaning over you, he delicately licks at the mark he left on your neck, his actions infused with a blend of tenderness and possessiveness. "You're mine," he breathes, his voice carrying a tone of awe and disbelief. The declaration reveals a profound sense of connection and a newfound realization of the bond between you.

The mark on your neck radiates a burning, intense heat, distinct from the familiar sensation of healing. Intrigued, you raise your hand to touch the wound, feeling the distinct imprints of each of his teeth—shallower where his molars had pressed and significantly deeper where his fangs had pierced your skin. Finding the deepest indent, right on the hollow between your shoulder and throat, you ask, “Why'd you bite me?” Surprisingly, there's no blood under your thumb, only warmth and an unconventional sensation of pleasure.

Levi, with a softness in his voice, explains. "It's a mating mark," he murmurs, his words resembling a gentle coo. "If the bond is accepted, it will take on the color of my scales. Everyone who sees it will know that you're mine."

The weight of the proclamation fills your throat with emotion. You can't help but inquire, "Am I supposed to give you a mark in return?"

Levi shrugs, his face retaining an unusual tenderness. "I don't think you can," he replies, pressing a quick kiss to the broken skin. "But I appreciate the offer."

He gasps, thumb trailing along the deepest part, sending a strange surge of pleasure directly to your thighs. “It's already turning black,” he breathes excitedly. The look of excited awe on his face makes your heart throb, a soft smile forming on your lips.

“Of course it is,” you reply, your smile growing as you meet his gaze. As he hovers over you, a joyful glint in his eyes, he playfully nudges his nose against yours.

As he shuffles forward over you, the movement causes the wet tip of his cock to jab into your thigh. You gasp, “Y-your cock didn't go back in?” The last time, it'd disappeared the moment he finished coming, and yet right now it's bobbing between you, heavy and full. It's so odd to see it out, the sensitive grey skin dangling free from the wet and shiny scales of his abdomen. With every vein bulging from the skin, you can practically see his blood flowing and filling the organ, making it lurch as Levi’s breath audibly catches in his throat. It's slick and shiny, the head such a dark swollen red that makes your mouth water. It throbs heavily beneath your gaze, the tip leaking a thrilling white that streaks your thigh with warmth.

"It won't go down until my heat is over," he explains through clenched teeth. His muscles visibly twitch and his shoulders tighten, revealing the struggle for control he's experiencing. The intensity of his desire is evident in his strained expression.

You ask him with concern, "Are you okay?" His chest rises and falls heavily, his breathing becoming labored. His eyes flutter, filled with desire, as his awareness starts to fade away.

As you shift, his gaze darts down between your thighs, widening at the sight. “Look at that,” he coos heatedly. The blunt tip of his finger prods your folds, spreading your labia wide so he can look hungrily at your stretched and quivering entrance. You can feel some of his hot seed ooze free to trickle along your folds.

He gasps, mouth popping open and eyes locking into the white leaking from your folds like it's the most fascinating sight in the world. Using the tips of his fingers, he glides the sticky warmth up and down your folds. The hungry look in his eyes tells you that, if not for the sharp points of his claws, he'd fuck the seed back into you.

Levi's voice is low and possessive as he declares, "Mine." In an instant, the primal beast within him resurfaces. His eyes, already dark, seem to deepen even further, conveying a predatory intensity. Surging forward so that he holds you captive between his forearms, the way he gazes at you sends a shiver down your spine, making you feel both vulnerable and desired, like prey in the presence of a predator.

Pressing his chest flats to yours, he slips inside you in one smooth stroke. This time, he fucks into from above, his grip so tight around your hips that you know it'll bruise. This time, when he pulls out, his thrust back in is somehow even harder, deeper; and any semblance of a thought you could have come up with is gone, just like that. You release a shaky gasp, and Levi responds with a primal growl, his breath hot against your ear. "Mine," he hisses possessively, sinking his teeth into the sensitive flesh of your throat, marking you once again with his claim. The mixture of pleasure and pain sends a jolt of electricity through your body, intensifying the connection between you.

Caught in a whirlwind of overwhelming sensations, you're unable to articulate coherent words, reduced to a symphony of whimpers and moans. Your legs instinctively wrap around Levi, desperate to match the rhythm of his rolling thrusts. The change in angle ignites something new within you, causing your back to arch and your entire body to convulse with pleasure. Waves of ecstasy ripple through you, leaving you trembling and breathless in the wake of the intense sensation. You come again, barely feeling the buildup before you fall over the edge.

Moaning loudly, Levi deftly maneuvers you with a swift movement of his tail, repositioning you so that you're lying on your front, your chest pressed against the soft pelt beneath you. The firm grip of his tail keeps your hips elevated, allowing for deeper penetration. His breath hot against your ear, “Again,” he hisses with an insatiable hunger, relentlessly driving into you with a powerful and unending rhythm that sends your mind spiraling into a realm of sheer ecstasy. Each thrust churns and twists, overwhelming your senses and leaving you lost in a maelstrom of pleasure.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations coursing through your body, you whimper in protest, unable to believe that you can continue. “I can't! I can't!” you scream out in a desperate plea. Yet, despite your protests, your body betrays you. Your hips instinctively meet his thrusts, your inner walls clenching around him in a desperate attempt to hold on to the pleasure that threatens to consume you. With your hips raised, Levi is able to sneak a hand under you to play with your clit. You shriek, one of your legs kicking feebly at the overstimulation, tears overflowing from your eyes, but Levi just coos at you and keeps going.

It feels good, too good; you’ve never felt like this before. Trembling and oversensitive, you feel simultaneously on the very precipice of an orgasm and too exhausted and rung out to ever come again, simultaneously certain you can’t and certain you will. Each thrust pushes you closer to the edge, the pleasure mingling with a hint of pain that amplifies the sensations coursing through your veins. The climax crashes over you like a tidal wave, a mixture of ecstasy and agony that leaves you gasping and trembling in its wake.

Time and sensation both start to bleed together after that. Your orgasm stretches on forever and it’s hard to say when or if it even really ends; it leaves you gasping for air, legs twitching, constantly trying to sink down to the bed, the coil around your waist constantly keeping you up. He murmurs things now and then to the air, your back, the nape of your neck, but you aren't coherent enough to try to understand it — you feel floaty and wonderful, so euphoric that it almost hurts, crying out for more even as you wonder if you can take more at all.

Levi fucks you and fucks you and fucks you and you come what feels like constantly, getting a few brief moments of dizzy reprieve to suck in some desperate breaths before you’re shuddering into an orgasm yet again. It never seems to end, and even as you lie there prone in a puddle, you don’t want it to end. You want all of it —

“Mine! Mine! Mine,” he growls in your ear, releasing pleased little hisses that echo nonstop in your ears. The repetitive echoes of his possessive hisses and moans reverberate through your mind, sending shivers down your spine. The intensity of his words, coupled with the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body, create a whirlwind of pleasure and surrender. It feels like your brain has become a warm liquid puddle, oozing right out from your ear as his warm breath bathes your senses.

As you gasp for breath, the only response you can manage is a breathless affirmation of your complete surrender to him. “Yours,” you repeat again and again in an endless mantra.

Time loses all meaning. For some time, all you know is the hard snap of his hips and the hot slide of his cock. The scent of sex and sweat is so thick in the air that it's almost difficult to breathe. You lose track of how many times you come and how many times he works the rounded swell of his knot past your rim. The only sounds you know are the pleasured grunts and groans alongside the rapid filthy slap of slick scales on skin.

Full. You feel so full, all of your insides filled to bursting, coated with his sticky seed. You can't tell if the filthy slick sounds are from the slick gushing between you or the copious amount of seed sloshes inside you with every thrust. Everytime his knot pops free, it leaks from you in a long constant flow to cake your inner thighs and paint the bedding with a slick mess. He mourns the loss by adding more and more in an endless cycle.

As Levi's moments of awareness eventually begin to lengthen, you start to witness the stark contrast between the beast's intense, primal strength and the tender gentleness that emerges when he regains control. In those fleeting moments, he becomes a nurturing presence, focused on soothing and caring for you.

After his release, he immediately directs his attention to your well-being. With soft, careful licks, he tends to the nicks and cuts he's left on your skin, his tongue offering a soothing touch that promotes healing. His efforts extend beyond the surface wounds, as he seeks to ease the soreness that lingers in your thighs and core, bringing you comfort and relief.

However, the intimate act of his healing touch quickly reignites the fire within him. The surge of desire and the primal instincts that drive him overwhelm his control once again, leading to another passionate encounter. It becomes a cycle of tenderness followed by unrestrained passion, each phase intertwining in a dance of intensity and intimacy.

Despite the unpredictable nature of Levi's shifts between the beast and his gentle self, you find solace in the moments of tenderness he offers, cherishing the connection and care that shines through even amidst the raw, consuming desire.

By the end of the first day, Levi’s regained enough control to focus on basic needs. He insists that both of you eat some leftover deer, heat simmering in his eyes as he watches your throat bob with every swallow. His control snaps shortly after you eagerly gulp down some fresh water. With nighttimes soft starlight filtering softly through the entrance, the final time he fucks you is much slower, though no less frantic and heated.

In the aftermath of your intense encounter, Levi embraces you in a protective huddle of his scaly body and strong muscles. His presence is a comforting shield, offering a sense of security and warmth. You observe him as he quickly succumbs to a deep slumber, his usually alert and intense demeanor replaced by a profound exhaustion. It strikes you as odd to witness him in such a vulnerable and peaceful state, completely surrendered to sleep. Normally, he struggles so much. It’s a rare sight to witness him in such a vulnerable and peaceful state, completely surrendered to sleep. The sight warms your heart.

As you observe him snoring softly, warm puffs of air escaping his lips in a steady rhythm, your thumb instinctively finds the healed mark along the side of your throat. It serves as a constant reminder of the profound connection you now share. His. You're his now. His mate, a permanent, lifelong connection. Just the same, he's yours as well, even if you can't leave behind your own mark on his throat. You find solace in the fact that you’ve shared an intense connection that has left both of you physically and emotionally spent. As you drift off to sleep, nestled within his protective embrace, you feel a deep sense of contentment and safety, alongside soreness and satisfied exhaustion.

You awake to a gust of hot breath in your ear, resulting in a long shutter dragging down your spine. He's behind you, spooning you as he works the tip of himself past your rim. You're so soaked that he must have already mouthed you in preparation.

This time, he fucks you roughly, pulling one of your legs back up and over his hip with a tight clasp. This time, his knot doesn't swell. Instead, he plugs you with the tip of his tail. The entirety of your day is spent in a sticky, wet daze of pleasure.

After two long and intense days, Levi's heat finally subsides, the overwhelming waves of desire gradually diminishing. As the heat fades, a sense of relief washes over both of you, replacing the raw intensity with a calmness and a renewed sense of connection. The exhaustion from the passionate encounters lingers, leaving you both in need of rest and recovery. With the fading of his heat, a new phase of your relationship begins. An entirely new life, one with unknown twists and turns, lies just over the horizon.

[witchofthesouls]

OH MY STARS! WE TOTALLY NEED SOME WRITING OF BIRB JACK WITH SOUNDWAVE. :000

More AU of a Cyber!Earth!Au with the Darbys directly under Soundwave’s care.

The being that was once June Darby was a dangerous creature.

That ferity hadn't disappeared once he managed to coax her out of that endless dream. Within her, old human sensibilities of civilian life and civilization warred with the new instincts that were capable of devouring everything in its path.

Nor had Soundwave wanted to suppress those instincts fully. To tame them. No; it would serve them both well among the Decepticons and the strange, new world they were navigating. They needed to simply nurture the bridge and guide the process. Ease it.

The inhibition collar had done little to quell the microtransformations as she armed the edges of her robes with serrations, masking it with a deceptive gentleness as the sparklings hid by her legs whenever one of the more foolish mechs attempted anything.

(If anyone was stupid enough to think that June Darby was any less dangerous in a femme root-mode. That the collar was enough after her rampage across the ship as she hunted after her stolen child. It was their own passage to the Unmaker.)

Her son, Jack, echoed it.

Optics blown wide with the white pupil mechanisms drowned out everything else, the sparkling's frame shifted and rippled between the metal of shadowed hull and his own physical body as he mimicked the crooning birds perched upon his shoulder.

Croaking and chattering. A mix between organic ruffling feathers with metal plates sliding and soft transformation seams. It was difficult to discern between the sparkling and the birds. Only the multiple optics popped out of the seamless blend.

In the gleam of those dark, shiny optics, Soundwave saw the reflection of that strange robed figure.

Jack's mouth moved, but it wasn't words, just a spill of noise. Not even birdsong or a close mimicry. A mix of pattering rain, distant rolling thunder, and a gentle breeze through swaying branches.

The boy met his visor and seared into his mind was yellow robes standing within a clearing where many of the mining operations had disappeared. Something writhing behind them, dissected limbs with peeled musculature and fuel lines neatly entwined with one of the metal trees.

Soundwave quietly filed away the abomination that was Silas. Breakdown's paintjob, no matter the degradation, was a custom one by Knock Out's hands.

The spymaster kneeled down. He ignored the hissing birds as they ruffled up. What mattered was Jack's reaction, and Soundwave had poured so much work into ensuring his charge was comfortable in his presence. A careful prod to allow their EM fields to overlap. Jack didn't pull away as Soundwave anchored into his space, circling the sharp, bizarre notes as the birds became more distressed.

Jack's main attention was pinned to the distant figure calling for him (and his mother), but a small part still focused on Soundwave.

"Jack." Soundwave played out the haunting recording of June's many-layered voices of her monstrous alt-mode. "Jack. Jack. Jack. Where are you?"

The sparkling finally blinked. Connection severing. That grey-blue hue returned as he tentatively stepped into Soundwave's reach. He ignored the shrill squawking and crash of teeth and data-cables as Soundwave crushed the blackbirds and their foreign influence as Jack curled into his hold. Like a puppet with severed strings.

Luminosity hissed from the corner before barreling over, clambering across Soundwave's back-plating as she pushed her own quelling danger senses into them. She spoke in rapid squeaks and chirps, punctuated with hard flaps of her wingspan as Jack pressed himself deeper into Soundwave's hug. His mind jumbled in strange breaks as Jack attempted to reorder himself, and Soundwave gently reinforced the lowered mental defenses, sweeping away the scent of ashes and the boiling-freezing imprints.

Of course, the birds weren't real. Even with his speed and the sensation of crushing them, Soundwave felt only the walls of the ship.

[quaintobsessions]

The Last Thing To Call Your Own

Break a high window with a thick-feathered wing:

rapid entrancement lives close to the pane.

I'll let you in as my hot hands crush the night into slivers.

Alight inside.

Glower in what light evades rushed naked clouds

of amber scent, of self-destructive sparks, of night creatures

slowly arriving beneath high beams

sweeping your ocean voice.

Please tell me, will you take the risk again of drowning

in lust?

Let me come with you. Let me.

I forget blissful beginnings, but then I breathe I feel I understand so much more deeply toward the final thrust.

[happyk44]

Frank having really bad depersonalization moments and realizing he can ground himself if he changes. So sometimes he'll turn over in bed and tell Hazel, "I'm going to be a bear today" and she kisses the top of his head and says, "Okay" and they move around some furniture and bear-proof things they can't move, and Hazel opens up the deep freeze to let some raw meat thaw on the counter for later, and Frank shifts and changes into a bear, or wolf, or cat, any animal his fuzzy head tells him will relax the world into a shape close enough for him to recognize again.

And sometimes it's enough to just be what he needs to be, to lay on the floor, furry and huge, while Hazel scratches behind his ears and he rests.

And sometimes it's not enough, and they leave for forests and plains and wildlife, and he shifts and changes and walks around with the creatures that match him. After a while, some accept him as part of the grounp. They croon when he leaves with Hazel, who sometimes waits at a safe distance, watching her boyfriend give in to animal urges, and they howl and roar and growl when he comes back days, weeks, months later.

They know he's different, but they accept him anyway. They teach him like a newborn, how to run, how to walk, how to hunt, how to stalk, how to fly high about the trees, how to shoot down to the ground. When he's human, he reads, he studies. When he's not, he observes and copies.

It helps him, it grounds him, it pulls back the cotton wrapped around his mind, and when he looks at furry paws or sharp talons, he doesn't feel as out of place as he did before. When he digs in deep dirt, or splashes into clear waters, or stalks prey with inhuman precision, it settles him.

There's a sense of power that rumbles deep in his warfare blood. He is kind, and he is a child of Mars, protector, peacekeeper, father of the Roman people. He leads predators away when he is prey. He cares for the young when requested. He watches nests with unborn eggs to keep them safe from predators and other sneaky birds. Urges mediation between factions.

Then strikes blood and vicious when there is no choice but to bite. He is kind, but he is angry, and he will fight cruel and head-on if he must.

When the day is done, and it's time to sink away, he nuzzles softly and calls out with a throaty caw and shifts scales for skin, fur for hair, talons for nails, and settles at Hazel's side.

Sometimes she stays and watches. Sometimes she leaves and lets him be. But she always kisses his face before he runs off and kisses him when he comes back. She always smiles and asks, "How'd it go? Feeling good?"

If he murmurs, "yes", she squeezes his hands, and shadows whisk them away. If he murmurs, "no", she squeezes his hands, and shadows whisk them away, and he settles on hardwood floors with soft fur and Hazel's calloused hands scratching away behind his ears.

There's no true perfection. The world is always twisted. His reflection is always wrong. His skin is always strange.

But he breathes better when his mind whispers rapid for claws and fangs and feathers and he agrees. The fog in his head lightens when he shifts. The world becomes clearer.

Sometimes its better for him to stay human. His furry skin feels strange when he shifts to battle. His beak pulls weird at his mouth. He doesn't feel real when he's an animal. He looks for ways to get around the necessity for fighting, for infiltration, for spying.

Then sometimes its a requirement. He needs to sink into colourful scales and fast fins to be real. Turning his skin into brown fur and his nails to sharp claws is the only option to settle his crawling skin and foggy reflection. Sometimes hung across Hazel's shoulders as a snake is what saves him from the numbness of his emotions.

Sometimes shifting is the only thing that keeps him alive.

[lumilasi]

Lately, I've been trying to focus more on the world my characters live in, since I finally came up with a proper name for it. Now, my friend is a MASSIVE Godzilla fan (pun not intended) and she gave me an idea of a giant ass creature that could be like sort of special guardian of this planet.

(This also changes my character Spectra's lore quite a bit, but thats alright as I was going to give her a more detailed form eventually anyway, might as well do a story change too)

I don't often draw dragons, so this was a challenge. I wanted to add many light-based/inspired details for his design given who his creator/"mother" is, so his tail appears like northern lights, the spine is like this flaring sun corona, his wings glow etc. The crystalline "armor" parts would be due to his egg/the whole source of Ether's initial magic/life implementation being a crystalline meteorite that his moon egg is a chunk of.

More info about Vigoras below:

Vigoras has suspiciously many laser powers: His feather eyes can shoot rapid fire lasers, he can shoot Nova/supernova strength laser beams from his mouth, and can create another, massive laser blast by concentrating energy between his horns. Even his eyes can shoot burning beams of light. (Spectra's fellow cosmic siblings are concerned about her space laser enthusiasm....)

he can devour small stars and planets/moons, or break them with his tail whipping, though it is more common for him to use his giant lasers to push a star heading their way to a different trajectory, he rarely resorts to destroying other worlds.

He can use his moon egg pieces as shields and projectiles, and he can also reform the moon each time he goes back to sleep.

Vigoras actually has a humanoid form too apparently, but nobody has seen it but Spectra up to this point.

His moon-egg is slightly bigger than earth's moon (Roughly the size of Io in our solar system) and beneath the crystal surface is basically a massive ocean that he's floating at the center of, curled up into a ball.

His moon egg actually orbits the lush moon, where the Deities like Spectra live, alongside orbiting Ether.

Vigoras CAN "turn off" all his glowing parts and basically look invisible against the space background, apart from his 3 eyes that will always be visible

He can make himself smaller-sized, mainly done to visit his mother when he wants tea and snacks. (He's still kind of massive, in his smallest form his head alone is as big as a tank)

Personality can be summarized as; Serious, polite, easily mildly irritated sleepyhead momma's boy.

[edwinspaynes]

Happy International Cat Day! I couldn't resist writing a short Thomastair drabble about it :) I've really missed writing them, and this was so refreshing.

Read it on Ao3!

---

1905

“I cannot believe,” Alastair started in a dour tone, “that we agreed to look after this little hellion simply because your parents wished to go to Dublin for several long weeks. It is a wonder that they could not have brought the creature with them, considering how many ridiculously large bags your mother packed.”

Thomas smiled, stroking Cleocatra as she kneaded at his trousers. “You say this as though it were not your idea, amor,” he told his hamsar-am fondly. “I do believe that your exact words were ‘Thomas and I would be pleased to be of service,’ or something of that nature. You volunteered us both, if I am not mistaken.”

Alastair glared and shook his head. “Of that nature does not inspire me to believe that you are making a direct quotation.” He sighed. “I suppose that I must carry the burden of my words as quite the heavy regret, then.”

Thomas laughed brightly. “Simply because she does not wish to sit on you? Perhaps she believes that you squirm about too much.”

“You know as well as I do that I do not squirm,” Alastair reminded him.

“Right. Well, perhaps she does not wish to go on your lap because you elegantly resituate regularly.”

Alastair sighed. “I suppose. Well, I suppose I have nothing to lose by making another attempt. Cleo,” he said, leveling his gaze at Cleocatra. Thomas was amused by the sound that she made as she opened one eye to assess Alastair. It was a sort of half-curious purr, and combined with the rapid head-shake that she offered, it was in Thomas’s opinion adorable.

Judging by the upward quirk at the corners of Alastair’s mouth, he seemed to believe so as well.

Alastair held out a hand to Cleocatra, whose whiskers twitched. She sniffed him tentatively before putting her ears down and readjusting herself in Thomas’s lap.

“Well, then,” Alastair said. “I suppose that I am an eternal persona non grata from here on out, then. Unfortunate, that, as I am the one who came bearing the treats today.”

“I suppose,” Thomas agreed with a laugh.

“She seems to like me well enough when I wave that stupid teaser about in her face.”

“Well, she certainly likes the teaser.”

“More’s the pity for her. She seems staunchly unaware of its terrible orange hue. It is unholy.”

“Did you know,” Thomas said, still stroking Cleocatra’s gray head, “that cats are only able to detect shades yellow and blue? At least, that is what my mother says. But it seems that they mostly view the world in black and white regardless.”

“I suppose that colourblindness is the only decent explanation for enjoying orange feathers,” Alastair said. He reached out to scratch the cat’s chin, and Cleocatra purred as she leaned into Alastair’s touch.

“See?” Thomas’s voice was proud. “It is not as dismal as you believed. She likes you well enough, as she always has.”

Alastair sighed. “I suppose I shall go get the teaser abomination, then. Get back into her good graces.”

-

Alastair loved animals. He always had. And, as Thomas watched the love of his life wave a teaser in front of his old family cat, he felt a small spark of warmth settle in his heart.

Alastair coaxed Cleocatra close to him with the orange feather – Thomas did have to admit to himself that the shade was unfortunate, even if he did not wish to encourage Alastair’s affected grumpiness. But Alastair looked content as the cat jumped from Thomas’s lap and swatted at the feather, making the bell attached to the end of the stick ring softly.

“Silly moosh,” he grumbled as Cleocatra spun in circles. “Quite easily amused, aren’t you?”

“Once, she stared at a spot on the wall for five hours. Eugenia thought there might have been a ghost.”

“Did you tell her that she was being ridiculous?”

“No,” Thomas laughed. “I convinced her that there was, in fact, a ghost. And that the ghost was another cat. I was a rather devious ten-year-old.”

“I have never been prouder of you,” Alastair said approvingly.

Cleocatra, who was apparently unhappy that Alastair had stopped moving her teaser, jumped onto his lap and began to stretch out on his shoulder.

“You cannot really say anything,” Thomas grinned. “As you wanted so badly for her to sit on you.”

“Do shut up,” Alastair said good-naturedly, and Thomas could not help but laugh.

tsc taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @staywildefairchild @sourlemons262 @belle-keys @drunkonimagination @alastaircarstairsismybff @vwritesaus @claritywithclary @purplebass @what-ho-christopher-put-in @life-through-the-eyes-of @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @bluewrite @lulusofis @oursoulstheyplay @tessherongraystairs @athearaej @faithfromanewperspective @vwritesaus @imabitchforjemcarstairs @emmalovesfitzloved @daisymydaisycarstairs @fangirlghost-19 @angeldaisies @celias @hanelizabeth @fangirlghost-19 @tiredandoptimistic

[occasionaltouhou]

Hope you’re having a good day!

Does Aka’s new body, especially her larger wings, create problems in the Yakumo household? As Aka is not one to put her wings away, would she knock over things often? Or leave feathers everywhere?

what are you talking about? her body's always been this shape, and she's always been in this house. she's completely used to it! (heh)

the answer is that yukari's home is already kind of an utter mess (cat owner) so adding one more new type of creature to it doesn't cause as much chaos as one would expect. there's feathers, but you're adding feathers on top of fur and scales and whatever else anyway. nobody really cleans it because yukari doesn't care enough

that's kind of a boring answer, so i'll say that when she does her rapid acceleration schmovement to hit her top flying speed in seconds, she leaves a fluffy of feathers behind her.

[soulsoffairlight]

I love your Radley fanarts! What's the au about?

1. THANK YOU SO MUCH

2. THANK YOU SO MUCH x2 FOR ASKING ME THIS QUESTION AND ENCOURAGING ME TO COME OUT OF MY SHELL

I'm so happy to see that people are interested in my au!!!

I haven't developed it fully, but I can give you what I have so far!!

Warning: yapfest ahead

Note: this is like, a draft of the backstory ig? So it's not done, it may not fit canon much, and characters like Sarge and the baddies aren't present yet

Tl;dr: radley but he's more biology science oriented than tech science oriented and adopted radlynn ig?

I should start off by introducing the general au itself. 'Avidra' is a large worldbuilding/multifandom AU project I've had for years on end, and the project itself is far too bit to explain fully 😭, but one of the main catches is that there is a race of shapeshifter living amongst humans in the au known as 'Tierkno' (TYAIR - knah). In addition, Avidra is the 'singular universe,' where gods from all over the multiverse came together to rule one world after the brain-death of one all-powerful God who left an empty universe behind. As far as Radley and Radlynn go in the flipline section of the AU, that's just about all the Avidra context you need.

In this au, Radley was only one of a group of 'superior Radishes,' aka his family. What set these Radishes out from the rest is that they held a mutation that allowed them to carry cambiregen (essentially the hormone that allows Tierkno to shapeshift), allowing them to take on a humanoid appearance and gain human intelligence, unlike their 'wild' counterparts, the radish enemies we see in the games.

These Radishes, living on one of Avidra's moons known as Calyx, fought fiercely with the headworld of Avidra in an attempt to overthrow them and restart the universe completely from scratch. They believed that if they could wipe out Avidra and return to it to its initial state of vast emptiness, they could build what they believed to be the 'optimal universe.'

However, in order to protect Avidra from this mass destruction (threatened by the technology these Radishes had), the head goddess of Avidra, named Oblivion, sent a mass freeze to the moon of Calyx... wiping out the 'superior Radishes' in the process... all except for one.

And that was Radley.

Everything was gone, it seemed. He felt lost and aimless, having nothing to refer to that could help him pick up again ... and he thought he lost all hope. That was, until, he found one of Oblivion's feathers that had been dropped. He quickly found out that this feather gave him the ability to open a portal to Avidra itself... and that there pretty much saved his entire life. With this, he could find a way to thaw the thick layer of ice that had frozen over the underground lab that the Radishes used. And at the time, that was his only priority.

He was able to safely shelter himself in the lab, and read up on the resources left behind. And as that happened, the freeze finally came to an end. The other creatures the Radishes had shared the moon with began to restore, and it made Radley wonder. What was life like in Avidra?

He quickly designed himself a disguise to blend in so he could make way to Avidra again, this time to observe the life that was there, taking some specimens home as well. He saw the plants there that just sat in the ground, seemingly lifeless... and it made him think about his family's original goal. If the plants were so... lifeless here, unlike himself and his smaller counterparts... then something must be wrong.

Radley's knowledge of life on Avidra grew increasingly complete. He was able to teach himself how to read... and at rapid rates as well due to his nature as a plant. He studied all sorts of specimen he could find, mostly insects, reptiles, and these... lifeless plants. He learned that his ability to 'see' was not what sight truly was at all, and that he relied on a combination of gravitropism, phototropism, and sometimes tactile methods (using roots) to observe his surroundings. And that was when he realized that just maybe the answer to his fallen family's goal was hidden in Avidra's life. So many species with so many abilities... maybe he just needed to find a way to gain these abilities. And with the resources left behind, he was able to pick up the pieces and do just that.

Using a method that was sort of slow yet extremely effective, Radley began to apply the DnA of some species he found to himself. He took some plants he found thriving in caves without any light and took some of their traits, and he found that he could photosynthesize without any light. He then found some ants and took their traits, later finding himself able to lift extremely heavy objects with ease. Finally, he found a lizard and took its traits, and he grew sharper teeth and claws, alongside a long, vine-like tail similar to the leaves on his head. It was then that he knew what he was called to do: become the 'ideal organism' and take over Avidra, just like the Radishes intended.

As he started to move toward human and Tierkno civilizations for observations, he noticed that they had a much easier time performing close combat... meanwhile, he could only really fight from a range, as his poor vision didn't allow for much. Then he saw Tierkno... and he knew they were perfect. If he could get one in his possession, apply his own DnA to them, thus passing all his mutated abilities in the process, he could have someone to assist him in not only close attacks when needed with access to the abilities he already has, but to blend in with the rest.

He continued to watch silently from afar, until one day he spotted a blind, seemingly tierkno, 9-year-old girl named Aster sitting next to some crates containing specimens he was trying to take back home with him. And he thought that was a perfect opportunity. If he just cured this girl's blindness, he'd gain her trust like the flip of a switch... and he could go through with his plan. He had already been doing research on how to care for tierkno.

He approached Aster, and he told her that if she could just sit and guard the crates for just a few more hours, he'd cure her blindness. The girl, whose life had seemingly crumbled apart since she became blind, took on the request without question. Soon, Radley took the tierkno back to Calyx to give her what he promised... and to take her under his wing. As Aster vanished, her brother, Zak, noticed near immediately.

Radley did end up curing her blindness with a method he'd found in the resources his family had left behind. And Aster was overjoyed. She became extremely loyal to him, and he felt some sort of connection to her... a familiar one. And so he adopted her, and together they agreed that her name from then on would be Radlynn.

Radley raised Radlynn, educating her and caring for her the best as he possibly could. But one day, when Radlynn accidentally cut her arm on a sharp rock, leaving a deep gash and didn't notice, Radley realized that there was a side effect to this method he didn't consider. Testing his theories, he took her in to stitch up the wounds without any form of numbing or something of the likes. While she was really scared about it, she... wasn't feeling any pain. This was pretty dangerous for her... but at the same time, it would make his plans significantly easier. He figured that if he watched her very closely to make sure she didn't get hurt, he could keep her safe while still keeping that side effect.

From that point on, the plan began to unfold. It began with some smaller experiments to slowly funnel into the main one-- Radlynn was scared, but not unwilling. It started with him applying small genetic samples of a certain Tierkno species he had managed to get his hands on, and she grew scenting glands on her neck and arms that she could use to recreate just about any scent-- a unique ability of this species that had piqued his interest. He was fascinated. He trained her to control it.

His next experiment was definitely more stressful for Radlynn-- but again, she was determined to push through for him. He replaced her left forearm with a false one-- something left behind by his family. It could easily be disguised as a real one and functioned just like one, even being able to experience touch, except it was bionic and had extremely sharp claws. Radlynn adapted quickly and was even able to teach herself some interesting strategies with it, something he was very impressed by.

Everything seemed to be going well until the main experiment finally took place. When he applied his own DnA to give her a radish form, it worked... to extents beyond his intentions. The cambiregen (reminder: tierkno hormones giving them ability to shapeshift) had combined with this DnA aggressively, and he accidentally created a reckless, 10-foot-tall beast that tried to attack him. He was quick to corner her, but he still started to panic. But then he got an idea. He was able to gain control over the beast by tricking it into falling into obedience any time he said the name "Aster" to it. And it worked. He had turned a dangerous mistake around to his favor. He spent weeks training Radlynn and her new form, and everything was going just as planned.

Hearing of a group of people that had a life force surplus that he could take advantage of (Papa louie and em), he set that as his first target. He sent Radlynn to capture Papa Louie and his customers+workers, and she was a fierce fighter. She managed to capture every single one... except for three. That was Ember, Olivia, and Hacky Zak (her brother). These 3 had unique abilities that allowed them to resist capture, for they were Monster (yes, msm) tierkno. Olivia, the Humbug tierkno, could simply zip into another dimension to escape, and she could pull Hacky into one as well regardless of where he was due to some sort of mind link. Meanwhile, Ember was some sort of Fire monster (not a tierkno, just straight up monater) similar to a Candelavra made of wax that could reach temperatures of up to 3,000+ °F giving that conditions could allowed, and she could take the shape of practically anything (she had decided to take on a human form and use her resistance to fire to help save people.) And so, these 3, having an ability to communicate through a dimension only accessible by Monsters, teamed up to rescue everyone... including Radlynn.

Olivia and Ember had a rough time trying to simply free everyone, much less get to Radley.. because of Radlynn. She was a fierce fighter with overwhelming indurance and a bold attitude that refused to step down.

But when Hacky came about, everything changed. Memories of the life she had left behind had hit her like a train wreck. She hadn't seen him in years. She was 9 when she last saw him ... and she had just turned 19. 10 whole years.

The three were able to contain Radlynn as they freed everyone and eventually fought Madish, resulting in his defeat... while poor Radlynn watched.

He was someone so important to her... so of course, she snapped. She morphed into her radish form, screeching and destroying things in the area in enraged grief. Everyone was horrified, and they were convinced they'd just die right then and there.

Until Hacky called out her real name, and the beast fell still for a few seconds... before it approached him slowly, falling to his feet.

... while Hacky still really hated Madish for what he'd done to her ... he had to admit, he was a really good father.

After word had spread of the rescue, a group known as Starlane assisted Radlynn in starting her life up again.

They were impressed with the amount of education she had received behind closed doors despite being gone for so long, and determined her ready for college. She was moved into an apartment with a new roommate named Elaine who still supports her through her healing process to this day. As Radlynn realized that her ability to see took away her ability to feel pain, she began to cover her eyes at all times and adjust to getting around without sight. Being blind was much better than not being able to feel pain, she realized. She began to study horticulture in college… and while she still misses Radley dearly and is still healing from the traumatic memories she has of the experiments, she’s made significant progress in adjusting to her new life. She still has long ways to go, but that doesn’t stop her. She lives the large chunk of her teen years she didn’t get to live through her youthful enthusiasm, and many find her to be a beacon of nothing but good vibes.

So yeah, that's the backstory so far!! I hope you like it :3 and a fun Lil piece of trivia, it was heavily inspired by the Powerman 5000 album "Tonight The Stars Revolt," particularly this song:

[momiji-bookhouse]

can i request violetgrass and kazuha for the spring event?

[Violetgrass]: "Why do you love me?" "How much time do you have?"

Event Masterlist

pairing: Kaedehara Kazuha x gn!reader

genre: fluff

a/n: after more than a year and intense procrastination, all of the prompts for the spring event is finally finished. Time to go back to my other requests╰(*°▽°*)╯

Everyone knows that words are Kazuha's forte.

It wouldn't be a normal day on the Alcor if the crew didn't hear him offers some poetic musings about the world or paints the scenery with soft verses and ballads.

His partner's teeth will be spoiled rotten with his sweet tongue, they would tease.

There is indeed truth to their words (Archons knows they have to listen to him gush about you enough already, even when he tries to disguise it in gossamer metaphors and imagery) but Kazuha does not rely on words alone. He finds that words unaccompanied with sincerity and related actions tend to become lifeless and bitter to the taste.

So while he will undoubtedly wax poetry about you (for you are his greatest muse) he will also not hesitate to press feather-light kisses to your temple when your eyes are drowsy, hug you as soon as you open your arms, and captures your lips with his.

He has everything about you committed to memory, from your likes and dislikes to how you like your food to be served to what would help you sleep the fastest. Even then, he would trace your lines and angles with his hands like he's trying to permanently map your image into his mind.

In his thinking, there's never any limit to the affection that he will convey to you, but this question of yours have led him to wonder if he had not done enough.

"Why do you love me?"

Kazuha blinks once, twice, and even thrice in rapid succession. A mix of confusion and worry fills his thoughts as he tries to make sense of the situation.

"My love, may I ask if there is...a particular reason for this question?" He begins tentatively.

"...Yes? Maybe? I think?" Your face twists as a reluctant sigh escapes you. "It's stupid, isn't it?"

He immediately shakes his head. "No, no, not at all. I just want to understand where this sentiment may have come from."

"I don't know." You slide your hands down your cheeks. "I don't know what I've been thinking. I didn't want to mean that I don't believe you either. But I guess I've just been lonely? And maybe a little afraid, too."

"Afraid of what, my love?"

"That maybe some day you'll find someone better than me."

Kazuha's insides twist into a painful knot, his heart flipping upside down at the vulnerable expression on your face. He's aware that dating a sailor isn't the easiest thing in the world. A life at sea isn't for the faint of heart. There is no way of knowing exactly when they will be able to return home, and while there is no telling what can be lurking among the deceptive azure sea, creatures of the deep aren't the only things sailors need to be wary of. There's always the looming threat of being swallowed by the cruel ocean, their remains either washed away by the foamy waves or consumed by the murky depths. There are also those who has taken on the habit of finding comfort in foreign shores, even when their pockets are filled with tender letters.

A sudden flash of guilt grabs hold of him, even though he has never and will never cheat on you (he would rather commit seppuku a hundred times over). It has to do more with the realization that he hasn't take notice sooner.

"There is no one else," he says in resolution. "I could travel this whole continent, and no one else would be able to captivate me as you have." He takes a hold of your hand, his eyes searching yours with earnest. "You ask why do I love you, but my question for you is how much time do you have to hear me proclaim the depths of my emotions? Shall I tell you how I look for the color of your eyes in nature, and yet for all its vastness nothing can compare to their beauty? Shall I tell you how I try to put your likeness into poetry, all proving to be inadequate to portray the brightness of your soul? Watch as my heart beats to the sound of your name, as my ears ring to the cadence of your laughter, as my eyes trace your visage into the stars every night. Do you wish for me to tell you how enraptured I am every time you speak, whether it's when you're talking about your day or something you're passionate about. Do you wish to know that I kept all of the letters you've sent me, thumbing over each syllable just to imagine your sweet voice right there beside me?"

"Kazuha! That's—" Your face is beet red right now, your heart pounding erratically at his words. "That's enough, I think."

"Oh, but it's not enough, my dove. This has not even scratched the surface of everything that I want to say. Or perhaps you would like me to show it to you with my actions instead?" His maple irises sparkle with intent, the kind that makes you unintentionally swallow.

In the end, Kazuha does more than enough to convince you of his love. And if he happens to achieve that with actions of a more...ardent nature, then well, that's no one else's business but yours.