#honestly felt this was a few different prompts but I was aiming for the ones listed

[ninjigma]

QuinFox Week Part 2/7 - First / Next

Day 2: Dance With Me + First Date Track: 'Paint It Black' - Wednesday Addams (Spotify / YouTube)

"This is not part of the plan."

Quinlan grinned. He couldn't help it, the situation and the way Fox was trying so desperately to figure out how to dance without admitting anything was too amusing.

"Maybe, but every good plan is adaptable."

"And what exactly are we adapting for?"

Quinlan's hand gently pressed against Fox's side, encouraging him to begin a movement that would carry them left. Learning quickly, Fox followed, his feet starting to fall more naturally as they continued.

"Here, you have to follow my feet, not mimic them," Quinlan slowed to a half pace, still fast enough to blend in with the fast stringed music but slow enough that Fox would have a chance.

He was unable to see any blush or real expression past the mask Fox wore, but he could sense the slight tension of the Commander trying to do as directed. That and the lack of a quip showed that this was something Fox did not want to dwell on long, though Quinlan noted he followed the instructions perfectly.

"Overheard something was being unveiled tonight and I have to stay and find out," Quinlan offered in a rushed voice, trying not to get lost in watching Fox move. "You head out, can wait at the safehouse if you want, but this is Jedi related, so you don't need to be involved and one of us needs to make sure that information gets back."

The way Fox tilted his head forward and looked up through thick lashes was filled with fire. In short, he was not pleased at all.

"The mission-"

"Doesn't include putting you at risk for something unplanned and unrelated." Quinlan shrugged, kept a smirk plastered in place as he spoke the official line with ease. A way to keep Fox out of things.

"This room is filled with more Separatists than our intel informed us, and they already seem suspicious. Plus, we are already running out of time until they notice the information is gone. You can't stay. We have what we came for, we should leave."

Fox was correct, but Quinlan knew it couldn't be so. He had to get his hands on what he overheard. Failing that he would destroy it. Kept in a museum or not, he knew the artifact would be too dangerous to just leave behind, especially in separatist and therefore Sith territory.

"Fox," he sighed, face becoming uncharacteristically soft. "I am sure I'll be fine. You can wait in the safe house then and I will be quick. For now just enjoy being my date, yeah?"

Fox was quiet.

Quinlan watched him sway, curving and moving easily in sync with him now. He was assessing things, weighing options that Quinlan knew from experience he should not say a word about until Fox was done, which also meant until Fox had made his decision and wouldn't be swayed anyhow. It spoke of the man's determination and wit, and Quinlan thought highly of him for it, respecting how the clone choose to do things. And more privately he thought it matched the Fox inspired outfit he had chosen quite handsomely.

"Just so you know, before you rush off to be an idiot," Fox's voice was even, measured, didn't truly allow Quinlan a read besides Fox was potentially agreeing to do what Quinlan said. "This is a lousy first date."

Quinlan snickered and spun them a bit faster with the tempo, eyes subconsciously watching for any new signs of his quarry. "What do you mean first? What about all the times I bring you food or travel with you?"

"You sneak me food," Fox corrected, nose now turned upward. It was the much more familiar dance between them, and Quinlan was privately relieved for it and this meant Fox had fully relented, he would be safe soon. "And I only travel with you for missions. This is the first time you have deviated so far it is a whole different direction, and have specifically used the word date. So I am telling you, a double heist in a museum's masquerade gala full of separatists that would love to see us both dead is not a good first date. Horrible even."

Quinlan swayed closer, pressed more fully into Fox like he had his own gravitational pull. "Come on Foxie, we both know the only issue you really have with this as a date is because I called it one."

Commander Fox, the brilliant, cunning, mischievous man he was, didn't offer any response. But Quinlan noted with pride the slightest upturn to his lips.

@foxquinweek

[savebatswingaus]

Scuffle on the sand dunes - 3rd Life SMP fic

Fic in the link or under the cut. :3 This too is a repost

Summary:

Grian is running from the Red Winter Prompt: Escape / flight / hiding Tw/Cws: Violence, referenced death, sort of implied shipping (Scarian)

Notes:

THERE IS NO WING INJURY!! (Needed to mention because there are plenty of otherwise great fics that I can't read due to not knowing if they contain my one and only trigger. *sigh*) Tw/Cws: Violence, referenced death, sort of implied shipping (Scarian) Words: 1,203

Grian panted as he ran, wings half extended as he tried to find a good place to take off from. The red army had been on his tail for at least a mile now, and though it was clear that both parties were tiring, neither seemed to be giving up so easily. (Curse this land! He had never been best friends with any of the red winter, but he had never been on bad terms either, what had this awful place done to them?)

He hopped over a pile of gravel, flapping his wings to send himself over the three there were. (But not quite flying yet, he would be too good of an arrow target so close for the others.) He heard Ren make a short yell of anger as he had to dodge around the blocks, for, even though it was only a few blocks of difference, he was fully armored and having trouble running in the sand, and this kept him behind by quite a lot.

Legs shaking with the effort to keep running, Grian powered on, hair and feathers flapping in the wind to join the bursts of sand that rose from his steps. He was tired, and he didn’t want to keep going, but the fear of death kept him running. Jumping around cactuses and over casums. (Every move slowed more and more of the group following him, though he did notice that Martyn was gaining. Those short-ish legs sure packed a powerful jump.) 

This didn’t make him feel very good. 

Martyn had already proved that he was willing to kill for Ren, even if it meant leaving him at a red life in the middle of a permadeath situation. (And it was obvious why the drops of sweat had escalated in amount, now not only was Grian tired almost to death and in the middle of a desert, but also not able to throw off one of the only Red Winter members he truly believed to be capable of murder.) But as it turned out, he didn’t have to run much longer, for he had spotted a good place to start flying. 

Grian felt a smile dawn on his lips as reached the edge of a dune, knowing that the extra space to flap his wings was always wanted in a high speed flying chase. (Much easier to take off if you weren’t either awkwardly fluttering or hitting your wings on the ground.) He braced himself for only a moment, so as to spread his wings and set up his jump. He would have wanted more time, but Martyn’s breath was now clearly audible, and as Grian jumped and beat his wings downward, he felt a hand catch around his ankle.

He screamed as he was dragged down, body hitting the soft sand with a loud pompf sort of noise. But he wasn’t paying attention to the honestly humorous sound of him hitting the ground, because he was too busy dodging the stomping feet being aimed at his head. He rolled from side to side, sand clogging his feathers and sticking to his sweatshirt as he struggled to get away from his attacker. But due to Martyn having a foot on either side of him, he wasn’t able to go very far in either direction. In fact, due to this, the man’s diamond boot came down on the center of his forearm. Pain instantly bloomed in a way that told Grian that he was going to have a bruise soon. 

Retaliating, he flailed out to either side, hoping to unbalance Martyn with one of his wings. On the first try, it didn’t work, Martyn instead reaching down to grab one of them, intending to hold him in place by it. . . .But this didn’t end up working for him, because the second the grimy finger of his enemy touched the red-brown fingers, Grian flailed again. 

This try was more successful, half due to how unbalanced Martyn had become (what with bending over to hold a wing in place) and half due to the panic caused by said grabbing-of-wing. Grian shoved Martyn off of him and hopped up to his feet. Listening to the angry shout from a now nearby Etho as Martyn tripped over the wing he had previously been holding. But Grian could not watch him fall, he had to get out of here. 

And so, he dove after Martyn, spreading his wings and gliding a few feet before beating the feather covered limbs downwards. (Arms and legs close to his body as he anticipated the change in speed he was about to experience.)

Instantly, he shot upwards, two small clouds of sand sparking up after him, momentarily blinding Etho as the polar bear hybrid caught up with him. Grian felt an instant relaxing of his legs as he began to spiral farther upward. (Hoping to get above cloud cover, and therefore out of bow range.) Below him, he could hear Martyn yelling angrily as he slid down the hill, and Grian could imagine the dune crumbling slightly as he fell down it. ‘Serves you right,’ he hissed to himself, still steadily climbing, ‘That’s what you get for chasing me for so long.’

Of course, Etho was smart enough to pull out his bow and begin firing, but due to Grian anticipating the move, the arrows didn’t do much to slow him down. (One whizzed past his face so close that it nearly took off his ear.) 

But Grian did manage to escape eventually, the ear shattering shrieks of anger from the Red Army muffling after him as he dove into a cloud. Internally, he did know that he wouldn’t be able to get much farther, as the air had begun to thin, and his already tired body just didn’t need to deal with that right now, but externally, the cold weight of the water droplets felt rather nice. 

He knew he should probably fly as far away as possible, but due to the ache in his wings (especially the one that he had overturned Martyn with) he knew that he was going to have to rest soon. It wouldn’t cause any long term damage, no not at all, but Grian was smart enough to overwork himself. Unlike how Ren treated those below him. The robin hybrid scoffed at that, Ren obviously did not understand the way that muscles worked, if he had, then Grian wouldn’t even be in this situation in the first place.

What did they all agree to do in this world? Collaborate to find a way out? Yeah, that plan hadn’t worked out. It should have been rather easy to just keep together, but here they were, chasing each other with Power Three bows and Sharpness Five swords. Grian scoffed at this too, ignoring the fact that he had been a major part of the decay of the normality in their group. (If he didn’t think about it, it wouldn’t be real.)

Instead, Grian shifted his path to that of his and Scar’s base, excited to tell him about his little scuffle on the sand dunes. (And inform him to maybe be more careful who he stole the pants off of.)

Notes:

This is sort of awful and only two pages in my google doc but whatever. (But I hope you liked it anyway!)

[kvibe-test]

Revolutionizing Blogging: Blogrify's Journey to Success

The journey of building Blogrify has been an exhilarating roller coaster ride for me and the rest of the team. It all started with a simple idea: streamlining the blogging process with AI to make content creation easier and more personal. Honestly, my initial concept was far from polished. The very first version was built using Google Sheets. We had a crude setup where users could input their content, and it would be processed into blog posts. It was a humble but essential starting point.

In those early days, Google Sheets felt like a playground where we tested the basic premise. Our aim was to move quickly, iterate frequently, and see what worked. However, it didn't take long for us to hit the limitations of using such a basic tool for our ambitions.

Moving to More Sophisticated Platforms

Realizing we needed a more robust system, we transitioned to more advanced platforms like Caspio. Let me tell you, the switch was night and day. Caspio gave us a versatile database program with these things called data pages. Essentially, they're like forms you can embed on a website. This allowed us to create a much more dynamic and user-friendly experience. Users could now log in, see all their scheduled content, edit it, and publish it with just a few clicks.

I remember the first time we rolled out this new version to a few test clients. The feedback was overwhelmingly positive, and it felt like we had finally hit on something special. However, the journey was far from over. Transitioning from a primitive setup to a sophisticated platform is not just about adding features; it’s also about addressing bugs and refining the user experience. I spent nearly 50% of my days bug fixing. Despite the headaches, it was gratifying to see the product evolve.

The Challenges and Feats

Building Blogrify was not without its challenges. One of the significant ones was personalizing the AI to fit the clients' needs precisely. Given that AI doesn't know everything about a user, ensuring the text felt authentic and valuable was a tough nut to crack. We had to feed the AI different kinds of prompts and continuously refine its algorithms to get the best results. In essence, every hurdle made us better.

Around the same time, we started exploring different avenues. We looked into how our technology could also convert audio files, like podcasts, into written blog posts automatically. Imagine uploading a podcast episode and getting a ready-made blog post that captures the essence of the conversation. We even toyed with creating AI voices to generate podcasts from written prompts. That was a whole different beast, but the potential was exciting.

Marketing and Growth

We knew we had a solid product, but the next critical step was letting people know it existed. Marketing strategies came into play. We developed a three-tier pricing system: $25, $50, and $75. For as low as $25, clients could get three posts a week. It was a steal considering the time and cost savings. Before long, we had our first few clients. They were small companies, friends of our CEO, but they loved the product and saw immediate value in it. It was a moment of validation for all of us.

We also took part in various networking events to get the word out. One memorable event was a FIFA networking event. Our CEO Qua was lobbying hard to get Blogrify recognized within the landscape, especially since the 2026 FIFA World Cup final will be held in New Jersey. Although not many people visited our stand, the experience was priceless. It felt good to represent Blogrify and talk about something I genuinely believed in.

Another breakthrough was moving away from our initial company name, which was, quite frankly, pretty lame. Qua came up with the name Blogrify, and it resonated instantly. Within a week, we had set up a new website and all our social media pages. We also began using Blogrify for our own content, which was both practical and a testament to our confidence in the product.

Fast forward to now, and we've rolled out version four of Blogrify. We have over 16 clients and counting, which is pretty impressive considering we started just ten weeks ago. Looking back, it’s incredible to see how far we've come. What began as a primitive concept on Google Sheets has grown into a sophisticated, multi-functional platform that helps various brands and individuals create compelling content.

With new features and continuous improvement on the horizon, the future looks promising for Blogrify. Personally, this journey has been an excellent learning experience, one that’s taught me the value of perseverance and adaptation. As I approach the end of my internship, I’m excited about what’s next. There's talk of a part-time position at KVIBE, and honestly, I'd love to continue working on Blogrify and reach even greater heights.

The journey from concept to launch has been a whirlwind, but it's one I wouldn’t trade for anything. Here’s to many more innovations and breakthroughs as we continue to improve and grow Blogrify.

#AI #BloggingTool #ProductLaunch #TechJourney

[galacticexevt]

OC Prompt/Ask

Hi guys! I have another short writing piece to share with you all! I am so proud how this one turned out. I enjoyed writing this so much that I decided to make another version in a different POV. I should be able to share that one within the next week or so as I still need to make a few edits and corrections.

Just as a small heads up, this mini story alludes to chapter three of Galactic's lore- which is still a work in progress. There might be a few spoilers or a couple of things that might be a little confusing without context. Hopefully, this should still be an easy read and make sense within the prompt itself. Prompt: Who was/is your OC's first enemy? What was/is that relationship like? Do they still consider that person an enemy? Or have they moved past that? (Galactic regarding Bishop)

Uhm, I think I might have to give that award to Bishop. She and I don't go around holdin' hands, frolicking through flowers and making friendship bracelets. Nah, nah, nah; it's that on-sight, anywhere and everywhere kinda of relationship. 

So, lemme back it up a bit; this all started with me fallin' for one of Maelstrom's traps set up by Bishop. Honestly, I should've seen it comin'; it was a pretty...blatant setup thinkin' back on it; be we don't talk about my terrible perception, Kohren still gives me shit for it. 

It was just supposed to be a simple shipment heist, nothin' I ain't familiar with. Just grab the goods and bounce back to Kohren's shop. Easy peasy, right? Wrong. When I arrived at the shipment site, the next thing I knew, I was surrounded by at least twelve armed mercs, and a buncha red dots were aimed at my body. 

No biggie, I've dealt with Maelstrom's mercenaries before when I pulled off smaller heists, and they usually aren't hell-bent on catching just one person; more like they don't get paid enough to do so. Anyways, they typically aren't hard to take down; most of them don't know how to operate their own weapons- poor fuckers. So, you'd think this fight would go off without a hitch, right? Wrong again!

I don't know if they sent out some new special forces or some shit, but these guys were armed to the teeth. They had weaponry that I had never seen before- and should know what kinda weapons they have! I steal them all the time! And don't get me started on their armor. My funky-fun-gun was no match for it. Not even halfway into the ambush, the power cells in my gun ran out, and Kohren hates it when I use my more...volatile methods of fighting, but in my defense, I was being ganged up on by Maelstrom merc's! I had no other choice! 

And besides, it was a solo mission; what a perfect excuse to let off some steam without the old man baggerin' me. So ya boy let loose, and oh fuck was it a rush, alright. I finally got to break out the new explosives I have been fucking with, and while they are definitely still in the testing phase, I also didn't bother labeling which is which, so each time one went off, it was like a bit of surprise gift for me and those poor Maelstrom mercs. 

I was damn near able to grab the shipment and make my way out until I felt a sharp pain in the back of my neck. A dart. A mother-fucking dart. It felt like I got a direct injection of the most potent drugs in the slums; I swear to fucking god, everything was moving in slow motion. I tried to kick on my hover shoes, but it felt like there were weights tied to me, and I couldn't get them to kick start. In a damn near shroom-induced state, I threw one last grenade I had in my jacket pocket...and...the last thing I remember hearing was a blood-curdling scream. And the last thing I felt was another dart in my side. 

I had no fucking clue how long I had been out, but when I woke up, it felt like I got resurrected from the dead; I had cold sweats in places I never knew could sweat. And I was greeted with the most angry-lookin' women I've ever seen in my whole 200 years of existence. She was coated with blood and nasty gashes; judging by the singed Maelstrom uniform, she must've been one of the lucky motherfuckers who survived the fight...and definitely wasn't happy to see my face, but she was more than happy to take her aggression out on it. 

She...she straight up tortured me- for what felt like fuckin' hours. That woman packs a severe punch- I swear I didn't have a snoring problem until her fist had VIP access to my nose. She damn near beat me 'till I turned purple; shit was brutal. But it didn't stop there; she had some of her science nerds whip up some kinda injection, and whatever it was...fucked my body up. It felt like I was burning from the inside out, I was coughing up blood, and my mouth was fucking foaming...just...awful...fucking awful...

Kohren managed to track down my current location, usin' one of his funky lil' drones, knocked out the building's primary power source, and blew up an exit for me. Despite being beaten to a pulp, I managed to get my lick back on her. I wasn't about to leave the scene, not having the last laugh. 

Despite being drugged to hell and back, I managed to knock her out to make my escape. She was already pretty banged up from the earlier fight, and her murderous adrenaline rush ran out. 

I reckon the takeaway from all of this is that we both struck a deep nerve within each other. I took the lives of some of Bishop's colleagues...she is within her right to want me dead. And the fucking torture she put me through...I wish the same upon her, too, I suppose...  

[the99thchapter]

50

I have feelings for someone. But our worlds are different.

So I'm writing this entry now in hopes that one day, I can look back at this with fond memories.

If my memory serves me right, I met him for the first time in April 2023. It was a religious event held in the month of Ramadhan. April 2023 was not a good month to me, emotionally (hint: previous entries). I was in a perturbed state of mind and I was trying to find peace. I went to an event and I saw him then.

We were surrounded by kids - it was a kids' event. He was a facilitator of some sort - helping another person to conduct the event. We learnt how to fold ketupat - and he folded one for me. What transpired this was he asked if I could fold one and I admitted miserably that I was terrible at it, which prompted the aid.

That's honestly all I could remember. I knew I felt the attraction kicking in when I witnessed him playing around with the kids before the event started. I was in awe. Now I do not particularly 'like' kids because of their rowdiness - but I enjoyed watching their interaction. I knew then that I will develop feelings for this man, however awkward it may be. According to atiqah, I was 'checking' him out. Was i?

I went back home and reflected upon it. Then a phone call with my best friend happened where I inadvertently blurted out my attraction. Yes, I want to know more about him. Yes, I did cry over the possibilities of getting rejected without trying. I have a lot of insecurities which was why I had felt that way. But a few weeks later I received a wellness call from him. I was high in delirium over hearing his crisp voice over the phone. The sound quality was miraculously good - his voice tickled my ear (virtually?). It gave me butterflies. I was smitten.

Then months passed. Those feelings died down.

But August 2023 happened.

We worked on a project together. Two projects.

We talked business on Telegram. I kept my words as formal as possible. I toned down my usual demeanor because i refused to show a tinge of excitement. The feelings gradually came back, this time stronger than before. I found out from my bestfriend that he had harbored potential feelings for me before - the same time i developed an attraction to him. Wild. I was over the moon.

The final straw occurred when our team went down to the mosque for a physical meeting. I was acting like an idiot in love. I fumbled with my marketing presentation but all I could remember was the looks he gave me. Was I delusional? Seeing things that I wanted to see?

My favourite genre is modern-day romance. strangers to friends to lovers. lovers to exes to lovers again. The point is I want one of those bookish love stories. I want a page in a romance novel.

I don't know him on a friendship basis. This is my dilemma. How do I enter the friendship territory before aiming for what I want? I want him. To look at me. Like he's so in love with me.

Because I am a girl, who harbors this silly little crush, on a guy that she's not on 'friendly-friend' terms with.

He is the one. I know it. But if I don't take a step forward..he will slip away. All that's left is the unrequited side of feelings.

2024 Update: He's married. These said feelings have long gone by now. Every time i scroll through this post, I want to throw up. But I can't delete this entry because of the sequence. So future me, don't show this to anyone. I beg of you. I beg of us.

[romirola]

56 with sam/darlin please🤭

Hi Anon! Thanks for your request! Hope you enjoy!

Rating: G, WC:~1K, Prompts: “Just marry me already” and Sam/Darling

@zozo-01, your request is up next! I'll aiming to start on it in the beginning of next week!

“Can you please, for once, not hog all of the blankets?” Darling grabbed at the corner of the blue blanket and yanked it towards their body. “You are sitting there with more layers than a lasagna, while half my body is exposed to the frigid elements of the night. I am done taking this injustice lying down.” They twisted their body, wrapping up into the fleece blanket tighter around themselves. 

“‘Injustice,’” Sam Collins scoffed, purposefully imitating Darling’s accent. “‘Frigid elements.’” He dropped the accent. “We’re inside your heated home!” Despite his grumbling, Sam helped Darling cover themselves more evenly. “I can’t be held responsible for what I do when I sleep. There’s no conscious intention behind the blanket theft! Just part of the ‘Sam Collins’ package.”

Darling huffed. “That’s a convenient excuse. And it’s one I’m going to remember next time I sleep-shift! Maybe a few bites are part of my package.”

“Go ahead,” Sam chortled. “I’ve seen that little occurrence before. Other than the fact that you stick your tongue out the side of your mouth, ain’t nothing different about sleeping next to you in your human form or your wolf form.”

“I do not stick my tongue out of my mouth when I’m a wolf!” Darling defended. 

“I know, Darlin’. I didn’t say you do that as a wolf,” Sam smartly quipped before a pillow hit him in the face. 

Darling gasped, taking another whack at Sam. 

“Okay, okay, I surrender!” Sam put his arms up and splayed out his fingers to show he meant it. “I’m just kiddin’ you.” He scooted closer to Darling. “You know I love falling asleep with you next to me. And waking up with you next to me, too. Wolf or human. Tongue or no tongue.”

“Fine! I forgive you,” Darling dramatically declared. “But only because you’re so cute.” They stretched their neck so that they could kiss Sam, leaning into the taste of his lips. “And so sweet,” they added before deepening the kiss. As they felt Sam return the kiss, their heart fluttered. It was uncanny how something as simple as a gentle touch from Sam could settle Darling’s nerves and let them live in the moment. “So kind and gentle.” They threw their leg up over Sam’s thighs, the faintest trace of pleasure-pain hitting them as one of Sam’s fangs grazed across the inside of their gum. Darling arched their back as one of Sam’s arms hooked around their shoulder and the other hugged their waist. “Just marry me already.”

Sam’s jaw dropped and his body went stiff. “What?”

“What?” Darling leapt up, untangling themselves from Sam in pure shock that the phrase escaped their mouth. “I… I… I…” They idly played with a wrinkle in the sheets, dropped their gaze to avoid what they presumed would be Sam’s horrified stare. “It just slipped out. It was stupid of me to blurt out like that. Look, just forget about it, okay?”

Pulling his lips into a tight line, Sam tried to hide his disappointment. “Is that what you want me to do? Forget you said that? Because, if that’s what you want, I will. Of course I will, Darlin’. But I…” He sighed. “But I think you should know that I would marry you in a heartbeat.”

Darling’s wide eyes snapped to Sam’s. “You would? Really?” They fought to keep the hope out of their voice and their heart, but they couldn’t help either one. 

“Really, absolutely, truly, one-hundred percent, ‘yes,’” Sam answered honestly. He brushed the back of his hand along Darling’s cheek. The rough skin of his knuckles contrasted the smooth skin of their face. “I love you, Darlin’.”

“I love you, too, Sam,” Darling breathed out, stifling a tremor in their lower lip. “I haven’t thought too far ahead. Y’know, details and shit. I was always too hung up on how to ask you. When? Where? Should I get a ring? We’ve both said how engagement rings are pointless, so I thought I’d skip that part.”

“You found the perfect way to ask,” Sam assured them. “Because it was real. And just between us. For us.” He lightly squeezed their cheek. “It was the perfect proposal.”

“It wasn’t even a question,” Darling critiqued, ignoring the burn of embarrassment that warmed the tips of their ears. “I basically just told you to marry me.”

Shrugging, Sam laughed, “‘Cause you know what you want. You ain’t the only one with a hard-headed streak, y’know.” Without warning, he pulled them closer to his face. “That’s a trait we share. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He kissed them again, muscles relaxing as he felt them push more of their weight into him. “Details, shmee-tails. We’ll figure all that out another time. For now, knowing that we’re going to get married. That’s enough for me.”

“Oh, Sam,” Darling whispered in delight and relief. “Me, too. You are enough. More than I could’ve ever hoped for.” 

Sam expected them to settle their head onto his chest for the night, so he was surprised to see Darling pop up from the bed and rummage through their drawers. 

“Aha!” they burst, gathering three folded blankets under their arms. They diligently shook each blanket before draping them across Sam in quick succession. 

“Darlin’, I… I’m gonna melt overnight with all this on!” he confusedly observed, kicking his legs to remove the extra blankets. “What are you doing?”

“You deserve to steal every blanket I have if it means we get to be married,” Darling replied, returning to the bed and burying themselves in Sam’s hold. “I love you,” they repeated before closing their eyes and returning Sam’s cuddles.

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

PART FOURTEEN

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: mentions of sexual content, feelings, cigarettes Summary:  Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place.

Notes: HI EVERYONE! I’m sorry I’m so inconsistent lately. I promise that the next chaptered fic I write, I’ll only start posting it when I’m done writing it. I hope you like this chapter - its incredibly sappy because I’m on my period lol

As always, big thanks to my beta, @lantern-inthenight​ <3

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack​  @dharma-divine​

MASTERPOST

“Remind me again why you want to ride separately from your brother?” You looked pointedly over at Josh, who was smiling as he ran a soapy rag over the plate you’d just finished eating off of. 

“I already have to spend my whole winter break with my family, no need to rob myself of alone time with you,” he explained like it was obvious. 

A huff escaped your lips. You pushed away from where you had been leaning against the counter and wrapped your arms around his neck from behind. You laid your head in between his shoulder blades, feeling him turn to nuzzle his nose against your arm as it laid on his shoulder.  

“We spend so much time together - like every day - which I’m obviously grateful for,” you said, half-muffled by the material of his sweater. “But don’t you think it just makes more sense to carpool?” 

You couldn’t see his hands, but the movements you could feel told you he was wiping the extra water off of them before turning around and pressing your chests together. His lips lightly brushed your temple as he spoke. 

“You’re right,” he agreed, though you knew him well enough to know he wasn’t about to just relent. “It does make more sense - I just don’t want to.”

You let out a breath, frowning as you tried to figure out if you should say what you were thinking. After a moment of working up the courage, you cupped his jaw with your right hand, knowing full well that the sweet gesture would help him swallow the discomfort your words would cause. 

“Josh,” Your voice was low and quiet, but as you met his eyes, you chickened out. They were so honest, looking at you like your presence was the only thing keeping him grounded - like if you left, he’d just cease to exist. You made a mental note to have a talk with him about that at some point, but you decided it would have to be after you’d returned from Christmas break. 

“Hm?” You must have been contemplating too long, prompting his features into a look of concern. You couldn’t bear it. 

“Jake is going to ride with us,” you said decidedly. “I already told him he could.”

That was a bit of a lie - he had mentioned it a few days ago and you had said you’d run it by Josh, but you had just made up his mind for him.

He huffed a laugh as he rolled his eyes playfully at you. “Sounds like you’re already communicating better with my family than I have in months.”

“Well,” you started, giving him a pointed look - the kind you only give when you feel confident that you’re right. “I think that would mean communicating with them at all. Honestly, Josh, I know you-”

You were abruptly silenced as he placed his forefinger across your open lips, a half-smirk on his face. 

“It’s okay,” he assured simply. “He can ride with us.”

A smile spread across your face underneath his finger. “Good. Have you started packing?” Your words were muffled under his touch.

“Eh,” he replied with a noncommittal shrug, lowering his hand to brush his thumb across your chin. 

“Do you want help with that?” you inquired cheekily. “Because, you know, we leave in two days.” 

He appeared to consider it for a moment before nodding. “Actually, yeah, that sounds nice. You can sit on my bed and watch while I pack really inappropriate clothes for the occasion.”

You half-snorted out a laugh, rolling your eyes because you knew that’s the reaction he was aiming for. “How about I just pack for you?”

+++

For the first time since knowing him, you saw Jake Kiszka wearing a jacket. It was long and dramatic and nearly brushed the top of the snow as he made his way out to your car with a leather duffle bag in his left hand.

He opened the rear, passenger-side door and tossed his bag in next to yours and Josh’s before sliding in next to it. 

You greeted him cheerily, to which he shot you back a smile as a reply.

“You’re actually wearing a coat,” you noted as he pulled the seatbelt over his form and buckled in.

He hummed amusedly, reaching into his pocket and popping a stick of gum in his mouth. 

“I’ve found that he doesn’t usually dress like a slut to go home,” Josh replied instead as he turned a lighter around in his palm, absent of the task. 

“And if I didn’t wear a coat home, I’d never hear the end of it.” 

Josh nodded in agreement, and then you watched a shit-eating grin spread across his lips. “I’m kinda surprised Kate isn’t coming with us today, to be honest. Are you waiting until Easter just to make sure?”

You were busy pulling out onto the road, so you didn’t see it, but you could imagine Jake deeply rolling his eyes at the question. 

“I would bring Kate home - it would make me truly happy to physically see Mom die a little inside when she starts trying to talk about amphibious breeding cycles at length during dinner,” he mused, voice clear of any kind of sorrow. He finished simply and with a smile, “But she isn’t my girlfriend.”

“I don’t know, it seemed a little sus when I showed up at her house in the morning and you were already there, chillin’ with her dog,” you replied in a sing-song voice. 

“I wasn’t already there, I was still there.” You felt him place a hand on your shoulder, and slap his other one against Josh’s. “Not all of us have the luxury of just being able to pop down the hall.”

“Fair enough,” you relented, feeling your face flush warm. 

“Or the shower. Or the kitchen that one time,” Josh added unhelpfully, making your eyes immediately pop open. 

“Josh,” you scolded and quickly considered reaching over and slapping him, but decided it was unsafe to drive and strike a passenger at the same time. 

“No, this is good,” Jake assured through a smirk you could hear. “Let him get it all out before we get there.”

Josh snickered back, “You’re such a prick.”

+++

The Kiszka homestead was almost impossibly cozy. There was a basket of blankets by the big sofa (much nicer and fluffier than the blankets at your apartment, which had been flattened and matted to the point of complete defeat) and the furniture was centered around a glowing, stone fireplace. Josh’s mom had hugged him for a long moment upon your arrival - a gesture that made your throat feel tight as you watched her fingers flex in the material at the back of his shirt. 

She was sunny and kind to the point that you could clearly see Josh’s mannerisms reflected in hers, and the dinner she laid out on the dining room table seemed impossibly large to you, having come from a home with just three people in it. 

When she asked you how you liked Midwestern cooking, you gushed about it for - what was undeniably - too long. You’d never say, but you weren’t positive that part of it wasn’t just not having had a real home-cooked meal in months. 

You had come to decipher that Josh had told his family that you were just a roommate that didn’t have a place to go for winter break, but you were pretty sure you’d be able to tell the nature of your relationship if you were on the outside looking in - you seemed to be magnetically drawn to wherever Josh was these days. 

Everyone cleared out of the living room pretty quickly after dinner and conversation, and you finally got the chance to ask the question that had been on your mind all day. 

“Do I sleep out here?” 

You were posted up on the couch, your legs crossed one over the other with Josh staying a few inches farther away from you than you were used to.

“No,” he replied. “You can take my room and I’ll sleep out here.”

You had asked mostly as a formality - you hadn’t figured that you’d actually have to sleep separately. Through a slight frown, you said, “Oh, man. It’s been a while since I’ve had to sleep alone. What if I freeze to death?” 

He flashed you a smile. “I thought ahead and laid a heated blanket out on the bed for you.”

“Heated blanket? This whole time heated blankets were an option?” you whispered harshly.

“Okay, in my defense, by the time I remembered that they existed, we were already sleeping in the same bed every night.”

The suspicious way you stared at him for a few moments had him biting back a laugh - one of those unguarded ones that seemed to be reserved for people he was really comfortable around. Which seemed to just be you most of the time. 

“Will you at least come get ready for bed with me?” you asked, subtly looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Of course - no puppy eyes necessary,” he assured with a snicker.

This room was decidedly different than the one back in Ann Arbor. Josh’s space back in the apartment was mostly made up of Earth tones - either picked by choice or having just dulled over time. There were little pops of color scattered around the room, like the golden yellow rug that spread across almost all of the wooden floor, or the string of flags that spanned the entire wall above his bed. 

This room was different. You could tell that his parents had tried to clean it up since Josh had moved out, but there was still evidence of spots where posters were hung on the maroon red walls. A stack of comics laid on the dresser - the surface of which was covered in residue and paper where he had placed stickers and then tried to peel them off. 

You eyed a well-used keyboard placed along the far wall, and what appeared to be milk crates full of sheet music and the idea of him sitting in front of it and practicing for hours brought a smile to your lips. 

He hauled both of your bags up onto the bed and you both picked through them for the sleep apparel you’d packed. You watched him change into a short-sleeved tee and a pair of loose flannel pants through the bathroom mirror as you brushed your teeth across the hall, and when he caught your eyes, he gave you a smirk. 

You’d been half expecting him to change his mind and just crawl into bed with you, but instead, he helped you clamber under the covers and pulled the comforter up to your chest. 

“Wow, full service tuck-in and everything,” you teased, but quickly shut up when his thumb brushed over your lips. 

“Well,” he mused, voice low. “Not the full service.”

You gave him a sour grin as he backed up to the door and flicked the light off. 

“Good night, Joshua.”

+++

The next couple of days came and went easily. You were starting to get actually acquainted with his family - chatting with his mother and sister over morning coffee, and getting pinned between his brothers on the sofa while Christmas movies played in the background.

You really hadn’t realized how much you missed being around family until it hit you at dinner one night. You watched out of the corner of your eye as Josh unscrewed the lid on the salt under the lip of the table and then asked Sam if he wanted any. 

Josh was just about to slide it across the beat-up wooden surface when you snatched it out of his hand, pointedly tightened the lid, and then slid it over. 

When you peeked over at him, Josh was glaring at you, but he wasn’t able to stop the mischievous smirk that his mouth took the shape of. 

Sam huffed a laugh that sounded more like a scoff, having figured out the plot quickly after seeing the look on Josh’s face.  

“Samuel, do me a favor and dump the whole shaker of salt on your potatoes,” Josh requested in a faux-sweet voice. “Please and thank you.” 

“Piss off.” Sam’s reply came through a mouth-full of food, but somehow, he still managed to look lovely while saying it. However, that didn’t save him from his mom’s scolding look - though whether that was in response to the harsh language or speaking with a full mouth was anyone’s guess. You guessed that a person never got to grow out of being “the baby”. 

It was then - that simple moment - that you realized how oddly welcomed you felt in this setting. It hadn’t been awkward or uncomfortable even once. You’d never felt out of place despite how different it was from your own home experience. 

After you were settled into bed that night, you laid awake thinking about nothing and everything. You didn’t feel particularly tired, but you had decided to turn in when Josh started dozing off on the couch while you were watching the tv on low volume. 

You had no clue what time it was, as your phone was charging across the room, but at some point you heard the distinct sound of a door creaking open. It was just down the hall - that you could distinguish -  but you weren’t positive which room specifically. The person made their way down the hall, and then up a creaky set of steps, though you could tell that they were trying to move quietly when they got to the next floor and the cadence of their steps changed to something lighter. 

You thought about it for a moment before pushing the covers off of you, crawling out of the warmth of the nest you’d made, and slipping your feet into a pair of Josh’s fuzzy slippers that were just barely peeking out under the bed frame. Trying to be as quiet as the last person had been, you crept up the stairs in the low light, having to strain to see the steps in the unfamiliar space, lest you lose your footing. 

The room at the top of the steps was a study, and on the other side of it was a large, sliding glass door. And on the other side of that, was Jake, sat out on a covered patio with a cigarette in his hand. 

You crossed the room, grabbing a blanket off of the worn leather sofa and wrapping it around yourself as you moved. 

He barely turned his head to look at you as you slid the glass open and stepped out onto the porch. The brisk air hit you hard enough to nearly knock the breath from your lungs, so you pulled the blanket up your body until only your head was showing. 

“Sorry if I scared you.” The volume of your words were just above a whisper as you bent to sit next to him on the cold wood. “Or if I’m intruding.”

He hummed around his cigarette before ashing it into a Coke can. “You didn’t, and you aren’t.” He looked you over for the first time then and frowned deeply at you. “You are going to freeze to death though. Where the hell is your coat?”

“I’m fine, I’ve got the blanket, see?” you assured, though you had to admit that the cold cut right through the thick material. 

He ran his eyes up and down it, rolling them affectionately at you. “Okay,” he replied, though it sounded nothing like he believed you. After a few silent moments, he spoke again. 

“How are you liking it here?”

A genuine smile spread out over your lips. “Michigan is lovely, if that’s what you mean. Cold to the point where I’m not sure why anyone would want to live here, but. Lovely, all the same.” 

He smiled back at you, oddly warm in nature for him. “And what about the family? Do you find all of us lovely too?” 

“Absolutely,” you agreed, pulling your knees up to your chest like you were in a cocoon. Another few long moments ticked by as you watched the snow fall. The night was so still that you swore you could hear the flakes as they settled on whatever surface they happened to land on. 

“Can I ask you something?” You flicked your eyes over at him to assess his expression. You knew your brows were threaded close together in worry, which he seemed to take into account before he answered.

He nodded as he took another drag. “Sure,” he replied, smoke and steam glowing with the light of the cherry on the end of his cigarette as he exhaled. 

You were silently trying to figure out how to word it for long enough that he looked over at you expectantly. 

“Do you think Josh would have come home for Christmas if I...weren’t around?” 

He met your eyes and huffed a humorless laugh. “I think that he would have spent a week or two anxiously deciding whether he could handle it and then, ultimately, he would feel too guilty to say no. And from there, I think it would have been a repeat of last year - he would have come home here, found it exhausting, and then screened everyone's’ calls for a couple of months again.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you just stared at his face, your teeth pressed into your bottom lip until you could feel they’d left an indent as you ran your tongue over it. 

“But it’s weird, right?” he continued, biting back a smirk that made you a little uneasy about what he was going to say next. “He seems to be almost blissfully happy this year.”

You held your breath for a moment as you tried to organize your emotions, and then exhaled in a rush once it became uncomfortable. “Look, I. He’s obviously a lot of things to me. A best friend, a room mate, a...romantic partner?”

Jake shot you a disbelieving but highly amused look at your wording.

“But I’m worried that he’s tying himself to me too tightly.” With your eyes, you tried to portray the emotions that that thought evoked in you - how compressed it made you feel. 

He seemed to chew it over as he stubbed out his cigarette on the damp wood and then - near instantly - materialized another from behind his ear like a magic trick.  

“I love seeing him happy, but I’m scared that I’m the only thing making him happy,” you finished, voice admittedly a little shaky. You didn’t ask first - though you should have - but you slid closer to him until your shoulders were touching, and despite not knowing him all that well yet, it still managed to make you feel more grounded. “It’s not that I expect this to end - whatever we have - but what if it does?”

Jake’s eyes flitted around your features like he was trying to map your face as you anxiously waited for him to tell you everything would be alright. 

“You know,” he started, voice low. “When we moved away for school, he was the one that decided we wouldn’t room together. I mean, I didn’t blame him or anything, but I always just assumed we would. He used to be so outgoing. I mean, he never missed a party. People would trip over themselves to be next to him. He used to take his ex out any time he could - it didn’t really matter where, because he’s always had a way of making even the most monotonous task seem fun.”

You didn’t try to suppress a smile as it found your lips. 

“So, his ex broke it off with him. I don’t know what happened really - only what I’ve been able to pry out of him - but it fucked him up pretty good. And then as he was just starting to get over it, his roommate had some kind of mental break and just moved out one weekend while Josh was gone. It’s not like they were best friends or anything, but they got along.”

“Fuck,” you whispered, resting your head on Jake’s shoulder and not caring whether or not it was polite to do so anymore. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, simply. The tone of his voice was something very somber - the kind you’d use if you were giving a eulogy. “I tried to help. I offered to move in with him. I showed up at his apartment all the time, but he got pretty effective at dodging me. Not just me, actually, but everyone. Worried the fuck out of our mom.” 

“What then?” You were not-so-secretly hoping that Jake was going to find a way to make you feel better, and the pitch of your voice reflected it. The core of your body felt like it was stuffed full of stones, weighted and heavy. “What happened?”

Jake hummed. “Well, he started to level out a bit. After a good couple months he started at least answering the door when I came to see him. Sometimes he’d text me back after a day or two. That went on like that for a while.”

He titled his head to look over at you then for the first time in a while. You felt oddly vulnerable after hearing all of that, but you tried not to duck away from his eyes. 

“But then, suddenly, you were there. He didn’t tell me a thing about you, or even that he was getting a new roommate until well after you were already moved in.”

You huffed a laugh. “If it makes you feel better, he didn’t tell me anything about you either really. Imagine my surprise when I open the door and you were a twin. Uncanny valley territory.” 

“I think he learned how to compartmentalize the people in his life. Seems like it’s easier to manage relationships that way when you’re an extremely guarded person like he had suddenly become.”

He took a pause to take a long drag, simultaneously running a hand through his silky hair. 

“But to answer your question - I don’t think you’re the only thing making him happy,” he continued, meeting your eyes with an intensity that you understood to your core. “I think you’re just reminding him that there are things to be happy about.” 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say, but you were suddenly choking back tears and a tight, hot feeling in your throat.  

“You’ve just got to give him time to remember what it’s like.”

When you opened your mouth to reply, you realized you’d been holding your breath for a moment too long, causing you to suck in a shaky breath. “I intend to give him all the time he needs,” you promised. 

Jake offered you back a smile as he moved to stand, stretching out his muscles and then extending a hand for you to take. He helped you clamber up off the floor before tucking his lighter back into the pocket of his fleece sleep-pants. 

“Good to hear.” 

[bigboomboi]

Kindered Sparks

This is my entry for @gg9183’s soulmate collab - Oof, I was almost late for your birthday ( I know that I'm technically no where near late, but I put this out so much later than I would've rathered. Sorry, I'm a Virgo, mate.) Anyhoo! Happy Birthday! And congratulations on your amazing Milestone! Thank you for organizing this collab too and allowing me to be apart of it! Honestly, I love soulmate pieces so much, so I was so excited seeing this prompt (I'm excited to read the others as well!) My friend helped me put together an idea for a SM connection and I really enjoyed writing it, hope you do as well :) Happy reading!

Fem!reader x Denki Kaminari

Soulmates au; People are born with a dream realm connecting them to their Soulmate. Warning; harsh language, Hurt/comfort, pretty fluffy, cursing. Implied readerxfemale relationship. BakuKiri relationship (I got bullied last time I didn't say that was a pairing, so, just being safe)

Word count; 4.6K

“Another lonely night in this stupid world.” Y/N grumbled staring up at her dreamy night sky.

A sky she was supposed to share with someone else.

In this wonderful, bittersweet world, you were tied to another person. Destiny decided from day one of your birth who you’d be with for the rest of your life and then set you in a special plane of existence only accessible when you fell asleep, once you turned the ripe age of fifteen. The kindred-plane.

A place specially made for you and your soulmate to meet each night when you fall asleep. It was a place to get to know each other without the prying eyes of all those around. A shared dream land you could even decorate and make your own. It was your partner’s and your safe space.

It was a place you guys could explore together, where your imaginations combined like an amazing world of minecraft. Some people made completely different lives in their heads at night. Others used it to see their long distance lovers. Hell, there was a blog story sharing what sounded like a whole scripted tv show where a woman’s soulmate had set off to save her from an uncompromising kingdom.

Sadly though, your shared safe space could be destroyed in a matter of moments. It wasn’t unheard of for your soulmate to reject destiny’s plan and divide your dreams. You could absolutely reject your soulmate and quite literally lock them out of your dreams. All presence of them would disappear from your dreams within a few nights, sometimes even faster, and you’d be left alone with only your creations.

Of course, being divided from your soulmate hurt. But something hurt much worse.

Your soulmate being unintentionally stolen from you. A divide where you lose your soulmate despite neither saying they’d like to divide. A situation where your soulmate dies.

Y/N sighed at the reminiscent of her once was soulmate. So sweet and kind, someone Y/N fully imagined meeting one day in the daylight. Yet, now at the sad age of seventeen, Y/N had no dreams of ever seeing her soulmate ever again.

She only had the one year of memories they made…

“Class, This Y/N. She will be joining our class for her final year of hero training, treat her well.” Aizawa introduced her to the class of 3-A.

“Thank you, Sensei” Y/N bowed slightly. “Nice to meet you all.”

Not even a moment of silence was granted before the class erupted in questions. Half about her quirk, the other half about where she was from. A few off hand questions about why she transferred. All a mess.

“Enough!” Aizawa shouted, hushing the entire class. “You all can get to know her later, on your own terms. For now, Y/N please take your seat.”

Y/N nodded and scurried back to the only free seat in the back. Between a pretty pinkette and sweet looking round faced brunette. Before she was even seated, Aizawa began his lesson.

Y/N quietly sat through the classes of her day, ignoring the judging looks aimed her way, as the new girl. She could hear the quiet whispers going around, speculating what type of person she was and tried to ignore those as well. She was well aware of the fact that she appeared very off-standish.

Dark eye bags, complete resting bitch face that quite literally screamed ‘I will stab you with a pencil if you speak to me’, earbuds tucked into each ear and a hunched over form that could rival Quasimodo. Thankfully, the aura she set into place actually warded off her new classmates for several days.

Up until a week later in the common room where her bubble was invaded.

She didn’t look up at the person sitting next to her and subtly tried to turn up her music. She felt the presence of several others join her and they all stared at her silently until finally, the pinkette she sat next to on her first day, plucked her book from her hands. Y/N slowly looked up at her dully and raised an eyebrow.

She reached out for her book, but the girl pulled it back out of her reach. She tried again, reaching forwards further, but the book was yoinked by a strip of tape, pulling it across the coffee table. Gritting her teeth slightly, Y/N stood up to reach across the table and the music in her ears paused.

The girl had unplugged her headphones.

“You just have no regard for personal belongings of others, hm?” Y/N sighed, sitting down.

“We just want to get to know our new classmate!” The pink girl grinned. “I’m Mina!”

“Hi, Mina. Now give me back my shit.” Y/N tried to grab her phone, only for someone behind her to tug her ear buds away. “Seriously?”

“We’ll give you back your things if you let us get to know you.” Mina smiled.

“Or, you could just give it back.” Y/N tried to grab her earbuds from the bright blonde behind her.

“Nope.’ He said, a grin on his face as well. “I’m Kaminari Denki, nice to meet ya, beautiful.”

Y/N sighed and rolled her eyes. “Or, I could just take my stuff back.”

“You could but there’s five of us and one of you, good luck.” A bitch faced blonde mumbled, flipping through her book.

“Fine. Here’s one thing about me.” Suddenly she appeared behind the bitch blonde and snatched her book. Another one of her appeared behind the one who taped her book away and grabbed her book mark. Two other Y/N’s came into existence on opposite sides of her seating couch to grab her phone and ear buds. All while the original Y/N sat in her place. “Don’t touch my things.”

“Woah, you can make multiple you’s!” The redhead gasped excitedly. “That’s so manly!”

“That’s so cool! They feel so real!” Kaminari said, poking the side of the one near him. It yelped and swatted his hand.

“They are real! Don’t poke me, I’m ticklish!” Y/N snapped, rubbing her side.

“Woah, can you feel this?’ The tape one reached out to pinch the clone’s arm.

Y/N’s other clone smacked him with her book. “Yes, I can feel that! Ow!”

“So your quirk is duplicating yourself? Boring…” Bitch face rolled his eyes, another Y/N appeared behind him and swatted the back of his head.

“My quirk is omni-replication. I can create continuous versions of myself and others. But they can act on their own.” Y/N sighed, bringing herself her book.

“Woah, make another me!” Kaminari grabbed her arm.

“G-Get off of me!” Y/N shoved him away, ignoring the literal spark between them. “I can’t make one of you now!”

“But you just said-.” Mina tried.

“I have to know your ins and outs. Otherwise I’d just make a weird melty blob of you.” Y/N sighed. “I need to know more about you guys before I can make you. I need to know you, how you fight, how your quirk works, I need to know how to play the game before I can participate.”

“So, what I’m hearing is…” Mina smirked. “You need to get to know us to succeed.”

“Oh god…” Y/N groaned. “I have no choice in this do I?”

“We have a specialty of making friends with people that don’t want to be friends.” The red head threw his arm over bitch face’s shoulder.

And thus a new friendship was born.

“Bakugo, why do you keep moving my pillow in our dreams, it’s so not manly.” Kirishima whined.

“Neither is the massive rock sitting in the middle of nowhere, dude.” Bakugo argued.

“It’s not just a rock.” Kirishima mock sniffled. “It’s a boulder.”

Y/N snickered at the reference that earned the kind redhead a smack to the back of his head. “Are you delivering pizza on it?”

“Yes!” Kiri grinned.

“No! Don’t encourage him!” Bakugo shouted.

“Aye, don’t shout at me. Your boyfriend is a literal rock, he’s encouraging himself.” Y/N laughed, throwing a fry at him.

“Oh yeah, what trash has your soulmate cluttered in your dream world?” Bakugo argued back.

Y/N’s laughter silenced and immediately her lips curled into a scowl. A light switched on and they remembered the one rule they had set in place. No one talks about Y/N’s soulmate. Or lack thereof.

“Bakugo!” Mina snapped.

“Shit, I didn’t-.” Y/N didn’t give him the time to apologize and stood up from the lunch table.

“Wait, no, Y/N! He didn’t mean to!” Kaminari grabbed her arm.

She flicked him in the forehead and pulled away. “No, it’s fine. You guys talk about your soulmate shit, I’m going to the training field.”

“Wait, Y/N, really!” Mina tried. “It’s just, we’re so used to casually talking about it!”

“I don’t care if you guys talk about yours, but you know I don’t have one, so we don’t bring up mine!” She huffed, before taking a breath. “You know what? Never mind.”

Y/N ignored her friend’s protest and stomped out of the dinning hall. She rushed to the training area, stopping by the locker room to change and grab gear, briefly.

Activating her quirk she began fist fighting her clone, taking her anger out on herself. Very early on into her friendship with the group she told them she didn’t want to talk about the soulmate shit. At least not her own. She told them she didn’t have one, leaving them to believe she never did.

They were incredibly understanding after they found that it upset her. So much, to the point that she copied Kirishima to punch himself when he kept asking. After that ordeal and several days of being ignored, they respected her wishes of not bringing it up.

She knocked herself down and punched herself in the face. She turned off the connection to the clone so she wouldn’t feel the pain herself. Disconnected clones only had a few minutes to live really and faded away with enough damage. Once that one faded, she created another in its space and continued pounding away.

“Stupid soulmate bullshit.” She huffed each word with a punch. “Stupid divide rule.” Another clone. “Stupid. Fucking. Erg- Everything!”

Y/N beat her final clone to death and didn’t bring a new one out. She sniffled, the tears she’d been holding back for years now finally breaking her dam. She hated the horrible lonely feeling she had been surrounded by for so long. She missed out on so much sleep, just to avoid going to her dream world. She set alarms to wake her up every hour or so to stay away from it and at this point, she was losing her mind.

She cried more thinking back to the last time she had been in her kindred-plane. She’d avoided it for a few days before exhaustion actually hit her like a bus and made her sleep. This time her plain little dream seemed to have adopted new items in her absence.

A bundle of comic books, a guitar, even a really, really big pikachu plushie.

Not that they were placed anywhere in particular. The guitar was outside of the little home she had reimagined, laying haphazardly on the ground. The pikachu was placed in front of a tree, facing it and the books were strewn across her loveseat couch. It was like her dream realm had become a lost and found for thrown away items from other planes. Which, honestly, Y/N could believe, as she didn’t use it so much.

She wished she could just give away her realm and dream of nothingness.

“Y/N?” She jumped, hearing her name and quickly wiped away her tears, ignoring the way they stung her open knuckles.

“Kaminari, I’m not really in the mood to talk.” Y/N muttered.

“Okay, that’s fine. We both know I talk enough for the both of us.” He joked, coming to sit in front of her.

Y/N turned to look away from his seating and ignored him, but he set off into a spiel about a new game he got. He did what he did best when one of his friends were upset, he talked. And normally that worked, but minutes into his yabbering, she started crying again.

“Hey, no! No crying! Crying is sad!” Kaminari tried.

“I am sad Kami!” She snapped. “I am really fucking sad! Everyone gets to have stupid fucking soulmate but me! And all because mine fucking died!”

Kaminari immediately paused his frantic attempts to calm her. “Huh, I thought you said you didn’t have one?”

“I don’t because she died! My god damn soulmate died literally months after meeting each other damn it!” Y/N yelled, sinking her fingers into her hair. “And now my kindred-plane is empty and lonely and shit keeps getting piled into it like a fucking trash can!”

Kaminari was silent for a moment while she cried. He slowly crawled over, closer to her and pulled her into a hug. This wasn’t a moment for talking randomly and he knew that. So they sat for the rest of the lunch period in silence, save for her soft hiccups.

After that, somehow, Y/N started talking to her friends the next day. She rationalized that it wasn’t their fault she was sensitive about the subject, they didn’t deserve the aggression. So with a tense apology, she was back to sitting with them at lunch and hanging out.

Y/N was determined to not let her disrupted dreamland destroy her outside reality.

“Okay, really?” Y/N blinked at the ugly rug that appeared draped over her bookshelf. “How the hell did you even get there?”

She tugged it down and stared at it in disgusted contemplation. “Guess you get to go in front of the fireplace…”

Y/N walked towards the warmth and paused, noting that it felt like it took a few more steps than usual. She looked around and found that the picture she carefully centered on the wall was no longer centered. Was her house getting bigger? More and more shit was popping up out of nowhere and her place felt spaceyer…

“What the actual fuck universe?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and laid down the new rug.

An odd whooshing noise sounded behind her and she turned around to see a lamp fizzled into existence, a hand accompanying it this time. Y/N fumbled over own feet trying to hurry and grab it. Someone was putting shit in her realm and she was about to find out who.

Actually she wasn’t.

The moment she grabbed the hovering wrist, it was like she had rubbed her socks across her new rug a million times and then touched an outlet. The hand shocked her, hard. She yelped and fell backwards on her butt, accidently taking the lamp down too, except when it fell apart it fell backwards toward the floating hand and disappeared from her plane.

Y/N gasped sitting up out of her bed, the shock kicking her out of her own dream. “Ow, what the hell?”

Y/N looked over at her clock, finding that it was five in the morning. She sighed and climbed out of her bed, grabbing her ear buds and phone. There was no school the next day, it was Saturday so she aimed to sneak down to the common room and spend her day dead on the couch, fighting off sleep again.

Not ten minutes after snuggling into a comfy spot on the couch, it dipped slowly as someone sat on the other end of it. She looked up from her book, to find Kaminari on the other end. He held up a bag of doritos in exchange for her company.

“What are you doing up?” She asked, pulling out her ear buds.

“Got startled awake by something in my dream world.” He answered, holding the bag out to her.

“Ah, that sucks.” She hummed apologetically.

“What about you?” He asked carefully.

Y/N snorted. “Kami, you know I don’t sleep.”

“Yeah, I know, but you’ve been up for the past few days.” He sighed, remembering seeing her in the kitchen at three am. “You’re going to trash your health if you don’t sleep.”

“Eh, it’s alright.” She crunched on a chip, before yawning. “Plus, you stay up every night gaming, bite me.”

“Gladly.” He winked. “But seriously, a lonely dream realm can’t be all bad.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if he was going to continue this topic of conversation. And he did. “I mean mine’s pretty lonely and I think it’s alright.”

“What?” She furrowed his eyebrows.

“My kindred-plane has but just me since like, forever, and I don’t think it’s that bad.” He shrugged.

Kaminari didn’t have a soulmate? That didn’t make sense, he’d tell them about all the adventures he’d run on in his dream. “You said you were helping some Jill girl fight zombies and stuff, just the other day.”

“Yeah, Jill Valentine. From Resident Evil.” He laughed. “I figured out a long time ago that I could just make her up in my dreams if I played the game until I fell asleep. She’s not my soulmate-.”

“You don’t have one…” Y/N whispered, sitting up.

“Nope, never did.” He offered her more chips, but Y/N just looked at him with sad eyes.

She cried in his arms about her soulmate dying and it turned out he never had one in the first place. “Don’t look so sad, Sunshine. It’s okay.”

“Denki, you don’t have a soulmate. That shit sucks.” Y/N flailed her hands.

“Yeah, but at least I didn’t get attached to mine and then they died. That sucks even more.” Kaminari argued.

Y/N slumped back against the couch. “This soulmate business is quite literal shit.”

“Yeah, but other people are pretty happy with it, so it’s okay to me really.” Kaminari hummed, nonchalantly. “Plus, no one can yell at me for my taste in decorations. That can really make or break a relationship ya know.”

Y/N laughed. “Oh yeah, totally. If my soulmate tried to decorate our space with half the shit that seems to appear in my room I’d have to throw hands.”

“Stuff appears in your dream?” Kaminari asked. “What, like, someone’s statue of Scooby doo?”

“Kaminari Denki, please tell me you don’t have a statue of Scooby doo in your kindred.” She tried not to laugh.

“No!” He said quickly. “I have a statue of Scrappy Doo.”

“Oh my god, no, you don’t!” She gasped.

“Yep! There’s a pond in front of my house and he’s in the dead center of it.” He grinned proudly. “And he looks amazing there.”

“Oh I bet he does.” Y/N snickered. “Bet he pulls the whole place together.”

“As a matter of fact he does.” Kaminari declared smugly. “What about your plane? What’s one big special thing you’ve got in it?”

Y/N hummed and thought for a second. “There’s a really big oak tree just behind my house and it’s covered in string lights, with a small ladder up the trunk. There’s a flat area in some of the branches so I can sit up there and read.”

“That sounds beautiful.” Kaminari said, fondly. “I have a tree kind of like that in mine too.”

“Does yours have a massive Pikachu in front of it?” She taunted, laughing.

She just barely missed the furrowing of his eyebrows before he answered. “I’m not entirely sure, I think, I’d have to take a look. I hope I do though, otherwise, I’d have to come steal yours.”

“Absolutely not! He’s my friend!” Y/N gasped and shoved at his leg. “Stick with your Scrappy Doo statue.”

Kaminari smiled. “Fine, fine. But if I don’t have a Pikachu in my dream, you owe me.”

“Mmhm, sure.” Y/N grinned.

For the next few months, Y/N and Kaminari grew closer, having bonded over their lack of soulmates. While they grew closer, not only did Y/N become happier, her kindred-plane seemed to get brighter, despite all the random things finding purchase in her realm and the fact that it was still growing. It was nice, she didn’t hate spending the night there anymore. She didn’t run into the disembodied hand anymore, but that was okay.

With what was happening in reality, she wasn’t too bothered by her dreams anymore. Instead, she focused on her friends, they were a wonderful reminder that life didn’t go to complete shit. For the first time, she actually let these people get close to her and drag her out of her hole she kept herself in.

… And out into the living room to watch the boys yell at each other over Mario Kart.

Y/N cursed and pushed Kaminari’s face away from her own as he laved his tongue across her cheek. “Denki, I swear to god if you don’t stop licking me, I’m going to bite you!”

“Ooh! Promise?” He flirted, smirking. “What else are you gonna do with that mouth?”

“Hurt your feelings, Sparkler boy.” She laughed, squishing his cheeks.

Kaminari threw himself into her arms, taking her to the floor. “So mean, I thought you loved me!”

“Oh yeah, she totally loves you with the way she made you beat yourself up today.” Bakugo snickered.

“Yeah, dude, she used your quirk against you better than you.” Kirishima pipped up.

“Hey, hey, clones don’t get fried when they use their ultimate! They just disappear and another one pops up!” Kaminari argued in defense.

“Jesus, Denki, you’re heavy!” Y/N shoved at his body, half heartedly. “Get off, you loser.”

“Uhg, fine, only because I have a race to win.” He rolled off her, to grab his switch controller.

“Oh thank god, I was going into the light for a second there.” Y/N gasped, dramatically.

Kaminari pinched her leg in retaliation. “Hey, I’m not that heavy!”

“Your head is though.” She stuck her tongue out.

“So mean.” He pouted as she turned to lay her head in his lap.

Y/N giggled as she pulled out her phone, to scroll through Tumblr for a fic to read. Moments went by before a snapchat notification popped up. Tapping on it, she found a common message from Mina.

‘You guys are too cute.’- Pinkiepie

‘We’re just friends, Mi.’-Y/N

A snap picture appeared in their feed and she tapped it open. There she was laying in Kaminari’s lap and there he was looking down at her, sweetly. ‘He’s giving you major heart eyes.’- Pinkiepie

‘Stop taking pictures of people, it’s stalkery.’- Y/N

‘That’s why you took a ss.’ -Pinkiepie

‘Oh fuck off.’- Y/N

‘Oh come on, just give him a chance, neither of you have sm’s so your not stealing him from anyone.’- Pinkiepie

‘You’re*’- Y/N

Y/N sighed and looked up to Kaminari’s face above hers. It apparently hadn’t been uncommon knowledge that Kaminari was Soulmateless, probably why the group had been so confused as to why she was so upset about it. It was normal to them, because it had always been Kaminari’s story.

Would it be so bad to make her own soulmate? Most divided soulmates stayed by themselves for the rest of their lives, but would it be alright if they didn’t?

“Oh, guys! I meant to tell you; I think I actually do have a soulmate!” Kaminari blurted into the air.

His admission quite literally derailed the entire room. Bakugo drove off the map in Mario Kart, Kirishima completely looked away from the game and Mina choked on her spit and her eyes flew to Y/N who paled significantly.

Sero was the only one who appeared unaffected. “Guys, he’s probably just saying that to throw us off, he’s in last.”

“I’m gonna blow you up, you put me in fourth with your little stunt.” Bakugo threatened.

“No, I’m serious!” Kaminari argued. “Over the last few months my dreams have been changing and stuff. Like it was making room for another person. My house is super spacy now, new decorations have been showing up for no reason, like there was a vase of flowers on the floor near my door, and my curtains changed colour, they’re a cute lavender colour now. Plus there’s a really big pikachu next to a beautiful oak tree in my yard.”

“Woah, dude, really?” Kirishima paused the race and turned to his friend.

“Yeah, totally.” Kaminari nodded, subtly looking down to meet Y/N’s wide eyes. “I was super confused for a while.”

“Holy shit, you’re serious.” Sero laughed. “Have you met them yet? Or are they just leaving surprises for you?”

“Well, I’ve seen her a few times, but I haven’t got the chance to talk to her yet, she wakes up pretty fast.” Kaminari shrugged.

“That’s so good Denki, I’m so happy for you.” Mina said softly as Y/N sat up.

“Me too, Denks. But speaking of waking up, I’m tired, so I’m gonna go take a nap.” Y/N hummed, yawning.

“Okay, see you later, Y/N.” They all chimed as she walked away.

“Yeah, see you later.” Kaminari called, carefully.

Y/N tried her best to contain herself and all but ran to her dorm. Along the way, her phone buzzed, no doubt a message from Mina. Once she was in her room, she flew to her bed, never had she been so eager to fall asleep before.

She quickly responded to Mina, ensuring her that she was alright and actually wanted to sleep. Y/N even sent her a reassuring picture of her smile with a short caption ‘I’m off to go see a Pikachu.’ After that, it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, but it was too long.

Y/N blinked open her eyes, finally appearing in her kindred-plane and spun around, trying to identify things in her dream house. She hurried to open the door and looked over to her tree, with the ever so famous Pikachu there. She turned and jogged in the opposite direction for the one thing she needed to see to make sure she was correct.

There it was. Scrappy Doo. In the middle of her pond.

Y/N jumped up and down, squealing to herself. It was happening, oh my god, it was happening. Now she just had to wait.

And wait she did. She had run back to her tree and climbed up to sit and await her soulmate. The soulmate she actually had again. Someone to share her dream world with again.

She had a soulmate.

Quietly for the next hour, Y/N sat and read one of her books, waiting almost patiently for him. She’d made it through the third chapter when a voice startled her away from the pages.

“Sorry, I couldn’t fall asleep for the life of me.” Kaminari said, smiling.

Y/N bit her lip and grinned. “I thought you missed my cue for a bit there."

"No, I was just a little too excited to fall asleep." He crawled up into her tree nook. "You see, I suddenly got a new person roaming my world almost like, uh, a forever person or something. What's it called?"

"Mm, I don't know. Kinda sounds like you've got a soulmate there, Denki." Y/N whispered as he came closer.

"Fucking finally." He muttered, leaning forwards to connect their lips.

But before he could make contact he ran into her hand first. “But, really, we are going to have to talk about your decorating choices.”

“Yeah, yeah, we can talk about that after this.” Kaminari chuckled and moved her hand to kiss her.

[levi-my-beloved]

Birds of a Feather

Chapter one

Pairings: Canon!Levi x F!reader

Content warnings: violence, swearing

Word count: 4K

Summary: You were the most notorious criminal in the Underground City. With your organisation of highly skilled professionals, only one man could take you down. He also happened to be Humanity’s Strongest… and your ex.

A/N: asdfghjkl hello there. so, this has been on my brain for a while now, so i started this as just a drabble. what i thought would stay as just a drabble turned into this 22k+ multi chapter fic because i have zero self restraint or self respect. i’m currently finishing chapter 5 as this is being posted, but i want to keep chapters posted around once every two weeks so i can keep up with the workload. maybe once a week if i start feeling spicy. yeah plot twist this is actually the second time i’ve drafted this up. the first time i managed to get everything done and in order and then manages to delete the entire post with my huge disgusting thumbs. Genuinely felt like crying for a good half an hour.

This is also my first Levi fic! yay! lmk if it sucks and idk i’ll cry or something. nah, in all seriousness please send me criticism cuz i really want to improve and critiques are the best way.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

“How down, Raven?”

“Six feet.”

Within the dank confines of a stinking alleyway, two green capes marked with the Military Police insignia crept ever closer to the taller, run-down building upon which you and your little squad of Shadows were now perched. No sunlight illuminated your position. Not that you’d ever seen the sun, or know what it even looked like, but you based your guesses upon the pathetic rays shining through the grates littering the ceiling of the Underground City.

The language you used with your Shadows, coded words translated to:

‘How do you want them to be dealt with?’

‘Death.’

It was something developed by your late guardian and mentor, Viper. See, you all had aliases in The Nest, your criminal organisation. The leader was often referred to as The Raven, however your mentor preferred to use his own nickname, stemming from his own reputation.

Then come the aliases for your Shadows. Prongs was your second, a tall, stern looking man with the black mask of a stag settled across his features.

Then came Wolf, and you swore the first time you’d set eyes on him, you thought a titan had wandered into the city. He was enormous, all 6ft 6ins of him carved in hard muscle. Slicked back silver hair and a beard that to rival a bear. Similar to Prongs, a mask sat upon his face, resembling that of a snarling wolf.

Following him was Verdant, Scales and Diablo. Your power trio. Though their special talents lay in different professions, get these three together and they were borderline unstoppable. A white mask decorated with three broad maple leaves obscured Verdant’s pretty features, Scales sported a bronze half mask etched with a snake-like diamond pattern, whilst Diablo, your trained escort, had opted for something that accentuated her own gorgeous features, a mask of black leather arcing high onto her brow on the left side, whilst the right arced low by her jaw. Though you were already spoken for, you couldn’t deny the beauty of Diablo. She did wonders when prying information between the legs of a moaning MP.

To your left crouched the twins, Una and Leaf. Una was gifted her name by none other than you yourself, after seeing her accuracy with a rifle. A single shot was all it took, from any distance. She wore no mask, something you’d allowed simply because she’d complained about the sight obstruction when lining up a shot. You’d agreed, but only under the condition that she wore a low hood. Her fiercely protective brother Leaf had chewed you out for that, but you knew he meant well. Leaf was good at what he did, excellent, in fact. Which was part of the reason you kept him on as a Shadow. The larger part was that you were damn fond of him. Of all of them, in fact. You loved every single one of your Shadows. Every single damned member of The Nest, you adored. You were their leader, afterall.

A masked helmet of black leather, similar material to Diablo’s, perched snug upon your own features. The hooked beak and obsidian feathers of a raven decorated the necessity, covering your face and hair, though leaving your lower features visible. It was a rite of passage, for you especially, and it signalled the start of your leadership.

“Una, set up. Verdant, Prongs, roundabout. Wolf…” your eyes slid to the giant man on your right, a dark smile slicing across your mouth. “Heel.”

The boulder of a man visibly sagged, clearly disappointed at your orders whilst the others sprang into action. Prongs and Verdant leapt across the rooftops in separate directions whilst Una removed her rifle from her back, parting her heavy cloak to reveal rounds and rounds of bullets strapped across her body. Leaf nestled closer into her side, whilst the other four took a step back. It was obvious you’d all been at this for a very long time, despite the twins not looking a day older than sixteen. In fact, most of your squad was younger than you, save for Wolf and Prongs, who had served their respective roles twice previously.

Sitting back on your heels, you watched your team get to work, the warmth of pride blossoming in your chest. Whilst you knew Prongs and Wolf were already incredibly skilled, the rest had flourished under your leadership. It had been ten years since you’d witnessed MPs put a bullet through your mentor’s skull. Ten long years since you’d taken up leadership and expanded the reaches of The Nest. Honestly, you were pretty proud of yourself, and none more so than when you watched your Shadows do what they do best.

Taking care of unwanted visitors.

Una took aim, resting the butt of her rifle in the crook of her shoulder, staring down the makeshift scope. She would be ready to take care of the two soldiers if either Prongs or Verdant failed to eliminate their targets.

Speaking of which…

That kernel of pride ignited as your (E/C) eyes followed Verdant’s careful, calculating form dropping from the rooftops above the alleyway, in sync with Prong’s own movements. The two assassins swooped with the grace of a stooping hawk, the silver glint of metal caught your eye as they both brandished their blades, before sinking the steel into the necks of the two soldiers. You didn’t need to be closer to see they were both dead. Expert precision. Deadly accuracy. That was why these people were your hand-picked Shadows. And why you were the most formidable gang leader in the Underground City. Your little criminal organisation had expanded into something to rival the killcount of Kenny the Ripper. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought.

Una lowered her weapon, strapping it back in the buckles between her shoulder blades.

“Finished.” she simply stated, turning back to drop down between the shattered tiles and splintered ceiling beams that marked your entrance and exit to this lookout point.

“Rendezvous back at The Nest,” you ordered flatly, before dropping forward and into the alleyway below.

“Anything?” you ask, a brow raised behind your raven mask as you saunter over. Prongs held up two sets of blades from one of the crimson bodies now gathering dirt and grime. Useless to you as they were, but somebody would definitely find an interest in them. Verdant seemed to be struggling with the straps of whatever gear these mosquitoes used to fly around. You’d never been able to figure out how to use it, but that shit made good money when in doubt. However, your usual buyers had disappeared off the face of the city, and you’d noticed a decline in gear sales since then. Gritting your teeth, you shook your head to Verdant, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t. It’s not worth it. The thug trio haven’t been back in years. I doubt they’d return to us now,” you explain softly, prompting the girl to stop her struggles and huff defeatedly. You’re heart ached softly at the thought of him, but you pushed the feeling down.

“Here,” she muttered, handing you another rifle. It seemed to be a newer model, something of an upgrade for Una.

“You did good, Ver. I’m proud of you,” that seemed to immediately lighten the girl’s mood, her eyes shining behind her mask as her mouth widened into a toothy grin.

“Thanks Raven!” she beamed, before scampering off back to The Nest, almost forgetting to take the gun back from your outstretched hand in her haste to make it back and tell everyone she’d received a compliment from you. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence. Rather it only happened once in a blue moon…

A huffed chuckle had your head turning and eyes narrowing to your second in command.

“Can I help you?” you ask, your tone dripping with the poisonous threat of hell if he chose his next words poorly. But Prongs continued to smile ever so slightly, shaking his head.

“Not at all, Raven. It’s just, in the last few years, since you drafted her into the Shadows, she’s really come into her own,” Prongs explained simply, shrugging as she stooped to kick over the now drained corpse, hoping to find anything useful. You bristle ever so slightly. That was something you hated. Compliments. How the fuck were you supposed to respond? You tried to think back to when Viper tried to teach you simple social skills.

“Uh, yeah. She has,” you respond, keeping your features as neutral as you could as you turned away, beginning to trudge back to The Nest.

“I’m serious, Rave. You’ve done incredible things for us. You know Viper would be proud of you. I am too. But…” Prongs trailed off, clearing having something to say but not knowing how to say it.

“Go on. But what?” you pressed, wanting to hear what your second in command had to say.

“Well, don’t you think it’s a bit much? Rave, it’s been years. Eyes have started looking in our direction since those three vanished. You don’t think we should be lying low for a bit? Calming suspicions instead of rousing them?” Prongs offered gently. You knew, deep down, he was right. But some notable gang disappearing hasn’t stopped you before, and it sure as hell wouldn’t stop you now.

“I’ll talk to Scar about it,” even just the mention of your advisor, and wife’s name gave your stomach butterflies. Scarlett Obsidine, your other, and better, half. After the disappearance of a certain dark haired man, Scar was the woman who comforted you, and though you missed him dearly, your heart managed to haphazardly piece itself back together and love all over again.

“Rave, listen—“

“Let’s go,” Prongs closed his mouth, the tone of your voice stating clearly that this matter wasn’t up for discussion. Especially not with him.

⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈

“You know he’s right,” you couldn’t help but sigh when your wife’s soft tones calmed your irritated mood. Soft hands gently kneaded at the tense muscles in your shoulders, forcing them to relax as a tired moan escaped your lips. Leaning back, you peer into her shining sapphire eyes, locks of brunette framing your face as she took the sides of your cheeks in her hands and leaned down, softly pecking your lips with her own. You couldn’t help humming a smile against her mouth, reaching up to deepen the kiss, but she pulled away before you could.

“Scaaaaar…” you pout, looking up at her mischievous smirk as she winked playfully.

“(Y/N)...” Scarlett sighed, swinging her legs over your body to sink into your lap, one thumb now caressing one of the most prominent features on your face. A nasty, jagged scar ran down from the the top of your forehead, over your right eye and finishing just past your jaw bone. One (E/C) iris lighter than the other as a result of the old wound. Soft lips chase away the shadows of your past as Scarlett replaced her thumb with her mouth.

“(Y/N), I don’t want to find you dead in some alleyway because you picked a fight you couldn’t win,” a finger poked your chest as she huffed above you, feigning irritation. You roll your eyes, (E/C) landing on your gear now strung across the table. That raven helmet almost calling to you as you shook your head. Disagreeing with your wife was never a good idea, but you were feeling particularly bold this evening.

“Look. So many jobs have opened up recently. We have so many opportunities to make this life more comfortable. More jobs means more money, more money means we can afford the gate toll and actually see the world above ground. And I can finally buy you an actual ring.”. Technically, you two weren’t married. Who the fuck would be stupid enough to perform marriage ceremonies in the underground City? But, it was easier than saying you were devoted to each other in every single way.

Lightly smacking your chest, Scarlett raised herself from your lap with a hefty sigh. “One of these days (Y/N), you’re going to be captured or killed,” she said quietly, unable to meet your eyes. “And then what the hell will I do…?” Scarlett had now completely turned away from you, shoulders hunched. Running a hand down your face, you pick your sore body up from the chair, reaching her in a matter of strides.

“I can’t give this up, Scar. You know that. You knew that when you chose to be with me. You knew The Nest was always going to be my priority,” you held out your arm, hand hovering over her back, not sure whether to comfort her or let her go. The admission almost had her in tears, you could tell by the way her shoulders shook ever so gently.

“You still miss him don’t you?” It was her vulnerable, defeated tone that alerted you to the slight change of topic.

You fell silent, not really knowing how to respond. Yes, of course you missed him. You loved him more than anything. But those days are over, you knew that. You’d cried enough those following nights after his disappearance.

He was probably dead anyway.

“Of course I do,” you wouldn’t lie to her. That wasn’t fair. But you knew the truth was just as painful for her.

“Will I ever be enough? Will I ever be enough to replace him?” the sound of her voice had your heart in pieces. You loved Scarlett. You really did. But your heart wouldn’t let you love her wholly. Part of yourself will always be dedicated to that grumpy kid you’d fallen for all those years ago.

“Scar… I—”

“I know,” she whispered, stepping forward away from your outstretched grasp. “I know,” you watched as the woman you loved, and who loved you, stepped from your shared quarters, hovering in the doorway. “I’m sorry I asked,” she closed the door as she left, leaving you a frustrated, conflicted mess.

⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈

“Understood, I’ll bring them in right away. Thank you Niles,” The Commander of the MPs stood opposite Erwin, arms folded. An expression of irritation plastered on his sunken features. Erwin simply sighed, realising Niles was wanting to stay for this seemingly impromptu meeting. With a nod of his head, a cadet rushed off to find the two soldiers mentioned in their little conversation. Being Commander of the Scouts often had its perks, like having cadets around to run errands for him.

Niles cleared his throat, taking a seat on the green leather sofa within Erwin’s office. “You sure he’d help us? I mean, it wasn’t too long ago he actually decided killing you was probably a bad idea.”—he raised a thin brow, peering at Erwin with barely concealed suspicion—“I’m pretty sure the Underground City would be the last place he’d want to return.” a knock at the door cut their conversation short, both turning their heads as Erwin called;

“Enter.”

Hange was the first to make her presence known, poking her head in as she opened the door. A smile adorned the slightly dishevelled section commander, her hair sticking up in all directions. Clearly she had been in the middle of something when Erwin requested her presence.

“You asked to see us, Erwin?” her eyes sparkling with curiosity behind her glasses as she stepped through the door.

“Tch, just make it quick, I have shit to do,” the monotone voice of Levi behind her made Erwin pinch the bridge of his nose. How many times has he told him not to talk to him like that?

“Yes, come in and make yourselves comfortable.” Hange immediately took up a seat next to Niles on the sofa, Levi preferring to stand against the now closed door, arms folded. Erwin’s sharp eyes shifted to Niles, an indication for the MP Commander to speak.

“Well, no point in beating around the bush. We’ve received an anonymous tip about some criminal gang that’s been plaguing my soldiers in the Underground City.” Levi visibly stiffened at the mention of his old home. His jaw tensed in anticipation. There would be only one reason he would be called into such a discussion, and the answer was a firm no.

Without his permission, his mind flashed back to a (H/C) girl, her face etched with that ever mischievous smirk. He quelled the thoughts as quickly as he could. He needed his wits with him, and allowing his mind to wander back to what he’d left behind wouldn’t help anything. Besides, the likelihood of you being alive was close to none.

“Section Commander, I don’t suppose you would have heard of the group but Captain Levi here surely would have done. The Nest.” Niles continued, now eyeing Levi to gage his reaction. And for a man whose emotions were usually on a tight leash, this seemed to be what cracked his impenetrable walls. His eyes flew wide open, frantically searching between Niles and Erwin. They couldn’t be serious. The Nest? That was where Farlan and Isobel used to—

Shit, he really needed to keep his thoughts at bay. But what he did know was that The Nest was an impenetrable fortress of criminal activity. Trying to mess with them was suicide.

“Judging by your reaction, I’m going to assume you are familiar with them, Levi,” Erwin’s surprisingly calm tone eased the growing tension in the room. Taking a subtle breath to calm himself, Levi’s eyes narrowed to his commander.

“Yeah. I know of it. Why?” it was a rhetorical question, he already knew why, but he wanted to hear it from Erwin himself. Hange looked incredibly confused, looking between the men in the office, trying to glean something, anything, about what the hell was going on.

“The Nest? Why are they so bad?” she asked, not afraid to show how completely oblivious she is to anything that doesn’t concern titans or science. Erwin gestured to Levi.

“Levi? Care to explain? You probably know more than myself and Niles combined,” though his voice seemed kind, there was a slight edge to his deep tones. One that didn’t go unnoticed by Levi.

A heavy silence filled the room as the Captain wracked his brain for all the information he could think of regarding the organisation. It seemed like hours before he finally spoke.

“Well, you got one thing right. The Nest is a criminal organisation. A nasty one at that. Merciless bastards. Whether you’re a soldier or a citizen, they don’t give a shit. They’ll leave you a broken, bloodied mess in the street. I don’t know much about their leader. Only that he took over from the previous one around ten-ish years ago. Since then, they’ve expanded their shitty little gang and taken over an entire section of the city,” he explained, poison lacing his tone. It wasn’t that he was above the whole gang thing, oh no. It was more the state Farlan would be in before he left to meet whoever the fuck led that group of demons. He’d never seen his friend so anxious. So afraid.

“You never met him? Their leader?” Erwin inquired, lacing his hands together on the desk in front of him. Levi scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“If I had, I would tell you. But I know he’s smart. And not the good kind of smart. The kind of smart where he would always be ten steps ahead of you. He has a small group of trusted criminals surrounding him at all times, called his Shadows. They’ll be the ones to look out for,” Despite his voice sounding bored, Levi’s heart was racing. They couldn’t seriously be thinking of facing The Nest, could they? But something in the expressions of both Niles and Erwin told him he was wrong. Dead wrong.

“They’ve been picking off my soldiers. Always in the same places as well. I was going to leave it, just tell them to avoid certain areas until this tip. Their next job. We know what it is,” Niles interjected, looking down to the floor, his own mind a whirlwind.

“And you want to intercept them. The same way you did with me, right?” Levi finished through gritted teeth. This was absurd. There was no way they could pick them all off. Unless… that wasn’t the goal. Levi’s grey eyes widened slightly, realising what they wanted to do. Yep, this was total suicide. Hange clapped her hands together almost excitedly, as if she was also able to read Erwin’s mind.

“You want to capture him! The leader! Ah! This all makes so much sense now, I was starting to wonder why I was here,” the scientist mused almost to herself, before jumping to her feet. “This is the perfect opportunity to test some of the concept traps I have in mind. Obviously for titans they’d need to be much, MUCH bigger. And of course a few modifications would have to be made so they could adapt to size and body type but oooooooh this is so exciting! I’ll start right away!'' Without allowing anybody to get a word in edgeways, Hange dashed back to her lab to begin her preparations.

“Thank you Erwin, the Military Police will remember this,” Niles said, before he too was rising from his seat. Throwing Levi an unsure glance, he made his way towards the door, only to be shoved into the hallway by Levi, who promptly closed the door behind him.

“Don’t.” he simply said, turning back to Erwin who was peering at him, his expression puzzled. Levi rolled his eyes again, clearly having to clarify what he meant. “Don’t pursue them. It’s suicide,” The Commander’s expression relaxed slightly in understanding.

“We don’t have a choice, Levi. Not only are hundreds of MPs being slaughtered down there, but relationships between the Scouts and the MPs are strenuous at best. It would be in our best interests to—“

“Bullshit.”

Erwin sighed again, having to hold his tongue. Snapping at Levi now for his language would only rile up the man more.

“Levi, we already have a plan in motion. There are soldiers down there now meeting whoever gave us that anonymous tip to further discuss the job The Nest has taken. It’ll be fine, but you’re going to have to trust me.” Erwin’s eyes bore into Levi’s own, the man once again asking his Captain to trust him in a risky call he’s made. Levi’s done it so many times before, why was it so difficult now?

It took yet another pregnant silence before Levi eventually yielded.

“Fine, but don’t be surprised when we’re once again forced to retreat with our tails between our legs.” it was a savage comment, but one that Erwin didn’t take to heart as he watched the raven haired man leave. Yes, this was a risk, but all his risks so far had worked out fairly well. There was no reason why this one would fail. No reason at all.

Levi leant against the door to Erwin’s office, looking down the hallway before letting loose a long breath. Not only would he have to go toe to toe with The Raven, but he also had to face so much of his past he’d wanted to forget. Fuck, this was a terrible idea. Why did Erwin always have to gamble? It was exhausting for everyone else involved.

Folding his arms, the shorter man strode back to his own office, lost in thought the entire way. Would he see you again? Were you even alive? Did you know just how much he had missed you. Just how much he’d wanted to see you again. To hold you again.

Did you know he’d looked for you? How his heart shattered over and over again each time he found no trace of you. He’d never accepted you were gone. Always holding onto that thorn of hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d survived.

Collapsing in his chair behind his desk, Levi unlocked the bottom draw and gently pulled it out. He delicately picked out a small, ebony bird feather you’d crafted into a quill pen. Even though neither of you knew how to write, you knew back then how much he had wanted to learn despite never voicing it directly. All those nights spent copying out basic letters from discarded newspapers and wanted posters. You always had this way of reading his mind.

The smallest fond smile crept across his usually bored face. God he missed you. It had been years and he still missed you like he only lost you yesterday.

[semischarmed]

Projection

Have I ever told you about how the astral plane works? So, here’s a little secret about me. I’ve been dabbling the past few years a little in lucid dreaming. Well, it turns out I have a knack for it, and it’s amazing, I can go around doing whatever I want. I climbed Mount Everest, flew through the skies, visited Paris. The possibilities are literally endless. And, me being me, I like to go around in these dreams trying different ways at possessing people.

Of course, since it’s still a dream at the end of the day, the experience is somewhat detached. As fucking hot as it is, flooding my dream self inside my hot neighbor, or phasing into that cute barista at the Starbucks down the street, I always wake up to a sense of disappointment. There’s only so much the brain can make up. I’m not particularly smart or imaginative either, so it honestly feels like half my energy is spent just trying to maintain that dream.

So that led me to try other means. Of course, the next logical step was astral projection. Unlike a dream, when you project, you yourself are experiencing the world- the real world. I wanted to try my hand at projecting into people.

I found a book online that detailed specific steps on how to achieve this. I think this was where the trouble began. In addition to being a great lucid dreamer, I was apparently an astral projection savant. The book mentioned it could take months before I could manifest my full body outside the physical plane, and years before I could untether and explore the world. It took me two days before I was able to leave my own body and jump inside people.

All things considered, astral projection is a bit of a dead end. I thought I’d be able to jump inside people, control them, live as them, fuck as them, the works. Well, the human body is resilient. It knows what soul belongs in it, so there’s not much to do inside someone, you can’t really influence what they do, and people seem to pick up on the odd sensation of someone else being in the room with them, so even when I do jump inside someone masturbating or fucking, half of them stop on the spot. Still, when you’re in someone who’s a little more fearless, you feel their body as them, and, let me just say, it’s hot being inside someone when they masturbate. It’s like feeling your own hand do the deed, but you feel it as them. You feel every muscle, every feeling, every thought. The hot ones kind of suck at it, but the afterglow is pure bliss.

This book gives one strange rule on projection though: Twins, especially identical ones, are unique. They hold a special bond. “Do not project into a twin.” Given this ominous warning and my curiosity, and given how much of an expert I already was at this whole projecting thing, I had no choice but to try.

———

The first time I projected into a twin, was magical. Of course, I knew immediately who I wanted to test this on. The hot twins who lived down the street who were especially close. They seemed to have different people over all the time so at the very least, they were active. I had my sights on one particular twin: Chase. Goddamn what a specimen.

I decided to go into a sleeping Chase as a trial run during one of my late nights. The twins apparently slept on the same bed, which was a bit weird but was perhaps a testament to to their closeness. I thought it was kind of cute. Like with all projection, the body resists the intrusion and I have to claw my way into him. Easy enough.

Chase’s twin Caleb immediately stirred with eyes closed in confusion- “Chase... are you there?” The slumbering Chase did not respond. Upon closer inspection, I caught sight of Caleb’s slumbering form talking to the spirit of Chase that he took inside himself. Oh shit does this mean what I think it means? Then I decided to move inside Chase’s body while his form followed my spirit’s commands. I knew it.

The first thing I did once I realized I had full control of Chase, of course, was to start playing with this new dick. In my excitement, I was immediately drawn back into my own form, awoken by my raging hard-on. Damn it! Fucking tease. I decided to finish beating it out, with Chase’s hot bod on my mind and a resolve from then on to get better at this projecting thing and stay longer inside him.

I made a fascinating discovery that day- a discovery that had probably prompted that ominous message in the first place. Twins are already naturally connected in spirit, so when you astral project into a twin, you can displace them and the owner’s spirit actually has a welcome place to go.

———

The second time I projected into a twin, I went into the wrong one. Equally unfortunate  was that they seemed to have just had a fight, sitting in and angry silence before going to their respective rooms. I really should have done more research as far as who lived where because the person’s back that I slammed into was none other than Caleb. Likewise, it was apparently possible for twins to resist the displacement. This one was a fighter. The first thing I try to do in his body is flow into each limb and untether him. This proved to be fruitless, as he was easily able to fend off my attacks, kicking me right out of his body. I wasn’t one to lose a challenge so I again attempted a different route this time, concentrating all of me into his mind- control the mind and the body follows. Failure again. My final route was perhaps the cruelest, I expanded and positioned my soul to encompass all of him and began an all out barrage for control of his bod. Back and forth, my spirit squeezed in and out into him from all sides until he could no longer defend himself.

Finally, his soul submitted and I felt an emptying motion, accompanied by a quick shout from the other room. “H-What the fuck!” Chase barged in, visibly shaking, hands on his head in a mix of pain and confusion. He looked at me intently with an emotion I could not attribute. In response I gave a quick smirk and flipped him off with his own body before stating “Caleb, you’re pretty cute too. You like this? This is mine now.” As I start doing poses with his body, the emotion of my temporary twin became clear. Desire.

I stripped shirtless and began doing push-ups with his body, easily clearing 70 before finally breaking a sweat. I stood up and raised my Caleb arms, imbuing the room with his scent. Caleb looked on from Chase’s body with silent intent.

I then used Caleb’s nose to sniff his own armpits, used his own tongue to lick it clean, used his own mouth to flash him a demented smile. “Caleb, you taste very good, just like your hot brother,” I stated “-cmon, join meeee Chase... let’s do something sacrilegious” I ended with a wink. Of course, my fucking body woke up again, just when it was getting good. In the process, Chase also fell unconscious, as the real Caleb returned to himself. As I felt the last of my spirit be pulled back, and the waking world return, I caught the troubling sight of Caleb, back inside his own body, furiously masturbating over the events that had transpired.

——-

The third time I projected into a twin, he fell into depravity with me. Truth be told, I was again making a beeline right for Chase because, come on, look this face. Just as I was about to claim that tight ass, I felt myself get dragged into Caleb. A-fucking-gain. This time felt different though- he was still in the body with me. That in itself wasn’t too odd, given our fight from last time, but even  stranger this time around was that his body was willing. It readily welcomed my soul. His form followed my spirit’s every move, yet I still felt his soul present, compliant. I decided to do what I meant to do in Chase and began masturbating. At the end of the day, they were twins after all, Caleb was still fucking hot to cum through, and I was not one to miss an opportunity.

“Well I think today’s little trip is gonna be a two-for one” I said with his voice as I finished. I then purged myself from Caleb’s physical form and headed straight for Chase until I felt a part of my current body pull me back. My spectral form attempted to claw myself back towards Chase, but Caleb’s pull had been too strong. He wasn’t letting me go. My spirit recoiled and slammed right back into his and I felt a part of myself stain Caleb. “I didn’t say you could leave,” he commanded, forcing me to watch as he began to rub our body with his warm seed. Hot. We both brought some of it up to our shared mouth, taking in all that we had just completed. “If you want, I’ll let you go so you can go inside that asshole Chase”, he states, “Make him dirty like me...or I’ll have to”. That last line definitely threw me off. Though I meant to to investigate further, I again felt the pull of the waking world from my own body. He moaned a quick “thank you” before passing out.

The return trip to myself equally odd. The human body naturally resists a little before accepting a spirit, even when it’s the owner of that body but somehow mine accepted me with no push back. Something was off.

Still, being inside these twins was fucking hot and I was not going to let a few unfounded fears stop me. I set plans for my return trip to them.

———

The fourth time I projected into a twin was also the most impactful. I once again aimed for Chase, but immediately ran into a confusing sight...

Standing before me was Chase, or rather, Chase’s body, unconscious in frozen discomfort. As far as his soul, however, I could see its form convulsing and contorting in pain. I then catch sight of the cause of that pain- Caleb’s spectral form was somehow deep inside Chase’s filling into him. It’s like watching an infection in real-time.

I stood, or rather hovered, in silence at the bizarre display I had witnessed. Evidently, that was a mistake, because before I aimed to leave this terrifying sight and head back, I notice Chase’s unconscious form raise its head, turn right at me and give me a toothy, wicked smile. “I can see you”. Chase’s body licks its lips. “You probably didn’t know this but independent little Chase over here has been planning on leaving for a while now. Said we should split. Move to a different cities. Live out our own.” Chase’s body opens it’s eyes and starts walking to Caleb’s slumbering form. He leans over and starts making out with the unconscious Caleb. “Oh Caleb” he moans “Don’t worry. I’m never gonna leave you” Chase’s lips gently pry open Caleb’s and he snakes his tongue inside. Parts of Caleb’s cheek puff up and back down as Chase’s tongue explores every crevice. He sucks a little before letting out a satisfied sigh “so...so that’s what I taste like,” he says breathlessly.

Chase then starts playing with himself right next to his twin’s sleeping form and I couldn’t help but get a bit aroused. “You always were the hotter twin” Chase says to himself as he continues tracing his own calloused hands all over. His attention moves to the unconscious Caleb, who he stops first to ponder for a moment before beginning to pump. He then positions Chase’s mouth over his original body to expertly deepthroat his own dick. This stirs the Caleb body to life, and he makes them both finish on each other off.

With both bodies, Caleb finishes licking himself clean. “Since it’s all me over here, this is technically just masturbating” he says confidently, as if to justify the disturbing sight I just witnessed. Caleb then positions Chase’s sweaty body behind his and has Chase wrap his sweaty biceps into an embrace from behind. “Like I said bro [moan], I’m never leaving you”. Two amused pairs of eyes then look directly at me. “You’re never leaving us either right? We have to thank you somehow for this,” they say, gesturing at their incestuous selves. I am immediately creeped out. After thinking for a few seconds, they chime in unison “Welcome to the family! We have a present for you”. With that, Caleb drops unconscious. That was signal enough for me, giving me shock I need to head straight back for my body.

Of course, by the time I get there, I instead see my own self, sitting naked, eyes rolled back and moaning as he maneuvers my hands all over. I see him continue to explore me, twisting my nipples, which, fuck that feels good, masturbating me, using my own body to maneuver in ways I never did before. With Caleb inside, my body moves with a confidence I never had. The experience is surreal. The sheer pleasure more or less stuns my soul on the spot. When my physical body finishes cumming, Caleb brings our hands to scoop it up and, oddly, it tasted different- slightly salty, slightly sweet, slightly Caleb. He sniffs our armpit and, again, the scent was rank, putrid, and nothing I’ve ever created. What was coming out of my body was undeniably Caleb.

“Mmmmmm... property of Caleb now” he says with my voice, as he rubs my Caleb-smelling sweat all over. Admittedly this was kind of hot. With an assured stride that I didn’t know my body could perform, Caleb opens my door, greeted by a Chase carrying his own unconscious twin. Caleb brings my body to his own and starts defiling himself. He turns his own body around and starts fucking it with my penis. Fuck that also feels good. With each pump, his own body starts to animate, ever so slightly. When he finally cums, my physical form falls unconscious and Caleb stirs awake. I take this as my chance to get back inside me. Success.. and god with Caleb smeared all over me, I smell disgustingly good.

“You’ll never leave me, right?” The body in front of me questioned. I’m a bit taken aback and try to stammer out a response “Uh...-“ before I could finish, Chase penetrates me from behind. “That would be a no” He whispers before giving my ear a playful bite. Why did he have to be so cute. This whole series of events was something straight out of my dreams. Despite this, my self preservation instincts kick into overdrive. Whatever this is, however good this feels, I need to get out. Fast.

As if he could read my mind, Caleb’s body smiles as he makes his twin use his rough fingers to gently grab my hair and pull me back. He leans Chase over to give me a deep, sensual kiss. “Oh well, Chase isn’t here anymore. Caleb took me, all of me. We’ve always had a deep connection... but he wanted more-I trusted him and he used that love to get inside me, pervert my soul... he’s in so deep inside me now that Caleb is all that’s left.” He wipes his sweaty face all over mine and continues making out. He then starts gyrating his hips, pushing more of himself inside my body as the Caleb body does the opposite and swallows more of my still-hardened rod with his ass. I feel the throbbing almost impossibly deep inside me from Chase’s dick as they proceed. “Thank you for this” they moan in unison.

They continue humping me from both sides, locking me in a paralyzed bliss. “We wanted to give you something special for keeping us close” they say. Then I felt it in my soul. Caleb. He pulls my spirit out and with his twin souls begin to fuck me in the astral plane. The feeling is indescribable. Nirvana. Bliss. Ecstasy. Enveloped by and merged to Caleb and Chase’s spectral forms, completion. This could be me. This could be us forever.

Then reality snaps back and I am floating alone. I finally regain my composure I try to head back to my unconscious, smiling body. No dice. “Occupied” it says with a chuckle. I head for Chase’s instead, “mmmm getting close” it moans. My body grins wider and motions to the unconscious Caleb. He spits with both bodies at his own motionless form. “Go ahead, take you new place, Caleb”. With no other option, I fill into the empty Caleb shell.

Chase and my body then start fucking each other. Hard. Messy. He’s doing more things with my body that I didn’t even know was possible, and as the original owner of my body, and the current inhabitant of Caleb’s, I feel both motions amplified. Im sure he feels the same.

As Chase, he turns my body around, and again rams his thick dick inside. My body involuntarily gasps, which causes me to gasp inside of Caleb. He forces a wicked, dirty smile out of my body’s face as he plunges ever deeper. He slips Chase’s sweaty abs onto my body’s back, wraps tone, sweaty Chase biceps over mine into an armlock from behind and takes plump Chase lips into a quick peck on my body’s cheek. My body then sags unconscious. Despite the sight, the smell throughout the sweaty combination was undeniably just Caleb’s.

Chase’s eyes flutter and his body trembles as Caleb repossessed his twin’s body with the extra soul he stuffed mine with. With double the soul inside, Chase exudes double the vitality and in that sweaty embrace, Caleb again gyrated his twin’s body into mine as he fills it with double the seed- double the soul. “T-thank you for the house warming present. I’ll take real good care of you-you’ll take real good care of us” he moans, as Chase’s body now goes unconscious as well. Dread fills me.

Aside from the odd cases with twins, human bodies know who their masters are. The act of imbuing a soul into a different body is, in and of itself, unnatural. So it was at this point that my empty body starts involuntarily writhing, trying to escape. I see tears well in my closed eyes, still unconscious from effort. Of course, as Caleb, I motion to protect myself from whatever was going to occur next and set to pull my unconscious form off the Chase embrace. Before I could pull my body out of the entrapment, it shoots awake, face swinging upward to face me. Bright white eyes shoot open. Behind my skin I see a force pushing deep inside, stretching it unnaturally. The visage of Chase appears, beneath my flesh, wearing my face like a mask. Though it’s Chase’s spirit he melds, the smile growing is undeniably Caleb. When it all settles, eyes roll back into place. Instead of my normal eyes, Chase’s pale blue orbs appear in their place. The crooked smile grows to a laugh on my body, teeth looking odd, until I realize it was Chase’s own molars poking through my own mouth. He takes shallow breaths and smears more sweat around himself, and though I can’t place if it was my own body’s sweat or Chase’s, the smell emanating is fully Caleb. Bones crack, skin shivers and stretch and contract and construct and I feel, from my own soul, a massive wave of nausea.

If astral projection into another is, in itself, an unnatural act, astral displacement, astral merging was another layer of corruption entirely, it was unholy. He was changing something in me, fundamentally. Wave after wave of Chase’s flesh bleed into my body from Caleb’s onslaught. My nausea shifts into a unique pain, a pain of the soul, originating from where he stuffed my physical form full of Chase’s seed-Caleb’s seed, mixing and amalgamating us into a wholly new being. Musculature appears in place of the frame of my body’s previous shape as more and more of it is twisted and contorted. Then, perhaps in one last push of defiance, my body screams involuntarily, and I, in Caleb, scream.

“So you’ll never leave me, like he planned to” Caleb says, with a mix of my voice and his, as he rams the last, massive part of himself into my body. My physical form’s face contorts in discomfort one last time before Caleb settles it into satisfaction. “Look at us” he states as he runs vascular new hands over my body’s new face and then uses that new face to give me a seductive wink. “We’re cute as a button”. The transformation was complete- my old self no longer recognizable in the new brother he had created.

The change, of course, had hit my soul as well. From inside Caleb I screamed...convulsed...shook... moaned... you know, the works. When that last bit of Caleb dug inside my spirit and changed me, I truly felt him, felt my twin, felt his love. I’ll be a better Chase for him than Chase ever was. Our souls are bonded for life. I am a part of Caleb now, and he is a part of me. Everyone experiences it differently, but we’re all grateful after to have Caleb inside us, to be a part of something greater. I like to think I have the extra privilege of being his twin, new and improved, wearing his old body’s skin while he wears and controls mine. And sometimes, with his permission, I get to play around inside the others. Sometimes we switch and he lets me jump inside Chase, like I’m doing now. The only body off limits is my old one. I like to think that makes me special, it’s the only body Caleb keeps his soul in 100 percent of the time. It’s proof of our special connection. And he wears the new me so well, better than I ever could anyways.

And, well, that takes us to today doesn’t it? Why even tell you all of this? Caleb likes you. I like you. We like you. And we think it’s time to expand the family again. You got some good traits to work with- we’ll get a lot use out of that bod, after a few adjustments. You’re probably feeling a little sleepy now. Sorry, guilty, that was me. Oh this thick Chase dick you feel inching deeper inside your ass? Yep, obviously also me. But, cmon future bro, dig deeper, listen with your body. What else are you feeling? Do you feel our love, throbbing in you? Do you something else, leaking inside? Do you feel these calloused Chase hands pulling you ever deeper into us? Do you feel him? Do you feel Caleb already worming himself into you? Good. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you. You’re gonna love us. We’re gonna be fucking hot together after we’re done with you. Welcome Home.

—End —

Wanted to explore something a little different with this one. Hope y'all like it!

[legoshi-plz]

How about birthday prompts (Like how they celebrate your birthday and how you celebrate theirs)?

Warning: NSFW-ish themes (Riz and Bill’s part),

All Characters are adults, around mid-20s here. So basically a couple years after college. Except for Gouhin, Oguma, and Gosha who are their canon ages.

Reader is Gender Neutral

Louis:

Your Birthday:

- Mr. MoneyBags here is going to go all out as far as expenses go.

- Fancy Dinner at an elegant restaurant, picks you up in his ridiculous sports car which you’ve rode in a million times but it’s still exciting. (Also, Louis drives extremely fast. He’s a good driver but if he’s not going at least 30 miles over the speed limit, he feels like he might as well be parked in the street. Also has a bad habit of running red lights and stop signs just because he can.)

- Buys you a brand new outfit just to wear to dinner and has it delivered to you in the morning in a red velvet box with a silk bow. You’re a little uncomfortable with the whole high society scene but you go along with it anyway for Louis’ sake.

- At dinner, he orders for you. He has a bad habit of doing that, even though you’ve told him multiple times you’re capable of making your own decisions. At least he usually orders you something you end up liking.

- Night concludes back at his place, he pulls out another velvet box similar to one from this morning except this box is much smaller which only meant one thing: jewelry.

- “Louis... Are there diamonds in this?”

- “....”

-“Louis...”

-“.... Maybe...”

- You refuse to accept the overly expensive gift, refuse to even look at it. You give it back to him and you could see he’s a little hurt but you assure him you know he means well but everything was just a little too much and you felt out of place.

- He accepts your criticism gracefully even if he is a little frustrated you wouldn’t accept his gift he spent so much time picking out. He promises to tone it down next year.

His Birthday:

- You actually really hate Louis’ birthday because he almost never spends it with you.

- He always works on his birthday, not seeing it as important enough to halt business.

- You’ve tried everything from bribing his assistant to haggling his bodyguards but nobody can get Louis out of his office in his birthday.

- You’ve learned to let it go, and usually surprise him by doing something special the week before.

Legoshi:

Your Birthday:

- All about being sweet. Values time and effort over anything and hopes that you see it that way too.

- Makes you breakfast in bed, he’s a pretty good cook all things considering (it’s a skill he picked up while being a waiter.)

- Takes you out for lunch, the two of you spend the day doing pretty regular couple stuff but you’re just happy to be there with him.

- Your present is something that’s both useful and to your taste, like along the lines of a sweater or cardigan in your favorite color. He makes sure it’s oversized because he knows how much you love to wear his sweaters and he even has your name embroidered in small cursive letters above the heart.

- You love your gift and how the two of you spent the day.

His Birthday:

- You two spend it almost identically, just with he roles reversed.

-Legoshi is still a little uncomfortable with extra attention so if you want to incorporate his friends into anything then you’ll have to be really stealthy about it.

- No surprise parties please, he literally would melt into the floor with embarrassment. Best to take him somewhere and his friends slowly join in organically (or at least, you hoped it came off as organic but it really didn’t)

- “Hey Legoshi, fancy seeing you two here at this restaurant in this reserved section. Mind if I join ya?” By the tenth time that exact excuse was used, the cat was well out of the bag.

- Legoshi appreciates your efforts though, even if he’s not one for attention. He sort of clings to you the entire night, whether it be holding your hand, gripping your thigh, encircling your waist, etc. as long as he’s touching you, he feels calmer and it helps tone down his anxiety.

- Overall, Legoshi’s the type to be fine with almost any birthday celebration (or even none at all) as long as he can be with you.

Juno:

Your Birthday:

- Makes you do something spontaneous for once, even if you’re hesitant.

- Takes you somewhere like Skydiving, or Paragliding, or Bungee Jumping. If you’re adamant about making it to your next birthday not risking your life then she will settle for something a little more mild like Scuba Diving.

- Can not stop gushing about how hot you look in your wetsuit and flusters you in front of the Scuba instructor (he’s an older Walrus and finds it cute to see young animals in love).

- The two of you end up having a blast and you’re happy you went along with Juno’s plan, even if it tired you out completely.

- Once the two of you get home and shower, you collapse onto the bed and fall asleep almost immediately, the exhaustion from the deep diving really taking it’s toll.

- Juno enters the bedroom holding a cake with lit candles and wearing brand new sexy lingerie she purchased just for you to rip off of her. She’s a little disappointed to find you unconscious but she figures it is your birthday and you can sleep if you want to.

- She blows out the candles for you and puts the cake in the kitchen, then she throws on a robe and snuggles up next your slumbering figure.

Her Birthday:

- She wants to travel for her birthday and she can’t think of anyone she’d rather take a trip with more than you.

- You two go somewhere hot and tropical, probably somewhere near a beach (she loves any excuse to wear a bikini and sunbathe)

- You two probably find a bar near the beach and get drunk, her moreso then you because you start to sober up as the night goes on so you’re able to take care of her.

- You take her back to the hotel and tuck her in after helping her get ready for bed. She a giggling, flirty drunk mess the entire time but it still makes your heart soar because you know she had fun.

- Before she falls asleep, she whispers to you that this was her favorite birthday yet.

Riz:

Your Birthday:

- He’s waking you up with morning head, no way around it. You wake up to him kissing your neck, then your collarbone, down your stomach and he just keeps going down until he has you whimpering and falling apart beneath him.

- Then the two of you take a shower together and he’s making you cum for him in a totally different way.

- But once you finally pry his humongous paws off of you, you think you’ll be able to relax but he has other plans.

- He sends you off to the Spa. He’s not going in with you because he wouldn’t be caught dead in one but buys you the best top of the line experience . You enjoy the peace and relaxation but you’re kind of lonely and just want to be with him.

- When you get home, he presents your gift to you which is probably something big and wooden that he made himself because he’s great with his hands and actually an amazing craftsman. Probably something like a intricate Wooden Gazebo outside so you could sit and enjoy your garden.

- “Riz, how the hell did you get this back here without me knowing?” You ask, your arms still wrapped around his neck from where you squealed in excitement, lavishing him with kisses.

- “Built it off site, just needed a few hours to install it,” Riz winked, cupping your ass with both hands and lifting you up so your legs could wrap around his waist.

- “So that’s why you made me spend my birthday alone?” You pouted.

- “Yeah, m’sorry about that, baby. But I can make it up to you...” Riz growled, carrying you inside to the bedroom.

“Wait, I wasn’t done looking at my gift,” you giggled as he began nipping at the fur at the base of your neck.

“Trust me, it’s not going anywhere,”

His Birthday:

- Riz loves nature and outside in general. So for his birthday you plan a camping trip deep in the forest.

- You don’t tell him anything about it, you just make him request two days off of work, no questions asked.

- You two leave early in the morning, drive deep into the forest and then you spring it on him. You also let him know that if he doesn’t like the idea, theres still time to turn back and spend his birthday in the city.

- Not a chance if that happening though, this man LOVES the outdoors. He’s already halfway out the car before you could even put it in park.

- The two of you have a blast setting up the tent, making the campfire, cooking dinner over said campfire, and communing with nature.

- “There’s a river that runs north of here, it’s about a 15 minute walk from here, I figured we could go fishing there tomorrow morning,” You tell him as you sit in his lap, admiring the fire.

- However, the two of you don’t make it there until we’ll into the afternoon and it was a miracle you made it there at all. Riz had fucked you senseless last night, the atmosphere of nature giving him a newfound surge of energy. It’s a good thing no one was around because the two of you were almost embarrassingly loud.

- Anyways, Riz thoroughly enjoys his weekend of wilderness and fucking you like a wild animal all throughout the forest. You enjoy it as well despite the fact he has you almost limping by the end of the trip.

Bill:

Your Birthday:

- Honestly, he forgets. If you wait on him to remember or ‘surprise you’, then you’ll only end up ruining your own birthday.

- If you remind him on the day of, he takes you out to eat at a nice restaurant but it’s still very last minute.

- If you remind him the day before, he’ll at least get you a gift but it’s last minute.

- Overall, if you want to actually enjoy your birthday with him, you better plan it yourself

His Birthday:

- Plans an entire house party himself and invites everyone, it seems, but you. He wasn’t exactly aiming to exclude you, he just thought it’d be a given that you would be there. However, if you didn’t show up, he wouldn’t really notice either way.

- It’s wild and crazy. A ridiculously huge amount of people show up and there’s alcohol coming from every direction, and Bill is soaking up every ounce of the attention.

- Once you finally had enough of being ignored, you go home. You doubt that Bill will even notice you’ve left.

- You’re at home, showered, and about to head to bed when your phone starts ringing. It’s an unknown number so you let it ring out. But then they call back again, and again, and again. Disturbed, you accept it on the fourth call just in case it’s an emergency.

- “Finally they picked up! Y/N? You there?” It was one of Bill’s friends. Apparently in his drunken state, he went into a rage when he couldn’t find you and had been crying for you to come back for almost an hour. He was inconsolable and his friends knew there was only a matter of time before he started a fight at his own party. You were irritated but you still allowed them to drop him off at your place.

- The second you answered your front door, the giant tiger in question was all over you, squeezing you right and asking why you left him. You helped him inside and laid him in your bed.

- He cuddled with you for maybe 10 minutes tops before he was out like a light. You end up falling asleep next to him, finally enjoying a little peace for once tonight.

- That peace doesn’t last long though, Bill wakes up the next morning horny. Like extremely horny. You wake up to him grinding against your thighs, whimpering and begging to let him fuck you. You give in to the belated birthday boy and he proceeds to give you the sloppiest, most sensual, earth-shattering morning strokes of your life. You’re so mind blown by how good he fucked you, you forget about how angry you were with him.

- After a well needed shower, he takes you out for breakfast to apologize for how much of an ass he was on his birthday. You accept but tell him if he ever pulls something like that again, he can look for a new lover.

Collot:

Your Birthday:

- Surprisingly wants to spoil you on your birthday but unlike Riz, he actually minds being apart from you (he’s hella clingy, he just hates to admit it) so whatever activities he has planned, the two of you are doing it together.

- Takes you to a fancy resort, somewhere in the mountains where it’s cold and there’s snow on the ground even during the summer months.

- The two of you attempt skiing but you’re terrible at it and he ends up laughing at you falling majority of it.

- You two also enjoy the giant jacuzzi the lounge has to offer but Collot can not keep his hands off of you and eventually you two have to run back to your room for a midday quickie.

- His birthday gift to you is something simple, like a necklace with your birthstone in it. You love it and allow him to put it on you.

- The rest of the evening, it’s just you and your man, walking along the Snow filled grounds, sipping warm apple cider, and enjoying the break from the rest of the world.

Gouhin:

His Birthday:

- This man wants REST. No need to go all out, his life is crazy enough the other 365 days of the year. Just give him some peace and relaxation and he’s good to go.

- He also loves your cooking and wouldn’t be opposed to you cooking him a huge meal.

- Also loves your body and wouldn’t be opposed to you doing that thing that he really likes in bed ;)

- Your gift to him would be something he can use but also is a little unnecessary. Something like a ridiculously fancy, golden calligraphy pen for his office or a brand new crossbow with genuine leather straps. He’s pretty hard to shop for so it’s always best to go with something he already has, just a newer model.

- Honestly just wants to spend his birthday with his baby (you) as if it’s any other day.

Gosha:

Your Birthday:

- Gosha is so lovable, he’s probably more excited it’s your birthday than you are.

- He’s picked up quite a few skills over the years and baking is one of them. Bakes you a giant birthday cake in your favorite flavor. You’re grateful he was so thoughtful and made such an extravagant cake but there’s no way you’re going to finish this entire thing.

- You end up inviting over friends just to get rid of some of the cake, which they’re more than happy to do since it’s absolutely delicious.

- A few of your friends bring group dishes and fancy wine and soon it’s a whole party underway. The small gathering is actually a blast and you can’t think of a better way to spend your birthday other than surrounded by the people you love.

Oguma:

Your Birthday:

- Mr. Moneybags 2.0

- Gets you a crazy expensive gift like a brand new car and calls it a day.

- Not really much for spending time or celebrating traditionally. But to compensate, he’ll buy you the world (even after you’ve repeatedly told him you don’t need all that.)

- Probably won’t even see you on your birthday because his schedule is so overbooked but sends you plenty of gifts to remind you that he loves you.

- It stings not seeing him on your birthday but at this point in the relationship, you don’t really expect anything else from him.

[herstarburststories]

Calamitous Love

Paring: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Dean shows up at your house, but this is a calamitous love. Sooner or later, it's going to destroy.

A/N: I was based and inspired by so many things to get this ready, I can't even start pointing them here. This started as something and escalated to something else, and I'm immensely in love with how it is now. I'm posting a version of this through Dean's POV soon. The prompt is bolded and its for @tvdspngirl314's bday challenge! Hope you like it, honey! And happy bday.

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, fluff, angst, dean is a perv in a cute way, s1 dean Ily

Dean Winchester could easily remember how mad you were that night, after he purposely came to your party uninvited and stood on the porch talking to all your stupid friends. How the one you called the best out of them had wide eyes when she caught him there, and all the reaction she could get was him winking at her.

The man - who was more like a boy, really - with green eyes that matched your garden knew she would run and rush and breathlessly tell you that he was there.

Of course she did. Inez was never one for keeping secrets. He used to wonder if it was a matter of time for the blonde to spread yours.

Her loose lips were useful that night, though. He couldn't even finish his chatter about Chevrolet versus Toyota cars with that James guy before you bursted out of the door ferociously. Dean turned around and waited for many things; well-deserved slapping, indignated tears, a sharp scream strident enough to suppress the loud song which vibrated through everyone's skin like veins.

You surprised him once again.

You closed your eyelashes and took a deep breath, as if to control the burning fire behind your thoughts. The Winchester had seen her in arguments before, the whole ‘my mouth is a loaded gun without a trigger’ thing held an entirely new meaning. He knew you wanted to come at him, and Dean wouldn’t put any guilty on you for that. As you walked towards him, his brittle heart raced like one of those chick flick moments he always mocked about - yet, he couldn't help but stare. Your legs looked so good in that light, pretty ass that Dean loved to grab wrapped in a tight red skirt. You had a white tank with cleavage on and your hair was, as usual, free on its widest way. The hunter adored how your brown sea could never seem not to be a mess, and how you made chaos marvelous like a natural. He surely needed that in his life.

Isn’t it all you had been since the very beginning, honestly? Isn’t it what love utterly is when the lights are dim and the weather changes? Cutting right to the bone like a surgeon, you were that one thing, that one hand that would touch Dean’s weary head and make it rest, those unique lips who could whisper tales of hope in the backseat of his car and he could actually believe it. The one, you know, that one person who didn’t make the eldest Winchester feel like he cared more than he was cared for. He often experienced that math problem, dad never seemed to be satisfied enough to be proud of him, and Sam was always talking about how he wanted to leave someday.

‘’Dean.’’ You said and your tone was harsh, a single eyebrow arched with a quiet defying question. The green eyed man wouldn't be shocked if you had called him out before when he was too busy paying attention to you to notice. ‘’Let's go to the garden.’’

And then you grabbed his wrist, sneaking in through the rusting garden gates in the back of your house. Such mere touch put his skin on flames. So many others, mostly monsters or people who were really monsters at heart, already chained his hands and he always broke the cuffs. This time, in your hands, Dean almost wished he could stay put, grounded to something else other than bloody walls and oily guns. He missed you so much. The way your fingers felt on his cheeks, how you'd allow him to kiss every inch of your body, and how you seemed to understand.

Anyway, it wasn't time for him to turn sentimental just yet. Leave it to Sam. 

Dean’s boots were cruel against the grass, walking side by side with your high heels ones. Above all the partying noise, they both were quiet for once, as if they were going into a clandestine meeting.

He hated it.

‘’What the fuck are you doing here?’’ you turned around in a swift move before crossing your arms. It took a lot of self control not to glare at your breast, which is why Dean didn’t. He pictured it wasn’t that bed since he was only glancing for a few seconds and the malicious smirk on his face faded into him licking his bottom lip through the memories of fucking, grabbing and playing with them. You rolled your eyes, impressed by my immature behavior. ‘’Winchester, I asked what you are doing here.’’

Always so dominant in every situation but in bed. He sighed to himself, man, I can’t lose her.

‘’Listen, Y/N/N, I’m sorry.’’

‘’You are sorry? You can take your apologies and put them in your sorry ass till’ they come out of your mouth, Dean.’’ And, of course, stubborn. Dean Winchester wouldn't be so attracted to you in any other way. Frisky women always had the best him.

He groaned, ‘’Y/N, come on, it wasn't like that--’’

You interrupted his reasoning with a laugh empty of joy: ‘’You left me. You just walked away. No calls, no texts, just left. You promised you wouldn't. You said I could trust you.’’

‘’And you can!’’

He wasn’t able to blame you for that. Still, it broke him to hear every casual syllable in raw honesty. Dean would kill for you, and you didn’t even trust him because he ran away without any note, or previous warning, or anything. If only he could do the trick of just opening his mouth and allowing his emotions to come arrive, like Sam did all the time. All he tried to be, his little brother was simply born that way. He could never be like Sammy and you deserved a guy like him. Yet, the bruised man - more like a scared boy, really - remained in front of you. Because, for once, Dean wanted to act selfish and get it what he craved for. Just this once.

‘’To leave? Sure.’’ Nonetheless, you never learned how to read his mind, so you just aim a wry smile at him. ‘’Sorry, pal. I already have my mom to do that.’’

In that moment, every word you said was a stone designed to shatter him, and it was working fatefully. Sometimes, the green eyed hunter wished he was the one being left instead of leaving people behind. But how could you know that? It's the job side effect.

Taking a deep breath, your name is leaving his lips calmly. The most calm he had ever been since my three childhood years. ‘’Y/N…’’

‘’No, Dean.’’ You spoke. Because his forest eyes matched a lot with the grass in your garden under that dim light, almost like he was made to be there and you didn’t think you could do it again; lose him. It was too much.

‘’Dang, woman. I'm trying to explain!’’

‘’No, you are trying to come up with a stupid lie to cover up whatever you were doing for two weeks! I'm not stupid and I know you.’’ You accused, exasperatedly slapping your own tights. You were right, he had showed up to your party with a dumb excuse on his tongue, ready to tell you anything but the truth. Fuck, how the short haired hunter wanted you to have the imaginary money to buy one of his cheap lies. ‘’Tell me the truth. Don't come up with my dad needed help with a car and all that. What happened to you, Dean?’’

‘’I can't tell you.’’ He shrugged in frustration. 

I want to tell you everything, even the details in the corner, the monster in the forest.

You smile sarcastically, ‘’I don't see a fold on your lips.’’

But I can’t.

Dean huffed, pursing his lips. ‘’You would hate me.’’

You would think I’m a crazy liar.

‘’I already do.’’

You can be so violent when hurt. You both have bullets in different body parts, and there you are trying to shoot him. Modern Romeo and Juliet, a hunter romance; they try to kill each other instead of the evil thing.

‘’Y/N, you are gonna think I'm crazy.’’ He wiped his face, exasperated for you to change the subject.

Your lips were shut, the light reflected on you. Dean was glaring at you in a quiet desire for you to stay, to make him stay. But you stand still, looking away with delicate woe contorting your features.

It was clear after a hunt when the hunter should leave the town. And it was clear now that he killed any hope for them that Dean shall do what he usually does after a case. Nodding with a sigh, started to walk away.

But you stopped him.

‘’What are you doing?’’ You, in fact, sounded confused. Dean’s eyebrows knitted together, unsure if you two were having the conversation he thought you were not even one minute ago.

The answer resonated more like a question than anything: ‘’Leaving?’’

Your next words were the equivalent to the three ones he had never dared to say. ‘’I don't want you to leave.’’

Yes, the Winchester’s heart was pouring as fast as it was when he went on his first hunt. Yes, he could hear an old rock song playing when you have that look on your face. Yes, he knew he was acting like Sammy and all his cheesy discourses right now.

Who cares?

Apart from all that, Dean offered you a cocky smile. ‘’What do you want, sweetheart?’’

‘’Kiss me.’’

And he did. You trusted him in the garden and he got you back. Dean kissed you in the porch in front of all your stupid friends, too. And then he kissed you again in my car under the streetlight and in so many other uncountable places.

He was the person who got left a few years after that. As if his sorrow had become the prey for some cosmic joke. Sammy left for Stanford and it made his dad, well, more dad than usual. The weird thing was, inside of the grief of being left, Dean understood what he did to you. He had a lot of blood in his hands, enough to turn an ocean red if he ever tried to clean them, but I knew that leaving you was the worst thing that I had ever done.

Well, at least that was what two bottles of Whiskey helped him to get to.

Dean guessed he got what you felt on your porch that night as well. When he walked in, you knew you'd forgive him but you needed to sting back. As Sam left, his older brother already knew he'd forgive him, too. Dean fought about it, and I felt betrayed- wounded animals still attack. But he had forgave him the moment he missed him.

You forgave Dean too, and nowadays he resented for that with an insufferable regret. Because then he told you the truth about the world and showed you his scars. He kissed you, and your lips found every ugly in him. Still, they kept asking him for more. Your lips were the bed for my monster to sleep under.

Real monsters found them.

A few years later, the trio was in a town. You had a vacation from college - you dated a hunter with 5 bucks to his name, and you were studying journalism in a conceited university. It made no sense to Dean sometimes. All you asked for was to spend your free time with him and a call each night to make sure he was alive, which he gave you happily. Besides finding a way to go near your city at least once a month, more for himself than anything else. How did he get so lucky?

You liked certain aspects of the hunter life, surprisingly. The driving away, the creatures, even the restaurants. ‘’Come on, you guys hunt monsters. How cool is that? Also just driving, eating in a new place everyday. Did I mention monsters are real? You guys are like heroes!’’

He shook his head at your optimism, stroking your naked form gently that night.‘’We aren't here, Y/N. This life, it ends early and bloody. There is no place for white fancies and normal.’’

‘’Who said that I want that?’’ You mocked right before pressing your lips to the hickey on his neck, gaining a content groan from Dean. ‘’You monsters. As far as I'm concerned, you are a hero. My hero.’’ You add a subtle joke. ‘’Like a fairytale.’’

He scoffed and pulled you closer. ‘’More like a horror movie.’’ 

‘’Haven’t you read fairytales?’’ 

‘’No, but I did see the porn version.’’ Done with talking, he got on top of you, wearing that lopsided grin that started it all over again.

Years back, he asked you what you wanted. And you said, kiss me.

You kept saying that for a decade. Growing that calamitous love, feeding it with stolen glances and touches. If you knew what’s next, would you do it again?

Now you are laying on the ground as he got on my knees and pulled you closer. You are almost dead, a half lifeless body, but you hold on so tight to life, gasping for it. His stubborn girl who he loved so.

Your voice, usually so determined, is barely a whimper. ‘’Everyone wants a fairytale love.’’

‘’What? Don’t get sentimental on me, Y/N. You aren’t gonna die.’’ Dean says exasperated. It isn’t blind faith, unrealistic optimism or anything like this. It’s denial, one of the stages of grief he’s familiar with. It lives with him, as loyal as a dog, as present as a long lost mother’s love; he ignores the acceptance and hope, jumping right into anger, guilt, denial, and bargains with the devil. As if death is a champagne problem he can just drink and be done with because hey, if you can’t lose something, then you won’t right? Right? And if you do lose it, then you’ll just die too. Someone loses oxygen, they die. Someone loses too much blood, they die.

He will die if he loses you, he will. Dean is devastatingly sure of that. He can feel it in his bones. If you die, he dies. His body, his cicatrized soul was made out of in woe. That man - scared little boy like he was when Mary died, really -, He knows sadness like an old lover who always visits, and death is an old friend who always shakes his hands and appears without an invite. Dean Winchester knows pain, alright? Ask any person, he’s the Rome for men, built in ruins despise the beauty of good.

But this? No. He can’t survive. It isn’t possible that someone can hold so much suffering and agony. Skin and bone can only take so many hematomas. 

‘’Dean, shut up.’’ You place your hand on his cheek and Dean can’t help but lean in. His green eyes are glistening, the memory of the garden reminiscing in the back of your mind. ‘’I’ve wanted a fairytale love since I was a kid and my dad used to read the books my mom left on the shelf for me. So, in my defense, I never actually read them.’’

‘’Is this what a fairytale looks to you?’’ The eldest Winchester asks, not missing how your touch is colder against him. Where’s Sam with the car? Where’s a miracle? Where’s the justice and fair things and anything good? Dying in his arms, sinking her fingernails into his skin.

‘’The original ones, yes. They are just like that.’’ You chortle, but what’s meant to sound like happiness develops into a cough. All the energy and strength you have are used to push the words. You need Dean to know. ‘’I don't regret anything. You loved me, and I loved you. This is good. I don’t want your silly little mind to think any other way. You aren’t the villain in my story, Dean. You are the…’’ You’re interrupted by your own body giving up on you at an alarming rate, more bloodstained coughing.

‘’Don’t speak, honey. You’ll be alright, okay? No goodbye, we don’t do goodbye. You’ll be alright. Just keep yourself awake, ok?’’ Dean doesn’t know what to do other than hold you. What does one do with all the throbbing aches? He can’t say he will see you in heaven if you die. Staying with you for ten years was heaven already and this is the price he pays. That’s like when the ocean drains in a flash right in front of your eyes and someone tells you to swim in the sky instead. He can’t jump high enough to get it, he isn’t tall enough to get it. But God, Dean can’t just give up, he can’t just let you go. You are bleeding out and he’s dying with you. ‘’Please.’’ The Winchester pleas. ‘’Don’t leave me. Please.’’

If this is how you die and you can only pick up some words to say, you need to spell love. You need Dean Winchester to know he was loved with your last breath, there’s no better use to life other than love. Therefore, it’s easy to know what to voice when you look into his eyes one last time. ‘’I love you.’’

Through the agony, Dean gives you the sort of smile... You know, the sort of smile that can only be described by I put my home on fire, so I could eat all the flames and all the bright blaze is in my teeth now. Because something is burning and you are becoming ashes, but you love this. You love that boy and he loves you. You’d do it all again. He rests his forehead against yours and you can feel his tears on your face, his hands holding you for dear life.

‘’I love you too.’’

It’s a good thing to hear as you close your eyes.

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[jaskierswolf]

A Night Alone With You

Written for the below prompt and cross posted on my AO3 ☺️

Oooh for a prompt: some tender hurt/comfort for Geraskier please ☺️ Like maybe Jaskier is having a hard day and is sad in bed and Geralt comforts him or something like that @geraskier-trashh

__________

To look at Jaskier Pankratz, you would think that he thrived when he was around people.

That wasn’t strictly true.

Yes, he did love people. He loved pleasing people but most of all he loved the music. He sang and he danced and he flirted with the crowd but it was about the music. It was only ever about the music.

No one expected a famous troubadour and poet to retire to their room alone at night and whilst he was more than happy to have a warm body to lie with, tonight he was fucking exhausted.

He’d been performing for three nights straight and every evening he’d been surrounded by beautiful people that had demanded his attention. He needed a break. He needed to hide under the sheets in his rented room. He needed to spend a week in the woods with just the taciturn witcher for company. He needed to get away from all this noise and people.

He just needed to recharge.

Then he could go back to the extroverted bard that everyone knew and loved.

He finished his song with a last strum of the lute. He smiled brightly at the crowd and bowed whilst the final notes hung in the air. He gathered up the coins that were flung in his direction and gracefully declined any offers of drinks, then he scarpered up to his room taking the stairs two at a time.

His doublet fell to the floor and he kicked off his boots then he dove under the covers.

The weight fell over him and he could finally breathe again. He hummed happily and closed his eyes. In his head he wove the next few verses of his latest composition, picturing the story so very clearly in the empty darkness of his room. He muttered under his breath as he tested out the rhymes and rhythms of the lines. Occasionally he would scrunch up his nose as the story went somewhere he didn’t like, and then he’d start over. He kept starting over until the daydream and the story of his ballad followed the path that he wanted it to.

Eventually his eyes grew heavy as he told himself his own bedtime stories and he fell asleep with his head still buried under the covers.

___________

He woke up drenched in sweat and with a pounding headache, which wasn’t helped by insistent knocking on his door.

“Bollocks.” He grumbled and untangled himself from the sheets. He pulled them around his shoulders like a cape and yawned as he padded across the wooden floorboards towards the door.

“Jaskier.” Angela, the barmaid who he had spent the previous evening with, purred as he opened the door, clearly aiming for seductive and on any other day he would have been delighted.

As it was it took all his energy not to slam the door in her face.

“Is everything alright?” He mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He peered back at his window. It was still dark outside and he could see the moon even from across the room.

She pulled at the lace of her bodice and sauntered into his room.

“It is now we’re alone.” She dragged a finger down his chest, pulling at his half opened shirt.

Fuck.

“Ah. I see.” He mumbled and extracted himself from her grip. “No. Thank you for the offer but I would really rather get some rest… alone.”

She raised an eyebrow and put her hand on her hip. “But last night?” She pouted.

“Was wonderful.” He agreed, and honestly it had been.

She sighed. “But not tonight?”

He shook his head. “Not tonight.”

She nodded with a frown, obviously hurt by his rejection. He leaned in to kiss her cheek and he squeezed her hand. “It’s nothing personal, darling.”

“Well, goodnight.” She pulled away from him too roughly and he sighed.

Fucking people, but at least she’d let it go easily, not everyone did.

“Goodnight, sweet Angela.” He whispered after her.

Then he sighed again.

“Bloody hell.” He groaned.

He pulled off his shirt and trousers this time, not wanting to overheat again and flopped back down on the bed. He jumped straight back into his composing, he couldn’t remember exactly which at point he’d fallen asleep so he went from the last bit he could remember.

Until there was another knock at the door just as he was starting to fall back to sleep.

“Oh fuck off!” He groaned. “Can’t a bard get some peace?”

“Jaskier.”

His eyes went wide and he jumped from the bed, pulling the covers with him. He almost tripped up as they tangled around his ankles and he crashed into the door.

Geralt!

He’d been out on a hunt the last view days and Jaskier hadn’t been expecting the witcher back for another day at least. There was a teensy chance that his worrying about the witcher had contributed to his foul mood and lowered his tolerance of people. It was mentally exhausting knowing that his best friend was out there risking his life for the thankless souls of humanity and there was nothing he could do about it. In front of people he acted like he had every confidence in Geralt’s abilities but in reality he’d seen the scars, he’d even seen a few of the wounds that left the scars.

No matter how good Geralt was, it never diminished the risk of him getting hurt.

Jaskier flung about the door and pulled the slightly startled witcher inside.

“Geralt!” Jaskier greeted him warmly. “How was your hunt? You must tell me everything!” He babbled on like he usually would. He didn’t want to cause Geralt any concern, especially if he’d been injured, by not being his usual verbose self.

Geralt hummed and slunk down on the edge of the bed. “Thought you’d have company?”

Jaskier shrugged.

Geralt scowled at him. “Are you alright?”

Jaskier stammered but slid down onto the bed next to Geralt and pulled at the covers so they were once again draped over his shoulders. “Yeah.” He drawled, the word sounding false even to his ears.

“Jaskier.” Geralt growled.

“I. I just needed a rest.” Jaskier mumbled.

Geralt scoffed.

“I needed to be alone.” He sighed and rested his head on Geralt’s shoulder. “Everyone always expects me to be so… ahhhh…” He gave a frantic wave of his hands, “all the fucking time. It gets a bit much, even for me.” He admitted, feeling strangely vulnerable.

Even around Geralt he was always the story teller and the extravagant poetic. Geralt struggled to express himself at times and Jaskier picked up the slack. He didn’t mind. Out of the two of them, he was the more eloquent one, and it was his role in their friendship.

Geralt grunted. “I can go.”

Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s hand before he could move and looked the witcher in the eyes. “No. Don’t.”

“You want to be alone.” Geralt looked, quite rightly, confused.

Jaskier sighed. “I don’t want to be around people.” He amended.

“But…”

“You don’t count as people.” Jaskier insisted firmly. “Please don’t go.”

Geralt smirked as he looked around the tiny room that was clearly made for just one person. “It’s cheaper to share.” He noted.

An excuse.

It was always an excuse. There was this unspoken… thing between them. It wasn’t quite a relationship but it was different to friendship. There was a weird tension there that never existed between two good friends. They shared bedrolls, actual beds, bath water, meals… practically everything in their travelling lives was shared. At first it had been out of necessity but the coin was steady these days and they no longer needed to share.

And yet.

“It is cheaper.” Jaskier agreed.

Geralt stripped off and cleaned up the best he could without calling for a bath. They would have to ask for one in the morning but at least Geralt wasn’t covered in monster guts this time. Once he was ready for bed he laid back on the mattress, his long silver hair spilling over the pillows. Jaskier still had the covers wrapped around him and he wasn’t planning on letting them go any time soon but Geralt wouldn’t complain, he never did when Jaskier stole the covers in the night.

Jaskier curled up against Geralt’s chest and let out a sigh of relief. He really had meant it when he’d said that Geralt didn’t count as people. He was one of the few people on the Continent that Jaskier could be around when he needed to recharge his energy, in fact it was almost better to be with Geralt than alone.

Still, even now, the silence was stifling.

Geralt’s fingers threaded through Jaskier’s hair as they lay there in the darkness and the silence. Jaskier felt like he could have purred under the rhythmic ministrations of the witcher’s hands, but the quiet was making his thoughts seem too loud.

They were always too loud.

“Tell me about the hunt.” He asked, tentatively breaking the silence.

Geralt’s hand stilled in his hair for a few beats but then he started again, tugging at the knots where Jaskier had been messing it up earlier in the day.

“What do you want to know?” Geralt answered with his own question, his voice a low gruff rumbling in the dark.

“Everything.” Jaskier breathed. “Make it up if you have to.”

He could practically hear the eye roll from Geralt. “I’m not making it up, Jaskier.”

“Then tell me all the wonderfully nerdy things you know about vampires.” Jaskier insisted.

“It was a bruxa. You know they aren’t just vampires. It’s more complex than that.” Geralt grumbled.

“There we go. Just like that. I like your voice.” He admitted. “It’s soothing.”

Geralt scoffed. “Says the bard.”

Jaskier whined and buried his face into Geralt’s chest. “You don’t even like my voice.”

There was a beat of silence.

“I do.” Geralt grumbled.

“Nah.” Jaskier muttered. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.” Geralt’s hand moved from Jaskier’s hair down his back and Jaskier felt himself being pulled closer. He snuggled into Geralt’s chest quite happily.

“Tell me.” He asked, bordering on pleading.

Geralt took a long heavy breath as he gathered his thoughts and it took all of Jaskier’s patience not to push his friend.

“You have… fuck.” Geralt snarled and buried his face into Jaskier’s hair.

Jaskier stayed silent but drew out the pattern from his lute on Geralt’s chest as best he could from memory.

“Your voice is home.” Geralt mumbled. “It’s warm. Beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” Jaskier’s heart began to race in his chest and he had no doubt that the witcher could feel it too.

“Hmm. Yes, like the sirens only you don’t try to kill me.” Geralt seemed to laugh at his own joke but Jaskier was still stuck on beautiful.

“You think my voice is beautiful?” He squeaked.

“You are beautiful.” Geralt replied with such sincerity that Jaskier felt like he was going to burst.

Instead he let out a stream of sounds and pulled the covers over his head.

“Jaskier?” Geralt asked quietly and tugged at the edge of the sheets but Jaskier held them tight.

He was blushing too much.

Geralt thought he was beautiful.

Geralt.

Oh fuck!

He whined pitifully.

“Is. Is that alright?” Geralt’s voice was muffled through the covers and Jaskier could barely hear anything over the sound of his own heart. “Your heart, are you ok?”

“Fuck, Geralt.” Jaskier groaned and pulled the covers from off his head, glaring at the witcher. “Are you trying to kill me?"

Geralt seemed taken aback. “No?”

“You. You’re being all… nice!” He sat up and waved his hands in the witchers face. “It’s. It’s too much.”

Geralt frowned. “You don’t want me to be nice?”

“No. Yes. No. Oh I don’t know!” Jaskier jumped up and tried desperately to calm his heart.

Geralt huffed. “You are being confusing tonight.”

“Yeah well, I’m not feeling like myself.” Jaskier muttered. “Sorry.”

“Jaskier?” Geralt slowly sat up and moved towards the end of the bed, like he was scared Jaskier would spook and run a mile.

He wasn’t wrong.

Jaskier licked his lips and wrapped his arms around his chest.

“Forgive me if I’m reading this wrong. I’m not good at, well, this.” Geralt snarled quietly and frowned then took a deep breath.

“Reading what wrong?” The words fell from Jaskier’s lips before he could stop them.

Geralt didn’t answer. Instead Jaskier was pulled back towards the bed and Geralt’s lips were hovering over his so tantalisingly close and yet so far. Jaskier whimpered as his knees knocked against the edge of the mattress. One of Geralt’s hands was holding his wrist and rubbing circles against the skin there with a thumb, the other was cupping Jaskier’s cheek so tenderly. He could almost hear the swell of music surrounding them in the moment. Geralt’s warm breath tickled his lips and Jaskier swallowed.

Gods, if Geralt didn’t kiss him now then he was fucked.

Royally fucked.

“Can I?” Geralt murmured, his warm amber eyes watching Jaskier intently, taking in every movement of Jaskier’s eyes and every shaking breath.

“Please.” Jaskier stammered.

And Geralt kissed him.

Oh gods, did Geralt kiss him. It was everything Jaskier had ever dreamed of and more. It was tender and slow where he’d imagined it would be rough and bruising. There was love where he’d imagined there would be pure lust. There was a hand on his wrist, pulling him down to sit with Geralt on the bed, where he’d pictured hands in his hair and being pushed up against a wall.

He couldn’t breathe.

He didn’t want to breathe.

He didn’t need to breathe.

He just needed Geralt.

Fuck.

Well perhaps he did need to breathe a little. He panted as he pulled away from the witcher. His eyes were still shut, he couldn’t remember shutting them, but he was scared that if he opened them then Geralt would disappear and he’d be alone, truly alone.

“G-Geralt?” He mumbled.

Geralt rested his forehead against Jaskier’s and Jaskier let out a sigh. His eyes slowly opening to find the witcher gazing back at him.

Gazing with such adoration that Jaskier was sure he’d stepped into a fairy tale or a dream.

“Is this alright?”

Jaskier let out a small laugh. “Yeah. More than alright. It’s perfect.”

Geralt smiled. “So I haven’t ruined your evening?”

Jaskier pulled back and hit Geralt lightly in the arm. “Geralt!” He pouted.

Geralt shrugged. “You wanted to be alone.”

Jaskier pressed his lips against Geralt’s in a chaste kiss and then bumped their noses together as they pulled apart. “My darling, there is no one else I would rather be alone with, but you.”

[not-using-this1]

You deserve me

I can’t help myself when it comes to angst/fluff my favourite genres to write about, honestly. 

Anyway another gamerverse Black Widow oneshot for y’all :)

Y/n blurts out to Natasha that she loves her, as they argue. Nat, ends up telling her that those feelings aren't 'real' because she doesn't believe that anyone could love someone like her.

Prompt/s:  Prompt/s: 'I have been in love with you since the start. So don't tell me that my feelings aren't real.' and 'I want to be with you'

Readers age is 24 (mentioned that Nat is older)

Warnings: mention of kidnapping & swearing (like one swear word I think)

You were supposed to be preparing for the next mission to do the the tachyon rifts tomorrow but you just couldn't focus. One of those reasons was because you couldn't stop thinking about a kiss you shared with a particular woman a week ago. It had been eating you alive, the redhead had also been avoiding you like the plague and that upset you more than anyone could know.

Kate had been trying to get it off your mind for the time being, being your partner in the HARM room instead of Nat and also being your partner during missions when in a group. To be honest it worked for at least three days but then Nat kept coming on the smae missions as you.

You mostly go on missions in a group with Kate, Clint, Cap and Thor but the redhead had been filling in for Clint these passed days. Of course, there was those odd missions where you'd all go together but otherwise that was your team, mostly. You were grateful for Kate being here for you, the two of you were quite inseperable to the point you poured your feelings about Natasha to her over beers in Clint's old room on the Chimera.

But tonight was different, Kate had gone on a mission with just Clint and you felt rather alone. Of course you could go talk to Tony or the others, even Kamala but you just didn't feel like it. So just sitting around your room was the only option. Playing (favourite band) over the stereo attached to the laptop on your desk.

Trying so hard to distract yourself from your own mind, although you were rather hungry and the lounge/kitchen area on the chimera was looking like a good place to be right now.

So, walking out of your room you headed straight for the kitchen...only to be greeted by Natasha who was busy making herself some sandwiches as per usual. You wanted to say something to her, atleast start conversation but she took one look at you and completely turned herself around to face one of the SHIELD members that were working on here for you guys.

Saying just a simple 'hi' was clearly not an option but all you wanted to understand was why she had been avoiding you. If she didn't mean to kiss you why the hell didn't she just say anything, sure it was in the heat of the moment...you missed when she cared about you, you missed the way she held you close after that mission but clearly that was all just nothing to her.

Hearing her slight chuckles talking to the SHIELD member really made you upset to the point you thought about just walking away and crying alone in your room. But you had to be strong, you had to get all your feelings out.

Out of nowhere you grab Natasha' arm, yank her towards you. The older woman let out a gasp but she didn't even fight it. Dragging her over to a quieter place on the chimera, which was a small room in the hangar where nobody could really see the two of you. You let her go and tried to contain yourself from punching her by putting your hands to your side, fighting the urge.

"I am sick of you avoiding me, Romanoff. I feel like I've done something wrong to you. Why the fuck don't you just tell me whats going on?!" The tone in your voice was a very clear indicator that you were indeed very pissed at the woman and you had every right to be.

Natasha stood there with her arms folded, rolling her eyes at the younger woman who she had obviously upset...she cared but she didn't want to show it in case something bad could happen to her, she didn't bother to speak a word. "I don't understand why you've been avoiding me? We're both adults why can't we talk about this? Us" you continued.

Natasha let out an irritated sigh keeping her mouth closed "why won't you just talk to me? What the hell did I do to you?"

"I don't want to get too close to you! You were already injured once for just caring about me, when AIM had captured you I knew that I can't be near you again because they-

"Are you kidding me? I am apart of this team anyway so either way they would of caught me just for having powers to! It's too late Tasha you can't walk away from me just for that! I'm fine aren't I?" You yelled at her and this time was pretty sure the small group of people working in the hangar could hear the whole situation.

"Yes but if you get killed- And why can't I?"

You sighed, trying to calm yourself down as best you could. "Because I'm in love with you! And I don't know about you but I know you love me to! I don't care if I could be a target just for being close to you, I'm an avenger and also inhuman Tasha, so either way I'm a target regardless."

You were trying so hard to not breakdown in front of the black widow, you couldn't let yourself do that now but the fact she had hurt you this passed week just made you so vunerable. Silence crept over the two of you for a good few seconds. Nat stood there rather speechless. You were scared because nothing came out of her mouth.

"Please say something" you felt as if you were about to cry, that this was it. "You're not in love with me, you can't be. This...it's not real." Thats all she had to say? Oh you were even more upset than before.

You tears run down your cheeks but you weren't ready to give up just yet you could tell that when she said those words it hurt her to by the tone of her voice. You knew straight away.

"I have been in love with you since the start. So don't tell me that my feelings aren't real" you yelled out to her, tears down your face as you said those words. Expecting Natasha to just walk away from you...but she didn't.

"I want to be with you" you added as you cried "I want to go back to the way things were between us, I want to wake up with you by my side when we just fell asleep in your room, those conversations, the HARM room and partners on missions. That smile when I make you laugh." Trying to wipe your tears away was proving to be difficult when all you did was kept crying.

"I don't deserve love, I don't deserve someone as amazing as you. How could you love someone like me?" You couldn't believe that she would ask such questions, of course you were very aware of her past, what happened to her and what she did but that wasn't who she was anymore.

You approached her, grabbing her hand "Tasha, don't say that. You deserve love, you are amazing, so caring and as for 'how could I love someone like you' I love you because you're you, I don't care about what you did in the past because you don't do that anymore. Your a better person because you right those wrongs by choice...And I love everything about you, Natasha Romanoff."

Nat looked at me and smiled, she nodded her head "I love you y/n" she replies.

"And I love you Tasha, now can we just-"

Cutting you off she pressed a kiss to your lips, her forehead placed gently on hers “don’t leave me” you add. 

“I never will”.

[m3kuroshirt]

Mine

Words: 1454

Prompt: fog (here) and escape, flight, and hiding (here)

Warnings: mild violence, blood, and nsft

 Ichigo didn’t know how it had happened. He was supposed to be sparring with a certain blue haired arrancar in the barren deserts of Hueco Mundo, underneath the barely lit sky. One minute he was fighting a normal, completely usually half deranged Grimmjow. Then a bright flash as he called out to Pantera, something not normal, sand swirled around his body almost mimicked a deep fog, shrouding his body in sandy mist.

Then he was thrown back, his head and back connecting against one of the few still standing red pillars Aizen so loved. One of the like four he hadn’t destroyed all that time ago.

Grimmjow looked different. His hair was longer, almost white, with some black tuffs in front, a blue...light? blazing down his face and chest, right towards his hollow hole. Black velvety fur sprouted up to his elbows, claws long and sharp. Legs more cat like, with those damn ankle blades he hated so much. Black fur turned gradient white, leaving little black rosettes in its wake, not that he had time to admire them.

Ichigo didn’t see it coming. A feral growl ripped from Grimmjow’s form, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little afraid. He’d never seen him like this. The guy was half out of his mind on a good day, and now he had to deal with this?

Has he reached a second release like Ulquiorra did? Segunda etapas?

The red pillar shattered as he barely had time to doge a strong kick aimed at his chest answered him. He’d take that as a resounding yes.

He didn’t know much about cats, or big cats, or arrancar cats or anything of the sort, and yeah, he figured running away wasn’t a great idea, but he had to escape somehow. Or at least, put a little distance between them. Figure out a way to get Grimmjow back to normal. Ichigo had thought he was just releasing his usual ressurection, but he was sorely mistaken. Did Grimmjow mean to do it? Honestly, he had no clue.  

Taking flight into the sky, he scanned quickly for a good place to lay low. Hiding was rarely a strategy he used—always felt wrong— but he didn’t actually want to kill the guy. Since Harribel had obliterated the dome of Los Noches, everything was shrouded in darkness again, the bright fake sun Aizen created long disappearing into the ever-changing desert. The moon was a small crescent in the sky, not letting much light shine against the desert and its eternal white sands.

He didn’t have much time to look, as he was tackled violently to the ground, claws piercing his skin and into his flesh. Blood trickled down his arms, sticking his shredded shihaksho sleeves to his skin. Fuck, he thought. Now he’ll be able to smell me, no matter where I go. So much for hiding then.

Well, that was never his style anyway, he’d do it the usual way instead. Punching and kicking and swinging around—damnit to hell where’s Zangetsu?!

He looked wildly around as Grimmjow flung him into the sand like a particularly large mouse, but saw no sword. Had he thrown it? Damn, he was going to get an earful from him later. He could almost hear the screaming.

Ichigo growled, realizing he should’ve taken Urahara up on that option to teach him some basic healing kidou. Now he had to deal with a fighty, completely feral, second released arrancar who’s only goal was to kill him, or so he had so eloquently said half a billion times, with clawed up, bloody arms and no damn sword to speak of.

Speaking of which, Grimmjow hadn’t actually let him go, instead flashing a row of impressively sharp teeth and he leaned down towards his throat.

Double fuck.

He couldn’t live through two goddam wars and die by having his jugular snacked on by this idiot—that would be embarrassing.

With a pained snarl, Ichigo ripped his arms out of Grimmjows clawed talons, and pushed him off, sending a new wave of blood down his arms and onto…just about everything he touched. Well, tried too. Grimmjow was a lot stronger in this form as well. Even Ichigo could see his arms straining against the arrancars face as he barely moved. He’d also maybe torn some tendons, he really should’ve been paying attention in his anatomy classes.

Blood on his hands smeared across Grimmjow’s face, and Ichigo felt a couple of his fingers get lost in the sharp cavern of his mouth.

And triple fuck, he thought with a low groan as Grimmjow’s mouth closed around his fingers, this is just a whole orgy fuckfest. If he got out of this one alive, Orihime would kill him. Tatsuki had been having a real impact on her, and shit she’d rip him a new asshole if he showed up with only one hand and ligaments hanging on his outside.

But instead of teeth through his fingers, snacking and crunching on the digits, he felt a leathery, rough tongue wrap around his index finger, lapping and sucking the blood away, before moving onto the middle. Something long and soft wrapped around his other hand and he cracked open his eyes (when had he closed them??), and saw the black tail, with the same blazing blue stripes around him.

Heat flooded his system as he watched Grimmjow work on his fingers, before moving onto his palm, lapping at his blood like it was nectar. The red stains on Grimmjow’s own face didn’t seem to bother him, Ichigo wasn’t even sure he noticed, as he barely felt himself being pressed back farther into the sand.

Grimmjow’s rough tongue traveled down his wrist, and his clawed hand tore away the rest of Ichigo’s shihaksho sleeve, and drug his tongue over the wounds.

Flinching at the pain, Ichigo tried, gently, but firmly, to pull away. There was no way that was sanitary.

“Grimm…”

The words died in his throat as the arrancar locked eyes with him, blue eyes hazed over in lust and want, and Ichigo swallowed. He’d never been looked at like that before. Especially by Grimmjow. Not that he hadn’t imagined it, oh no. He definitely had, being chased through the desert until he was close to collapsing by a feral arrancar with only one thing on his mind…Nel wasn’t the only masochist. He just kept his cards closer to his chest.

Grimmjow lowered himself so his face was closer, and buried it into the top of Ichigo’s sweaty head, puffing out air against him. Ichigo felt his nose twitch against his forehead, and Ichigo couldn’t help but fight a small smile. This idiot was scenting him, or something very close to it.

So much for wanting to kill me.

Grimmjow lowered further and pressed most of his body weight against him in the sand, mouth now latching onto Ichigo’s. The roughness of his tongue felt strange against him, but Ichigo found he didn’t hate it. The more he felt it against his own tongue, across his gums and teeth, the more he liked it. He could taste the lingering copper of his own blood in Grimmjow’s mouth, and that only made him desire the arrancar more.

A clawed hand tickled the skin of his side, and Ichigo, not knowing when Grimmjow had ripped open the top of his shihaksho, gasped. Grinning into it, all teeth and tongue, Grimmjow swallowed the sound fully before detaching from Ichigo’s mouth with a wet pop and settled his sinful mouth against his throat, nipping and biting playfully at the exposed salty skin. He felt the rough muscle settle against his pulse and hold there for a moment, feeling the way Ichigo’s heart quickened.  

Ichigo felt himself buck up onto Grimmjow’s knee, which had settled in between his parted thighs, and groaned at the pressure, as Grimmjow sucked his way down his collar bone, leaving marks and bruises along his skin, he hoped.

Pulling away Grimmjow looked at his sweaty, wanting form with his sharp eyes, blown in lust, and licked his lips. Settling one palm in the center of Ichigo’s chest, he ripped away the last of his shihaksho, exposing him fully to the waiting arrancar. Clawed hands trailed lower, surrounding him and Ichigo tensed at the feeling. A squeeze, slow drag of curled fingers up had him gasping for air, clawing into the sand for something to hold onto. Above him, Grimmjow flashed his needle-sharp teeth and licked his lips.

Before descending on him, a low rumble left Grimmjow’s chest, almost like a purr, but louder, the vibrations traveling into Ichigo’s body, and uttered a word that made the shinigami shiver.

“Mine.”

[savebatsfromscratch]

WHUMPTOBER DAY 25 - Scuffle on the sand dunes

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Prompt: Escape / flight / hiding

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Also on Ao3 under my same username!

Grian is running from the Red Winter.

THERE IS NO WING INJURY!! (Needed to mention because there are plenty of otherwise great fics that I can't read due to not knowing if they contain my one and only trigger. *sigh*)

This is sort of awful and only two pages in my google doc but whatever. (But I hope you like it anyway!)

-I don't know what genre this is-

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Tw/Cws: Violence, referenced death, sort of implied shipping (Scarian)

Words: 1,203

Grian panted as he ran, wings half extended as he tried to find a good place to take off from. The red army had been on his tail for at least a mile now, and though it was clear that both parties were tiring, neither seemed to be giving up so easily. (Curse this land! He had never been best friends with any of the red winter, but he had never been on bad terms either, what had this awful place done to them?)

He hopped over a pile of gravel, flapping his wings to send himself over the three there were. (But not quite flying yet, he would be too good of an arrow target so close for the others.) He heard Ren make a short yell of anger as he had to dodge around the blocks, for, even though it was only a few blocks of difference, he was fully armored and having trouble running in the sand, and this kept him behind by quite a lot.

Legs shaking with the effort to keep running, Grian powered on, hair and feathers flapping in the wind to join the bursts of sand that rose from his steps. He was tired, and he didn’t want to keep going, but the fear of death kept him running. Jumping around cactuses and over casums. (Every move slowed more and more of the group following him, though he did notice that Martin was gaining. Those short-ish legs sure packed a powerful jump.)

This didn’t make him feel very good.

Martin had already proved that he was willing to kill for Ren, even if it meant leaving him at a red life in the middle of a permadeath situation. (And it was obvious why the drops of sweat had escalated in amount, now not only was Grian tired almost to death and in the middle of a desert, but also not able to throw off one of the only Red Winter members he truly believed to be capable of murder.) But as it turned out, he didn’t have to run much longer, for he had spotted a good place to start flying.

Grian felt a smile dawn on his lips as reached the edge of a dune, knowing that the extra space to flap his wings was always wanted in a high speed flying chase. (Much easier to take off if you weren’t either awkwardly fluttering or hitting your wings on the ground.) He braced himself for only a moment, so as to spread his wings and set up his jump. He would have wanted more time, but Martin’s breath was now clearly audible, and as Grian jumped and beat his wings downward, he felt a hand catch around his ankle.

He screamed as he was dragged down, body hitting the soft sand with a loud pompf sort of noise. But he wasn’t paying attention to the honestly humorous sound of him hitting the ground, because he was too busy dodging the stomping feet being aimed at his head. He rolled from side to side, sand clogging his feathers and sticking to his sweatshirt as he struggled to get away from his attacker. But due to Martin having a foot on either side of him, he wasn’t able to go very far in either direction. In fact, due to this, the man’s diamond boot came down on the center of his forearm. Pain instantly bloomed in a way that told Grian that he was going to have a bruise soon.

Retaliating, he flailed out to either side, hoping to unbalance Martin with one of his wings. On the first try, it didn’t work, Martin instead reaching down to grab one of them, intending to hold him in place by it. . . .But this didn’t end up working for him, because the second the grimy finger of his enemy touched the red-brown fingers, Grian flailed again.

This try was more successful, half due to how unbalanced Martin had become (what with bending over to hold a wing in place) and half due to the panic caused by said grabbing-of-wing. Grian shoved Martin off of him and hopped up to his feet. Listening to the angry shout from a now nearby Etho as Martin tripped over the wing he had previously been holding. But Grian could not watch him fall, he had to get out of here.

And so, he dove after Martin, spreading his wings and gliding a few feet before beating the feather covered limbs downwards. (Arms and legs close to his body as he anticipated the change in speed he was about to experience.)

Instantly, he shot upwards, two small clouds of sand sparking up after him, momentarily blinding Etho as the polar bear hybrid caught up with him. Grian felt an instant relaxing of his legs as he began to spiral farther upward. (Hoping to get above cloud cover, and therefore out of bow range.) Below him, he could hear Martin yelling angrily as he slid down the hill, and Grian could imagine the dune crumbling slightly as he fell down it. ‘Serves you right,’ he hissed to himself, still steadily climbing, ‘That’s what you get for chasing me for so long.’

Of course, Etho was smart enough to pull out his bow and begin firing, but due to Grian anticipating the move, the arrows didn’t do much to slow him down. (One whizzed past his face so close that it nearly took off his ear.)

But Grian did manage to escape eventually, the ear shattering shrieks of anger from the Red Army muffling after him as he dove into a cloud. Internally, he did know that he wouldn’t be able to get much farther, as the air had begun to thin, and his already tired body just didn’t need to deal with that right now, but externally, the cold weight of the water droplets felt rather nice.

He knew he should probably fly as far away as possible, but due to the ache in his wings (especially the one that he had overturned Martin with) he knew that he was going to have to rest soon. It wouldn’t cause any long term damage, no not at all, but Grian was smart enough to overwork himself. Unlike how Ren treated those below him. The robin hybrid scoffed at that, Ren obviously did not understand the way that muscles worked, if he had, then Grian wouldn’t even be in this situation in the first place.

What did they all agree to do in this world? Collaborate to find a way out? Yeah, that plan hadn’t worked out. It should have been rather easy to just keep together, but here they were, chasing each other with Power Three bows and Sharpness Five swords. Grian scoffed at this too, ignoring the fact that he had been a major part of the decay of the normality in their group. (If he didn’t think about it, it wouldn’t be real.)

Instead, Grian shifted his path to that of his and Scar’s base, excited to tell him about his little scuffle on the sand dunes. (And inform him to maybe be more careful who he stole the pants off of.)