#like it was so bad taking no pain relief would feel better probably holy fuck

[what-the-fuck-khr]

hey quick question I took Advil like. idk 10-15 minutes ago and now my dental pain has kicked up into the sharpest pain on planet earth that radiates into my jaw, other teeth, my upper jaw, my fucking ear and into my temple. is that. a bad thing. should I bring that up to a doctor

edit: addition is that this happened earlier today when I took Panadol on its own well after I took the Advil earlier in the day. I thought it was bc the cold water hit my already sensitive teeth and it freaked out but now it’s happening again so I’m just very confused and in sooooooo so much pain right now

[whenloveand-deathembrace]

3 days sober, working on my 4th today. I can't believe I'm doing this, like it doesn't feel real. If I can at least manage to get through this first month ok, I know it'll only be easier from then on. If bam margera of all people can make it a month, I can do it.

This is my first time attempting full sobriety (aka no zaza &no 'occasional holidays only' drinking on top of quitting everything else) since 2021 and holy fuck does it feel weird.

It's a relief to not stress over how I'm gonna get fucked up today, but it's so scary facing a life as insane and stressful as my own without at least some weed to smoke after a long week. I used to be able to control myself so well with weed, but when I lost access to my steady supply of alcohol, it was all I had and by that point I was so far gone that I just could not go a single day without being blasted off of something. Maybe one day I can learn to control myself better with weed (I mean like only using it for medical reasons bc I do have pretty bad chronic pain), but for now I need to take a step back.

At least my haunted house job will give me something to fill my time at the hardest part of the day for me, since I'll be working every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night thru October, until I can start actively skating again.

And I just wanna say I would've probably attempted sewerslide instead of sobriety if it weren't for my homie Riot. We've pretty much called all night every night since I first said I wanted to quit, and if I didn't have someone who I could talk to pretty much whenever that can actively keep me from thinking about drugs, I probably would either be dead or in jail or homeless right now.

Wish me luck with this you guys, I finally feel like I'm heading in the right direction. Life feels somewhat enjoyable again.

[aceghosts]

What is your OC's duality?

Hey everyone! I was tagged by @nightbloodraelle, @fourlittleseedlings, @direwombat, @detectivelokis, and @captastra to take this uquiz. Thanks!

I don't think I'm going to tag anyone in this as I'm pretty late, but if you want to do this, consider this your tag!

Blue Murphy

moon curse of the werewolf

you have found yourself hungered or sickened or ambitious to the point of emotional carnage. you are fine, until you're not, and then you could rip someone in your way apart with your bared teeth by complete accident, and later claw at yourself in fits of pain trying to apologize. do you look at the moon that blessed you in her name, at her marred beauty and baneful eyes, and wish she could just crush that loving-hateful heart of yours before it crushes itself? every bite you take out of flesh is a response to the threads of silver bullets in you that haven't healed. the duality is that the human inside is howling too, gnashing, and without the wolf pelt, everyone can ignore it and turn away. at some point, you got tired of the moon being your only witness. now the wolf is there to make sure others know that you are hurt, and deserving of humanity, of attention to wounds. because that wolf loves you; all of you; and knows when you are hurt better than yourself.

Commander Rooney Shepard

big bear; little princess

this is a fun dynamic isn't it? a big burly character, often aloof, finding warmth and love while caring for a little helpless person or animal. and so that's the duality here, one where you can be tough and butch and gruff, but that's because you're protecting a deep sense of wonder and delight for what you love that others have poked at before. it's not selfish to enjoy that side of yourself, and it's not weak to show it either. i promise i promise, the right people want to see you love.

Hunter Delaney

carnal and holy sinning (this is a love letter to myself)

you are the world's leading cross bearer of the most guilty conscience. you feel everything you touch turns to gold but in the way that it becomes molten and rich; and what i mean is that when you allow yourself impulse (which is not often) it leads to disaster. when you want someone it feels like sorrow, and you love the world like tacky honey, and you'll wish it could all feel less heavy. you look at yourself in the mirror and yearn to stake the heart and ascend with peace. someday, you'll rot into the earth, and the dirt will cave with you like a sigh of relief.

Riley Callahan

the most important person and the pale blue dot

it's you. you're the most important because you are here and alive on this planet, that, in the scope of it all, isn't even the most of anything. the silliness of how vast our home is and how many of us there are only makes each of us that much more incredible. every time you kiss the cheek of a loved one you are telling the Earth that she is important in all the little ways, and thanking her for making others to hold. and likewise, when you hurt one of hers, she festers, and when she is hurt by yours she reciprocates--bellowing, and bleeding. she is important because you make her big and you are important because she made you small. and so...take care of each other.

Emerson Wright

you and the hat man

oh boy you're fighting demons aren't you. it's like you're in a constant staring competition with something that's always in the peripheral. what the fuck. (at least, that's how people who don't know you would react). at this point you've probably gotten pretty familiar with the hat man. he's a reliable kind of guy. keeps to himself, sure, but you can trust him to be there. maybe a haunting isn't too bad if it's never left your side. you can only imagine what it will be like when he's not there any more.

[dreamcatcherrs]

streamers finding out youre pregnant?

the mcyts reaction to finding out their s/o is pregnant

+ this is a reaction to if you had been wanting to get pregnant, and that you and the specific mcyt had been wanting this for a while. so only fluff, no angst :) I can do an angst version, though?

dream:

after you told him the amazing news his whole face just lit up

he’d lift you up in the air

and spin you around

would set you down and then give you a big fat kiss on the lips

“I’m gonna be a dad?”

you don't think you'd ever seen him that happy before

he’d tell everyone almost immediately

and would want to go out and buy a bunch of baby stuff

just to be ready

would shower with you in the bath tub

with, like, a specific bath bomb you'd mentioned before

and washes your hair for you

always has an eye on you

and doesn't want you lifting heavy stuff

ever

won't let you do anything that contains more work than lifting a finger

very protective over you

georgenotfound:

would be really surprised at first

just imagine the grin on his face

I mean, he would be smiling till his cheeks started aching

pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head

“this is crazy. I just…I can't wait.”

would make sure you go for walks together

because he says then your baby will learn the area quicker

and you explain that the baby can't actually see out of your stomach

but he just brushes it off

will rage eat with you

just buys a bunch of fast foods and eats if with you

whilst simultaneously making sure you're eating all of the right things

he literally has a list of foods you should eat

speaking of lists, he also has a list of names

boy and girl names

he’s just so excited to be a dad

sapnap:

“are you serious?”

would punch the air in happiness

and then hug you tightly

but not too tightly cause he'd be afraid to hurt the baby

even though there wasn't really a baby yet

would take so much care of you

you need a snickers bar?

he’ll buy every single candy in the world

your back is hurting?

he’ll be your personal massager

or he’ll get you one

he’ll take days off just to be with you and the growing baby

LOVES touching your belly bump once you get one

and will definitely be talking to it

and calling the baby “he” because he is so convinced that it's going to be a boy

he’s cute or whatevuh😩

badboyhalo:

“you’re pregnant?!”

immediately gets on his knees and rests his forehead against your stomach

“that’s my little baby in there... I can’t believe it, pumpkin.”

gives you kisses all over your face

he will always remind you of how beautiful you are

and how you have a natural glow to you now that you’re pregnant

and he tells you how much he loves you all the time

and that he’s so excited to have a baby with you

makes sure you’re fed all the time

because now there has to be enough for 2 people

also makes sure not to eat the things you can’t eat during the pregnancy

would do everything for you and always looks out for you

technoblade:

when you told him the happiest smile broke onto his face

techno is a softie when it comes to you

so having a baby?

he is gonna be the sweetest dad is all I can say

hugs you and kisses you

he’s just in awe that he’s gonna be a dad soon

treats you like royalty

even if you're just calling for him because you're hungry

he will stop his stream and be with you for the rest of the day

or for multiple days if that's what you need

he’s still his usual techno self

(and by that I mean he still takes care of you quietly)

but you do feel his stares on you sometimes when you're doing literally nothing

like, even just when you're standing up from the couch once you have a bigger bump

he’ll be ready to be by your side if you need help

afraid you'd fall

very soft (but that’s just a fact we all know)

wilbur soot:

“really? baby, that's great!”

like dream, he’d spin you around

and then gently place a hand on your stomach

and just smile at you

he’d always be smiling

and makes sure you're never uncomfy

would buy you a special soft pillow

so you’d sleep better

he’d almost always have a hand on your bump

or look at it from a distance

wilbur as a dad is just🥺

would probably want a little girl

so he could braid her hair

(even if it looks horrible)

but nonetheless he’s just so happy to be a dad

skeppy:

I could just imagine him screaming “are you serious?”

he would then grab your face in his hands and then just stare at you

until his eyes gazed down at your stomach

he would be panicking

because he didn't know what to do

at the grocery store he would've made a list of things to get you

and would be running around trying to find them

has his eyes on you at all costs

“don't lift that!”

“are you trying to slip and fall?!”

even if you were literally just walking to the fridge

is a little scared about the whole birth thing

but doesn't want to scare you as well

so he just pushes it to the back of his head

because how bad can it really be?

for him, at least

would want to do a gender reveal as a youtube video

but only if you wanted to

very dramatic

but very loving

karl jacobs:

he would have his hand over his mouth when you told him

then starts laughing

“we’re gonna be parents?”

he’s honestly just so speechless

cradles your head in his neck and just smiles

almost cries

almost

he’s gonna be such a great dad

I mean have you see him with tucker?

he’s just so cute (yes, I’m a karl simp)

will rub your feet

or your lower back

or wherever you need to get those muscles loosened up

can get kinda scared sometimes

about the whole dad thing

but feels a lot better after talking to you about it

just like he makes you feel better, you make him feel better as well

buys cute little socks literally 8 months before the due date

bc he thinks they’re cute

fundy:

his surprised expression would slowly turn into a smile

would mumble out something in dutch

before hugging you so tightly

like, you actually had to say you couldn’t breathe for him to let you go

“I’m sorry baby, I’m just so happy!”

buys a bunch of baby stuff… the day after you told him

he just can't wait

always holds your hand during doctor’s appointments

and makes sure you're seated or laying down comfortably

especially once your bump gets big

talks to the baby through your stomach

so they can recognise his voice once you've given birth

always makes sure you feel beautiful

by complimenting you every day

multiple times

because if anything you look more beautiful than ever

will brush your hair

and brush his fingers through your hair

makes sure you feel loved all the time

quackity:

panic

as in pre-parental panic

but quickly recovers and tells you how fucking great it is that you're gonna have a baby together

and that he just can't believe he’s gonna have an actual baby with you

you bet he’ll be looking up tips for being a dad

he wants to do everything perfectly

and tries his very best to be there for you

does all of the chores

and still makes time for you

you'd get worried about him overworking himself

but when you tried to help him

he’d just make you sit down again

“you're not doing any work. too dangerous for little q.”

you'd accomplished making him stop doing all the work by luring him over with cuddles

he’d get you any food you wanted

fast food, healthy food

whatever you wanted, as long as you're always full, he’s happy

punz:

“really? you're serious?”

mans’ smile is brighter than the sun

pulls your shirt up to kiss your stomach all over

and then rests his hands on your hips and kisses you gently

“you're gonna be the best mom, you know that?”

like dream, he gets very protective of you

won't even let you get something that you can't reach by an inch

never drinks any liquor or coffee while you’re pregnant

because he knows you can't

highkey really loves your big bump

and tells you all the time

as well as how sexy you are

and will stay up late until you fall asleep

especially on those nights where it seems unbearable for you to fall asleep

the two of you would paint the room for the baby together after the gender was revealed

and then buy furniture that matches the room

he’d suggest exercises you could do for pain relief he’d seen on the internet

and even do them with you if that’s what you wanted

anything to make you happy

awesamdude:

HE’S SO HAPPY OMG

would cry if he wasn't so fucking excited

squeezes your hand

while putting a hand on your stomach

he can't wait to see the growth

he wants you to feel absolutely no stress

because he can't imagine the amount of emotions you must already feel with your baby growing inside of you

so he does everything for you to avoid that

and if you do feel stressed he suggests cuddles

then yoga for pregnant women

and then more cuddles

cooks delicious food for you

and buys cute little outfits for the baby

and tiny little shoes🥺

eret:

picks you up right then and kisses you

all over the place

“holy fuck, y/n. this is just… I’m so fucking happy right now.”

does literally EVERYTHING for you

laundry? he’s got it

dinner? he’s got it

waking up early because you can't sleep and then massages your shoulders because he's an absolute sweetheart? yep, he’s got it

fucking loves everything about you being pregnant

but he’s sure you don't like it just as much

I mean, you're the one who’s carrying a literal baby

so he believes it gets pretty goddamn hard for you sometimes

and therefore takes many breaks from streaming

just to hang out with you

you’d go to baby furniture stores together

until you found the perfect things

feeds you loads of chocolate

or ice cream

whatever you want, really

he discovers that he fucking loves pregnancy

hope you enjoyed this! never written something like this before, but it got me all soft…

________________________________

tag list✰

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[semischarmed]

Inside

“Let me ask again- the FUCK do you think you’re doing!?”

I tremble in fear and stare in silence at the massive man in front of me, rank with the sweat of his daily session.

In my hands lay his used gym clothes, inches from my nose. My eyes widen. He was supposed to be showering. My eyes are drawn to the bar of soap among the pile in front of me. Shit. 

Fear becomes arousal when he leans down to my ear, tantalizingly close, and whispers. “If you wanted me inside you so bad, all you had to fucking do was assssk”. He draws that last word out with his teeth, lacing it with venom and seduction.

“Cmon, fucking say it faggot. Say you want me inside you” he taunts.

Ashamed. Terrified. Spellbound. He had reduced me to my most minuscule self. I reply meekly to answer him. “...I want you inside me.”

I hear the corners of his face widen into an unsettling smirk. “Good Answer”.

In the blink of an eye, he vanishes from in front of me, rushing past my side to my back before I can even react. Oh shit this is really happening. I am prepared for the night of my life. “Strip.” I comply.  I hear him make some movements and then... then... silence.

“What the hell?” I chuckle nervously as I look behind me in confusion and see his naked form crouching in a low squat with his hands clasped in a praying motion. I admire his massive sweaty muscles. He catches my gaze, looking up and giving me wink. I smile back awkwardly. “So-“

I am cut off by searing, unimaginable pain from the motion of him piercing my ass with his hands as he lunges toward me. Pound after pound of his thick arms shove up my asshole with so much force, he pushes me forward several feet. I stay still, breathing heavy for a few moments- not daring to look back- not daring to move an inch out of our precarious position. My mind races. “Shit. Shit. Shit. What was that!? God, was he ok?”

I finally muster the courage to look behind in horror. I could only see his shoulders. Shit. How is this even possible? God. Shit. I couldn’t see his head…he was probably dead- and judging by how far he pushed into me, I probably would be soon too. I whimper, tears streaming down my face, as recount my life and start fumbling for my phone. I felt sick to my stomach. How could this go so wrong? Every fucking time something good happens. Well… at least if I’m going out, I’m- My stomach churns. Wait. That... wasn’t my stomach. 

Impossibly, I felt worms squiggle inside me- no they weren’t worms. I dial in on the sensation. They were fingers. His Fingers. He was moving his fingers. I feel them claw at my throat from the inside. My mouth opens uncontrollably as his digging hands choke me from the inside, scrambling for a grip. I reach up trying in vain to get him to stop. Shit Shit Shit. As my consciousness begins to dip, the hands have finally found a patch of my flesh around my shoulder. I pant in momentary relief.

With each patch of my flesh they touch, I feel our nerves intertwine, tangling into each other until I myself could feel his fingers as a supplement to my own. What the hell was going on? Then, I feel him wrap his arms around more of my flesh and bundle more of our nerves together. Whatever this was, whatever he was doing, it was intentional.

He uses his arms as leverage and pulls the rest of his sweat-slick body inside, almost forcing my own to the ground. I fill up. Near-bursting. Impossibly full. As I stagger to stand, I watch from the mirror as he shimmies more and more of himself into me. I retch unprompted, dry heaving at what was occurring before my very eyes, but the motion only seemed to suck in his fleshy mass further inside me. Still, I couldn’t help but begin to get hard. Him being in here was hot as hell.  

I take shorter and shorter breaths, which again only slides more and more of him inside me, until the very last parts of him- his grimy toes- get slurped up in my asshole. My body wants to collapse from the strain of having to stretch to accommodate both our forms. Instead, I watch as his body is imprinted in my skin -near my stomach and chest, pulling me impossibly tight while he cemented himself in a fetal position. My legs begin to buckle from the pressure. 

Before I fall, he stretches out his legs out inside my skin, stacking his over my own. They are sticky when they slide over my bones and musculature, likely from the sweat he was aiming to wash off with his shower. As he fills into my skin, my toes are lifted off the ground as my body rises to accommodate his far-larger form. My very own body betrays its owner, as it is drawn to his legs over my own and he hastens the process by corralling my skin to realign to match his legs instead. I can only watch and feel in silence as I feel the skin covering my toes detach from myself and overlap over his. I feel pricks as our nerves entangle together. His legs then digests mine, inflating themselves from my added mass. My skin constricts in turn around his legs, crushing them from all sides. From the depths of my body, a moan in his voice escapes my still-hanging mouth. Skin constricts even tighter and I wince in anticipation from the pain. Instead, I am met with pleasure as nerves fire and I reconnect to my new legs. Oh my god. This was everything… I’ve never been this tall nor my legs this muscular. 

I wait in anticipation of his next move. His arms unfurl from their place, and I watch them slip over my shoulders. I look hungrily at my soon-to-be biceps. Yummy. This time, I put no resistance, as readily I allow his pythons to coil around my two stick-appendages. I give these arms of mine to him willingly, which he happily assimilates. Then, a massive tension in the skin of my arms, as they are forced to spread out, rocketed outwards from the mass of his flesh filling into them. By all accounts, it was uncomfortable, but knowing what was soon to come had overwritten any fear, any doubt, any discomfort I could ever have with lust. My arms were never buff, so watching him rearrange his arms to become mine makes me go lightheaded with an abundance of elation and desire. As his nerves join with mine, and I finally feel the strength inherent in my new arms, my head leans back from the sheer sensation of our parts being one. He flexes our new arm together, before caressing it over the imprint of his body still in my chest and stomach. This was a dream come true. Still… more to come.

I watch expectantly as the large mass of his head begins to travel up my neck. I prepare to accept my new self. I could want nothing more than to live as this god of a man as his new flesh. Before his head can reach me, however, I watch as the remainder of his body fill into mine, including that perky ass. My arms are helpless to my whim as he commands them himself. He smears my skin around the outline of his body, slotting his abs over my flat stomach, tracing their indents as they fill over, and giving me the exact very same six-pack I had always fantasized over. He pinches my nipples- holy shit- stretching them forward, before releasing. They rebound back, slotting into their rightfully place- right over his. They’re rock hard. 

When the bare outline of his forehead head begins to peek over my neck, I feel him flex our entire body. He tenses our entire form, forcing my skin to compress even tighter around him. He continues until I feel a pop in myself. I look down and see the results. I see his wavy hairs pierce and poke through my skin. The scene was bizarre. He was literally wearing me. Though it was my normally supple skin, it was dotted by the roughness of his hairs. When our pores align, I finally release some excess heat. The scent was immaculate. I sweated his sweat, emanated his scent. By all accounts, I am his body. There would be no turning back. In the continuing process, I feel his organs and blood rush into mine. He was I and I was him. We now shared the same insides. With his blood rushing through us, I felt invigorated. Fuck. God. This was what he felt like every fucking day. I happily invite his wellspring of strength and energy as my own. This is what I am going to be feeling like every day from now on. We could do a million pushups right now without breaking a sweat. With him driving me, we would be unstoppable. My trance is broken when I noticed my dick in disappointment, unchanged from the whole process.  

I licked my lips as his head finally slotted over mine. I screamed from the pain of my face being stretched out to accommodate both of ours. He had far better control of us and instead contorted my outer face into a crooked smile. He began panting and moaning as the force of my skin stuck our heads closer and closer together. At long last, I feel sweet release when some arbitrary barrier inside me breaks and a spark lights in me as his head accelerates and smashes into mine. I welcome him inside with open ‘arms’. ‘I want you inside me.’ 

He complies, greedily overlaying his very being into me. In all my memory, in all my thoughts, feelings, perversions, there he was and there he would be. I yield them all willingly, allowing him to become me, to transcend me. Our shared eyes close from the wealth of new identity he has captured as he and I become one. We would have each other in a way no one else ever could. It was beyond intimacy. With his tongue inside mine, he sticks it out of my face with a sneer. It’s a face I never made, but with our new selves, this just felt right. He guides them over my teeth. My jaw redefines itself on his terms, nose corrects itself to his shape. Altogether, he was wearing me as his own, comfortably taking and rearranging me to be a better vessel for him. Fuck did it feel good to be his outer shell. I think we both looked better like this- greater than the sum of our parts.

Dirty, lewd thoughts mix with my own as his personality bleeds into mine. I reflexively try to shake it off, but he is relentless. In his barrage of self into me, tears well in my face. Still… he continues to inject more and more of his self into me. And then... I finally let go. This felt good. Being his. Who’s to say if it was my thoughts on their own or our combined derangement, but the thought of him forever using me, forever being me? Sheer Fucking Ecstasy. This felt great. He subjugates my sense of self to forever be a part of him but I offer it willingly. Becoming me probably shaved a few years off him. Like my skin, He stretches my personality around his, further and further until we congeal into one. Goddamn. Fuck Yeah. This is fucking great. We lick our lips.

I feel a rush of confidence. The new me is brimming with it. We are alpha. My mouth and body move in a way that was alien to myself. He stands up straighter and cracks our neck, getting comfortable in our new form. We take our first real breath together as a new person, taking in more air than my old lungs had been used to. Amazing.

Then, his hormones rush through our body. Fuck. I feel an outpouring of raw, sexual energy. Our body steams up in the heat- look at me, who wouldn’t- and, before I could react further, he starts pumping my dick in manic glee. Fuck. As it stiffens, I hit my old body’s limit. Average. Our grin widens by his command. “Time for an upgrade, baby” I say with a jock-like inflection in my voice. It sounds immediately comfortable, self-assured, and it rolls off my new tongue naturally. It feels wholly unnatural. He speaks in a lower register than I normally do. Still I yield to him, trusting in my new owner and allowing his parts to coalesce into my vocal chords. A disturbing itch runs through my throat as our voices meld together but I know it’s for the best. This newer, hotter me needs a newer, hotter voice. We take a deep breath before roaring “FUUUUUCK YEAH! Muuuuch better!” in a voice that resembled a harmonius mix both of ours. 

The itch courses through the rest of my body as I allow him to fully wear the rest of me. He brings my head to face the new me in the mirror for a closeup giving another wink. Beautiful. I watch as my eyes water uncontrollably. His amber eyes then eclipse mine, and we blink away the tears. In my head, I feel his thick, wavy hair push out beside my own, as my old hair merge into his. In its place, we now wear a crown of his hair signifying my new place as royalty. He drags my now-vascular hand across our chin, pulling slightly while a bit of scruff grows where bare skin used to be. He quickly nods our new head in approval as more of my features contort to accommodate their new owner. Yeah. We were fucking hot.

Then, I feel his thick dick slot into mine, filling it out. Jesus fucking christ it was so big. It stretches me further and further, until I am hit by another wave of paralysis, until my skin snaps back into his, constricting weapon and sheath together. The sheer pressure merges them into one. Goddamn we were huge. Our shared tongue hangs from our open mouth, as we release a massive wave of cum. It rockets everywhere, covering me in my new, alpha seed. We sample a taste of our shared genetics. Fucking delicious. 

God we were so hot together. The feeling is surreal. There was nothing like it in the world. I was forever his. I am wrack in permanent pleasure from being us. He walks over to his old pile of clothes, putting them on. As they brush over my new body, I am flush with a sense of completeness. A perfect match.

---End---

Ok, Ok, so not as ‘light’ as I would have expected. I was gonna make something cute for Valentines day, but got sidetracked by... I mean... look at him.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Could you please write Jason and Y/N (Father of Mine Universe) with prompts 48, 31, and maybe 30? could go either way.

Even if you choose not to write this, thanks for creating Father of Mine, it's one of my favorite fics!

Father of Mine

48. Using your body to shield them from attack.

31. Hurriedly checking for their pulse.

30. Performing CPR when they stop breathing.

Jason and Y/N were walking along the water after getting dinner.

Most of the harbors in Gotham were run by one crime lord or another. Which meant that there were very few areas on the water for civilians to enjoy – or feel safe. 

But Jason knew of a strip that was under the radar.

There were a few other couples with the same idea. And random groups of kids and teenagers hanging out and messing around.

Jason was relaxed.

That was his first mistake.

Jason had immediately clocked a random middle-aged man who was covered in sweat and was visibly trembling.

Being far too familiar with the sight, Jason assumed the guy was another unfortunate addict. 

But then he noticed the man was carrying a backpack.

Jason had all of 5 seconds to realize what was about to happen.

He shielded Y/N with his body while screaming as loud as he could, “Get down!”

Jason knew he couldn’t save everyone, and Y/N would always be his number one priority.

The next second, the bomb exploded.

The impact knocked Jason unconscious.

For how long, he had no idea.

He was disoriented from the explosion, his ears ringing from tinnitus and his vision struggling to focus from the vertigo. Yet, somehow he could still hear the beating of his heart in his eardrums. 

People were screaming in pain around him and others were crying as they looked down at their loved ones. Half the harbor was on fire from the explosion. Cement and debris was everywhere. Jason’s hair was grey from it.

He blinked and then panicked.

“Y/N!” Jason screamed when he realized she wasn’t anywhere near him.

He jumped to his feet and whipped around in every direction looking for her.

“Y/N!” He screamed even louder, his throat burning from the effort.

Then he realized when the explosion when off they had been standing next to the railing that blocked off the water. The railing that had now been blasted away and into the harbor.

Jason sprinted to the edge and looked down at the black water below.

Without hesitation, he dove into the depths.

It was almost impossible to see anything.

But just seconds later, he found Y/N unconscious and completely submerged.

Jason had never swam faster in his life.

But when they breached, Y/N didn’t gasp for air.

She was completely unconscious.

Jason’s eyes darted around, trying to find their escape.

By some miracle, there was a rusty ladder that led back up to the pier from the water.

Jason put Y/N’s body over his shoulder as he climbed the ladder, silently praying that the metal didn’t break under their combined weight.

When they reached the top, he gently laid her down and his fingers shot to the pulse point at her neck.

Nothing.

“No, no, no,” Jason mumbled. “Y/N. Come on, baby. You’re not doing this to me.”

He found his Red Hood comm in the pocket of his jacket, and put it to his hear.

“Contact Bruce,” he commanded the AI as he started performing CPR on Y/N.

“What is it?” Bruce answered with slight panic. 

Jason had never called him like this before. And therefore Bruce knew immediately something terrible happened.

“Get the fucking jet here right now,” Jason growled.

“What’s happened?” Bruce asked, but it was obvious he was moving around already to leave.

“There was an explosion. She doesn’t have a pulse and she’s not breathing,” it was all Jason was capable of giving him. “Just get the fucking jet here now!”

He didn’t have time to explain more and hung up. And he didn’t have to say Y/N’s name for Bruce know who he was talking about. There was only one woman in Jason’s life that would have him sounding so panicked and desperate.

Jason continued his CPR, fully focused now that he knew Bruce was on the way.

Still nothing.

He did another round of compressions.

Jason’s eyes started watery as his mind began to believe that Y/N wasn’t going to make it.

He wouldn’t survive.

Y/N had changed his life. She made him better, made him good, made him want to worker harder – do literally anything to become the man she deserved and to continue to be deserving of her love.

“Please,” Jason whimpered. “Please don’t leave me.”

But then Y/N’s eyes shot open and she immediately turned over and started coughing up water.

“Holy fuck,” Jason gasped in relief at the sight.

Y/N continued coughing until her throat was scratched and dry.

Jason rubbed her back, trying to comfort her without preventing her body from getting all the water out of her lungs.

After she finished, she was shaking from being freezing cold and from the shock.

Despite him also being wet, Jason put his coat over her shoulders.

“Don’t ever fucking do that to me again,” Jason begged Y/N as he pulled her into his arms. 

He kissed the crown of her head and hoped his body heat would be enough to warm her up.

“What happened?” Her voice had never been raspier and it was now quivering.

“A bomb went off. I thought I shielded you from it, but the impact must’ve thrown you into the harbor.”

“I’m OK,” she tried to tell him. But her shaking voice was unconvincing. 

Jason wasn’t letting go of her anytime soon.

It was only 5 minutes later that the batplane touched down on what remained of the pier.

Jason looked up to see Dick, Tim, and Damian jump out and immediately start helping the injured.

But Bruce, dressed in his Batman uniform, was walking straight to Jason and Y/N.

“She needs to go to a hospital,” Jason called out when Bruce was a few yards away. “Her heart stopped beating and her lungs took in too much water.”

Jason knew Bruce wouldn’t argue with taking Y/N there immediately.

Bruce was clearly relieved at seeing his daughter alive and conscious. But that didn’t mean she was in the clear. Nearly drowning still had its risks. If her heart stopped beating, she was in danger of brain damage or pneumonia.

“I’ll take her. You help the others,” Bruce ordered as he stepped forward to take Y/N from Jason’s arms.

“Like fucking hell I am,” Jason growled as he stood up with Y/N in his arms.

Bruce was about to fight him on it, but then he met Y/N’s eyes. Her skin was pale and almost had a blue tint to it. She looked so small and vulnerable in Jason’s arms. Not like the strong and grown woman that had first strutted into Wayne Manor.

“I’m not leaving her,” Jason added for good measure.

Bruce finally sighed and nodded. “Take the jet. You know where to go. I’ll meet you there.”

Before Jason could carry her away, Y/N whispered, “What about the others?” 

Her eyes tried to look around her boyfriend’s broad shoulders to see the other victims.

“B is going to help them,” Jason gently told her. He even angled his body to block her line of sight. She didn’t need to see any of it. 

“We already have ambulance and firemen on the way,” Bruce added, hoping it would convince her further not to worry herself. 

There was nothing she could do for them anyway. 

Then Bruce locked eyes with Jason. “Go. Get out of here. Take care of her.”

“Always,” Jason muttered quickly before hurrying Y/N to the jet.

————————

Y/N woke up to two low voices clearly having a serious discussion, but trying to keep their voices down.

When she opened her eyes, Y/N realized she was in a hospital room. But it wasn’t just any room. It seemed like a five-star hotel with how fancy it was. It didn’t have that sterile smell or those harsh fluorescent lights that caused headaches.

“It was a turf war,” Bruce told Jason quietly. “Carmine has jurisdiction over the harbor the two of you were at tonight. But Farrelli wanted it for himself. He forced his latest victim to bring the bomb.”

Jason crossed his arms. “So, the guy was dead either way, Farrelli just thought he’d put him to some use before he murdered him.”

Bruce nodded. “And kill five more people with him.”

“Five people died?” Y/N burst out without realizing it.

Both men’s heads whipped in her direction.

“You’re awake,” Jason sighed and immediately rushed to her side.

“What hospital am I at?” She mumbled, looking around again.

“Gotham General,” he told her as he sat on the edge of the bed to face her.

Jason gently grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. But he had no intention of letting it go, keeping a tight hold and rubbing his thumb back and forth across her skin.

Bruce was slower to join them as he walked with his hands in his pant pockets.

“This isn’t Gotham General,” she commented with a suspicious gaze. 

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Well, as soon as Bruce arrived, they realized that you’re Gotham royalty by blood, and brought you to a special suite.”

Then Y/N’s eyes slowly moved to her father. “Five people died from the explosion?”

She needed to know. But she also knew that both men would try to protect her from possible survivor’s guilt.

So Bruce just nodded.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked, trying to distract her by changing the subject.

“Tired. And my throat is sore,” she admitted with a light shrug.

Then she looked up at Jason and really took him in.

There were dark shadows under his eyes – the eyes that were still a bit bloodshot. 

Had he been crying? She hadn’t registered that. 

His hair was a mess, probably from drying haphazardly after jumping into the water to save her.

“Are you OK?” She asked.

It would be right on brand for Jason to risk his life saving her, but ignore any and all injures that he’d received from the same life-threatening travesty.

“I’m fine. Always am,” Jason reassured her too quickly.

Bruce chimed in,“We were all just worried about you, Y/N.”

Both men knew her next question was going to be about the well-being of Damian, Dick, and Tim.

“Can we go home?” She asked softly.

Y/N had always hated hospitals. And once her mother got cancer, Y/N absolutely despised them. Now all she had attached to them was bad memories that constantly threatened to trigger her. 

“They just need to get a scan back, make sure everything’s good,” Jason tried to comfort her. “Once that’s good, I’ll take you home.”

He knew her distaste for hospitals and was prepared for her to want to escape at the earliest opportunity.

“Scan?” Y/N questioned.

“You didn’t have a pulse,” Bruce explained. “You have a concussion. We need to make sure there was no brain damage or any lasting side effects.”

“Right,” she mumbled, trying not to sound worried.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Jason reassured her as he cupped her cheek.

“Perhaps you should stay at the manor for a few days,” Bruce offered. “You can relax and not be bothered.”

“She can not be bothered in our apartment,” Jason interrupted, giving him side eye.

“Jason…” Y/N warned gently.

She knew the signs of Jason getting worked up. The fire in his eyes was always something Y/N could read – more than anyone else.

Bruce wasn’t offended by Jason’s little snipe. He was used to his temper. But his gaze did turn rather serious. 

“Could I talk to you outside for a moment?”

Jason was about to refuse, not wanting to leave Y/N’s side. But he knew that would just most likely lead to an argument. And Y/N didn’t need to hear or see that. She was already exhausted and recovering. The last thing she needed was to witness was her father and boyfriend going at it – especially over her.

So Jason just nodded and stormed out of the room.

The quicker they got this over with, the better.

As soon as the door closed, Jason was sizing Bruce up.

“What exactly is your next move?” Bruce questioned.

“I’m going after Farrelli,” Jason rumbled, as if it was obvious.

No one put Y/N in danger and got away with it. Jason had already come up with a plan on how to seek his revenge. 

It was going to be gruesome and dirty, but nothing less than what the bastards deserved.

Bruce clearly had expected this answer. “So do you plan on doing that while you take care of Y/N?” And he tilted his head as he challenged Jason.

“Are you really trying to stop me?”

Bruce took a step forward. “No, Jason. I’m trying to protect you from yourself. You get blinded by vengeance. And I let you get away with it. But now your actions don’t just effect you…they effect her, too.”

Jason blinked.

“Y/N needs you right now. Even though she will act like she doesn’t.” Bruce inhaled. “If you’re going to put revenge over her wellbeing, she should stay at the manor.”

This was a somewhat of a warning – an opportunity for Jason to do the right thing before he could make his mistake.

Jason’s head hung low now. “I can’t let him get away with it. She almost died, Bruce.”

“And he won’t. But we’ll take care of it,” Bruce promised.

Jason thought it about a moment, before he finally nodded slowly. “I think the manor would be good. But I won’t leave her.”

“I never said you had to,” Bruce corrected.

Jason nodded again and made his way to the door of Y/N’s room again.

“Jason?” Bruce called.

He turned around with an eyebrow quirked.

“Thank you for saving her life.”

Jason tried not to roll his eyes, but took a few steps back to Bruce. 

“You have your opinions about me and her, I’m sure. But I want to make this is clear: I’m always going to protect her. Always. What happened tonight is never going to happen again. I’d die protecting her.”

Jason didn’t wait for Bruce’s response before turning back around. 

But just as he opened Y/N’s door her heard, “I know, Jason. I’ve always known.”

—————

Jason was able to convince Y/N to stay at the manor.

And she surprisingly agreed – as long as he came with her.

Alfred spoiled her rotten with all of her favorite meals. He was constantly bring her tea or coffee. 

Damian ordered all of his pets to keep her company and cuddle with her. To the point where Jason was annoyed because there was literally no space for him.

Tim downloaded a hundred movies for her to watch. 

Dick sent flowers and chocolates. 

Even Clark stopped by when he heard what happened. 

Unbeknownst to Y/N, all the boys and Bruce were working on taking down Farrelli. 

If Jason was the man from just a few years ago, Farrelli’s corpse would already be rotting somewhere in Gotham. But he had changed. Now they had to do things the right way.

Jason stuck to Y/N’s side like glue. He hovered, watched her like a hawk, wouldn’t let her do anything on her own.

After of a few days of this, Y/N finally had enough.

“You gonna talk to me anytime soon?” She asked him in bed on their third night.

Jason broke their eye contact.

“Jason. Please?” She whispered.

Silence filled the room.

“I can’t do it.”

Her brow furrowed. “Can’t do what?”

For a split moment, she thought he was about to try and break up with her. 

“I can’t watch you get hurt again. I just…I can’t.”

She cupped his cheeks. “But I’m right here. And I’m fine, Jason.”

“When I…” He hesitated. “When I died. I knew it was coming. I saw the bomb counting down and I knew there was no escape. I accepted my fate. I knew I was going to die. And I was scared.” 

Jason shook his head and took in a deep breath, “But Y/N…that was nothing compared to what I felt when I was convinced I’d lost you. I’m never been so fucking terrified in my life.”

Y/N smothered him with her embrace. “I’m so sorry for scaring you. But I’m OK. Please just focus on that. Please.”

“I can’t lose you, Y/N.” Jason whispered into her hair. “This place was hell before I met you. And I have no fuckin’ interest in fighting it without you.”

Y/N wished she could promise Jason that she would never leave him. But she was the child of a mother who passed far too soon. She knew life and death could be so cruel, ripping the loved ones away with or without warning.

No, she didn’t die this time. But who was to say something like this wouldn’t happen again? And maybe next time, she wouldn’t be so lucky. They lived in Gotham after all.

“Fate may have other ideas…But I never plan on leaving your side, Jason. I love you too much to do anything else.”

Jason actually laughed. “I can fight fate.”

He’d done it once before.

----------------

I have a few more of these prompts for bonus material. But let me know what you think 🤗

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 320: Deku vs. Class 1-A

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Kacchan was all “fuck Deku and fuck his stupid goodbye letters, I need to speak to somebody in charge.” Endeavor was all “hello, I am Somebody In Charge.” Kacchan was all “listen up asshole, you need to let us go out and collect our wayward nerd because you stupidly left him alone with All Might and that’s a fast track to disaster right there.” Endeavor was all, “[self-incriminating silence].” Rat Principal was all, “okay sure, have fun kids.” Back in the present, class 1-A was all “hi Deku” and Deku was all “I’M FINE!!!!!” and Kacchan was all “THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT YOU’D SAY YOU DUMB FUCKING NERD” and so the kids all got ready to fight, because OF COURSE they’re gonna fight. Sorry guys, but yeah it’s happening.

Today on BnHA: Kacchan is all “what’s up Deku you look like a possessed Rorschach test, so anyway how are the new quirks coming along.” Deku is all “they’re coming along like THIS” and uses Smokescreen to try and get away. Kacchan is all “PHASE ONE COMMENCE”, and Kouda, Sero, Jirou, and Ojiro leap into the fray to shower Deku with heaps of love and violence, because this is a shounen manga and kicking someone’s ass while simultaneously proclaiming your undying admiration for them is just how it’s done in these parts. The KoudaSeroOJirou squad then passes the baton to Satou, Momo, Tokoyami, Kaminari, and Shouji, who are all “fuck this mask” and do a bunch of stuff to tear Deku’s mask off because they’re the real heroes. Shouto is all “LOOK AT THE LITTLE CRYBABY, THAT’S RIGHT, GO AHEAD AND FUCKING CRY and by the way let us share your burden please,” and once again I swear this is all very deeply moving and touching within the actual context. The chapter ends with Tsuyu being all “look at me. I’m the cliffhanger now,” and damn.

lol what

I don’t think anyone was expecting that. I mean, not that I’ve got anything against Tsuyu or anything. anyways it’s a very nice cover and I love the colors and I hope this means Tsuyu’s gonna do something badass

also, “Deku vs Class A” -- pretty much the expected title, but it’s still got me hyped nonetheless fuck yeah let’s go

IIDA ANGST

Iida Tenya really said “fuck the uniform code, we’re leaving the helmet at home today.” sorry kids, prim and proper C-3PO Comic Relief Iida has left the building. can I interest you in some Serious Iida

meanwhile Kacchan is all “sup Deku, I heard you got a few more quirks, and might I just add that you look like the Snyder Cut of Detective Pikachu”

“you look like a tarred and feathered squid” okay easy there Kacchan. I mean it’s all true of course, but still

“thank you all for coming” OH EXCUSE ME SON, WERE YOU PLANNING ON GOING SOMEWHERE. LET’S JUST SEE HOW THAT PLAYS OUT

yep and there’s Smokescreen, right on cue

okay Horikoshi, I leave it in your hands. hopefully you can come up with some more interesting combos than my dumbass predictions lol

LOL THIS ISN’T A COMBO AT ALL

“explosions solve everything” -- Horikoshi Kouhei, 2021. something something shockwave, something something handwave ta-da no more smoke. lol okay then

oh, ouch

he would know, wouldn’t he. nice application of one of your many hard-earned life lessons, Kacchan

by the way you guys, just as an experiment, I’m going to try to anticipate some of the discourse this week in the hopes of preemptively addressing it and thus saving myself some time later on lol. so here’s our first test run!

ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “oh my god what a fucking hypocrite can you believe this fucking guy”

PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: it’s precisely because Kacchan has been in this exact situation himself that he’s able to recognize his past self in Deku now and call him out on it. just because it took him sixteen years to get it through his head that he can’t accomplish every single thing completely by himself doesn’t mean Deku has to go down that same path. so yeah, maybe it is a bit hypocritical, but if you insist that the only people qualified to call out stupid shit are people who have never done a single stupid thing in their own lives, then what you’re basically saying is that absolutely no one on earth is qualified lol. so yeah, I’d have to disagree

and one last unrelated note, I’m willing to bet the whole “you didn’t even say a word before you ran off” thing is possibly the first thing Kacchan’s said in this whole encounter that actually does stem from genuine hurt rather than his tough-love-harsh-truths strategy. I’M TAKING NOTES HERE HORIKOSHI. at this rate it’ll take twice as many chapters as DvK2 for them to hash out all the stuff between them, geez

anyway so I gotta say, so far Deku vs. Class A is looking an awful lot like a DvK3 wearing a hat, trenchcoat, and sunglasses lol

OH SHIT I TAKE IT BACK??

FUCK YEAH, YOU GO KOUDA. and I guess he ditched his mask as well! excellent

so far the strategy here seems to be “Kacchan says all the mean tough love shit while the rest of 1-A balances it out with warmth and kindness”, which actually works pretty well imo. Deku is one of those people that doesn’t usually need a Kacchan Translator anyway, but just in case, this is very efficient

mm but of course Deku is slingshotting himself away with Blackwhip. all right then, who’s up next!

FUCK YEAH

okay but seriously you guys, what is going on with Sero’s face in these last couple of chapters though, it’s really starting to unnerve me. is he trying to emulate Kacchan’s whole asymmetrical facial expressions thing?

in fact let me just quickly hit pause here because,

ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “SERO IS TOGA??!”

PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: no

oh snap looks like Jirou’s getting in on the action too!

poor Jirou probably spent days racking her brain trying to think of something she could bond with Deku over. is Horikoshi doing these in reverse order of the kids who have had the most interaction with him? that would explain why poor Kouda didn’t get a flashback lol

omg. well that answers that

so by my count, Satou and Hagakure are the only ones remaining in this first tier of kids who Still Appreciate Midoriya even though they’ve barely ever spoken two words to him in their lives lol. so they’ll probably be next, and then we’ll get to the next tier of kids who are pretty good friends with him but not quite besties. and then we’ll move on to the IidaRokiRaka trio, and then lastly, to the boy who is in a tier all his own

BUT FIRST, A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR

and by “sponsor” I mean the Dekuangst. just in case that wasn’t clear. indeed, many thanks to the Dekuangst for making this all possible

(ETA: okay so this whole “take me away” line seemed pretty weird to me, and sure enough it’s yet another one of those cases where only the verb is specified, and the object is left to the reader’s interpretation. so even though the translation says “take me away”, I’m pretty sure that what Deku’s actually saying is “take you away” -- as in, his loved ones will be taken away by AFO.

and that is literally the way he phrases it, though -- the verb used is “奪う” (ubau), meaning “to snatch away; to dispossess; to steal.” which, god, that hurts my whole goddamn heart though, because for him to say it like that?? not “AFO will kill you”, but “AFO will take you away from me.” he can’t have nice things anymore because of AFO. he can’t be around the people he loves because AFO will hurt them. he can’t have happiness because AFO will take it away from him. anyway so where the fuck is AFO right now, motherfucker I just want to talk.)

by the way can Ojiro just extend his tail to whatever fucking length he wants or what because it’s like twelve feet long in this panel lol

WOOO FUCK YEAH TOKOYAMI

YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!! BUT WHERE’S YOUR FLASHBACK? YOU’VE HAD A BUNCH OF INTERACTIONS WITH HIM, THAT’S NOT FAIR

okay so now Satou’s stepping in which is back to my anticipated order, so maybe Toko will finish his little moment afterward

dskfjfkk

“REMEMBER THAT TIME DEKU BORROWED SATOU’S FOOD COLORING” Horikoshi says, sweating. “AND REMEMBER THAT TIME HE, UM, SMILED IN HAGAKURE’S GENERAL DIRECTION”

actually I am curious about what Hagakure’s part will be because, you know, the whole traitor thing lol

(ETA: funny how we just skipped right over it huh. can we get a traitor reveal countdown started here? definitely getting close to that time.)

whoa lol wtf

MOMO??? THIS HAS MOMO WRITTEN ALL OVER IT DAMMIT

-- SWEET MOTHER OF FUCK

“SORRY MIDORIYA-SAN, I LEFT MY FUCKING CHILL AT HOME IN THE LOCKER NEXT TO IIDA’S HELMET” holy shit lmao

and here I thought she’d get a flashback to her time on the Baku Rescue Squad or something. but nope, no flashbacks from Momo, only terrifying sci-fi torture devices

poor Dark Shadow is such a trooper omg

“why am I the only one who has to make prolonged contact with his smelly disgusting self” taking one for the team there DS

FUCK YEAH KAMINARI NO JUTSU

THE PRICKLY BASTARD WHISPERER STRIKES AGAIN!! don’t suppose you brought any clean clothes you could sneakily force him into huh Kami

okay here we go, so now Shouji and Tokoyami are joining forces

um excuse me this is fucking awesome

wonder how he’ll break free? don’t think he’ll reveal Fa Jin until the end of the chapter, so maybe Air Force or something? idk

TOKO GETS AN EXTENDED MOMENT BECAUSE HE IS A TIER TWO PATREON REWARD LEVEL FRIEND YAY

WHY IS MOMO MAKING THIS FACE LOL YOUR THING WAS WAY WORSE

and Shouji just casually hitting him with what is easily the best comment from anyone yet. too bad Deku’s just gonna ignore it. you deserve better Shouji

KAMINARI OMFG

it only just occurred to me that Kami is currently trapped inside Dark Shadow right along with him lmao omg. realest one in the entirety of BnHA, right here. we will never forget your sacrifice

aaaaaaand Deku’s yeeting himself

do you really hate the thought of taking a bath that much my dude

oh shit the mask!!

-- oh shit the feels

o(TヘTo)

fuck. and I mean, we knew he was crying, that was a done deal. but still, to see him in this much pain is just...

and the acknowledgement that he knows they’re worried about him, but that it doesn’t change his mind one bit. this, right here, is why they have to be a bit harsh with him, you guys. because they’re up against the full, unbridled stubbornness of Midoriya fucking Izuku, and if they don’t match that stubbornness with an equal stubbornness of their own, they basically don’t stand a chance

(ETA: quick note that there is apparently another mistranslation here -- rather than saying that his friends are oblivious to the danger, what Deku is actually saying is that none of his friends have activated his Danger Sense once throughout this entire fight. which I had been wondering about, and it turns out Horikoshi actually confirmed it. so basically none of the kids bears any ill intent toward him, and there’s literal proof right there.

incidentally, as @class1akids​ pointed out, this also casts an interesting light on this chapter in terms of who hasn’t fought Deku yet. not to play the Hagakure Traitor Music for the billionth time you guys, but I’M JUST SAYING lol.)

anyway, but the good news is that they all seem to understand that. and the even better news is that we have reached the tier 3 friends!!

“OR ELSE” lol, great to see Shouto wielding his friendship just as aggressively as Deku once did towards him. I do love a good role reversal

p.s., ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “why is Shouto being so cruel to Deku can’t he see how hard this is on him”

PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: this is a callback to the classic “even heroes cry when they have to” Shouto line from chapter 137. Shouto is clearly following Kacchan’s lead here and going for the more ruthless approach, knowing that the gentle approach isn’t getting through to him (if anything it’s only making him more stubborn as we saw on the previous page). basically it’s his way of pointing out that even heroes are still only human, and so is Deku last time he checked

ah okay, and there Tsuyu is at last

okay real talk, I get why Tsuyu is included in the tier 3 friends, because she was one of the first people to team up with Deku going all the way back to USJ. but that said, this probably would have had more impact if their most recent interaction hadn’t been like 150 chapters ago

but anyway though it’s still a good speech. maybe not quite a cliffhanger-level speech, but a good speech nonetheless. in a way though, I’m glad to see that Horikoshi seemingly didn’t give a fuck whether he ended this on an actual cliffhanger or not for once

and that “headed toward the climax” part has me excited too, ngl. because if we really are getting to the so-called climax this soon, that makes me even more certain that there is indeed a DvK3 in the forecast. so I presume that next week (or I guess two weeks from now) will be the tier 3s along with the remaining tier 2s like Kirishima and Aoyama

and then after that, well... [orange and green banners being hoisted] [sound of screeching airhorns and vuvuzelas in the distance] [sound of All Might approaching in his car which I didn’t notice until I looked back at this page a second time whoops] THE PROPHECY WILL NOT BE DENIED

[redorich]

For the canyon au, what would happen if one of the hermits got hurt during a scout? Like, if etho is out scouting, something happens, and he’s unable to message the hermits or get help. Would he be willing to be seen? Would any smpers besides Puffy help him?

Zedaph didn't mean to leave the canyon, honest! He was just looking for a sheep of his own for a completely ethical experiment involving pistons and a perfectly reasonable quantity of peanut butter, thank you very much. He wasn’t about to steal a sheep from someone else’s farm, and for some reason sheep don’t tend to spawn at bedrock level. So really, he had no choice!

Zedaph is rethinking a lot of his decisions. He’s also wondering if he left the jump-powered stove on. Then he remembers that it’s jump-powered, and as he is not currently jumping on it, it is most likely unpowered. Unfortunately, it seems as though Zedaph is going to be eating a lot of cold food for a while if he makes it out of this alive, because he’s not going to be jumping on anything with a broken leg.

Despite his punishment for trying to take a cross-section of something that he now knows is probably sentient (oops), he can’t help but want to go back, to learn more. What is the rate of growth of those red vines? Are they all from the same plant? Are they actually sentient, or is the crimson kudzu in possession of an automatic response to attempted harm? Did the vine know it was hitting him off a ledge which would break his leg, or did it just know “whack human away from vine”? Would the vines taste good in soup? Are they flammable? Could Zedaph theoretically knit a fashionable sweater out of them, and if so would the sweater be capable of independent movement?

He is torn from his musings of a wriggly evil sweater by another thrum of pain. He hisses. There’s... more blood than is advisable. Outside of his leg, that is. Inside his leg is likely less than the advisable amount of blood, and come to think of it, his head’s probably a bit empty as well, seeing as how he’s having so much trouble thinking straight-- well, straight for him. His jumps in logic are incomprehensible to most on a good day, but right now even he can’t follow his own thought process. What was he thinking about again?

Ah yes. The overwhelming pain from being yeeted off a ledge. Come to think of it, the ledge he fell off-- the one he’s sitting leaned against-- is shaped awfully unusually. It must be manmade. Whoever made this is not a good terraformer. Zedaph should bake Scar some cookies. Is Scar allergic to peanuts? Ow. Ow. Ow. Zedaph will need to borrow Impulse’s oven-- or he could set up his own oven with an armor stand that jumps for him?

“Hey there, who are you?” says a female voice. Zedaph looks up. He doesn’t have to look very far up.

Standing in front of him is a woman with a cool pirate-looking coat (red, of course; all self-respecting pirates wear red), with long fluffy hair like white wool and rainbow fringe! Oh, and she’s, like, half sheep or something. That’s cool too.

Wait. There’s something about sheep he’s forgetting... How could he have been so stupid?! He came to the surface in the first place in search of a sheep, and now he’s (kind of) found one!

The cool pirate lady says something, but Zedaph-- well, he does hear it, but it doesn’t process. Words are just mouth-sounds. He is in pain.

“Found a sheep,” he mumbles, “Come back to the canyon?”

“You’re hurt, man,” the sheep-pirate-lady says. She has pretty rainbow hair, and the white parts look like clouds.

She laughs. “Thanks.”

Clearly, this woman is a mind-reader! As well as a sheep. Really, two for the price of one. Zedaph isn’t quite sure what to do with a mind-reader, but his head will be much clearer and therefore able to dream up wacky hypotheses once he respawns--

He gasps, jerking forward and choking on his own breath when he remembers the cold truth. Xisuma won’t be able to respawn him, not for several days. Zedaph doesn’t want to spend that long in the void.

“Woah!” the woman exclaims, rushing to steady him. “You look pretty bad, dude. Let’s get you home or something. Where do you live?”

“Canyon,” Zedaph rasps. “I’m not supposed to tell you that, I don’t think. Can’t remember why.”

The nice woman goes very still. “Hey. My name’s Puffy. I’m gonna take you to the canyon. Do you think you can stand if I help you?”

“Puffy..?” Zedaph squints off into the middle distance, trying to remember something. “She’s the person who keeps coming back to that barrel, isn’t she?”

Puffy pulls Zedaph’s arm over her shoulder and gently pulls him up to his feet. “She is,” Puffy says softly.

“I hope she liked the enchanted diamond shears,” he mumbles.

“She did,” Puffy says softly. “She didn’t even know diamond shears were a thing.”

“I was going to make an emerald flint and steel,” Zedaph rambles, “but it turns out that items made of flint and steel aren’t conducive to being made of not-flint and not-steel."

"Who would have thought?" Puffy laughs, then trips over a vine. Zedaph makes a pained noise at the jostle to his leg, which is dragging a bit on the ground because Puffy is so much shorter than him. She notices this, and rethinks her strategy.

"At this rate, we'll never get back to the canyon," she gripes. "Climb on my back instead, I'll carry you."

Zedaph obliges, but warns, "Tango says I'm heavy.”

“I’m stronger than Tango, I’ll bet.”

The Hermit is actually a bit heavy, but this is a matter of pride now. And also, quite possibly a matter of urgency. The Hermit isn’t responding anymore. He’s still holding on, so he isn’t dead or completely unconscious; still, he’s not in a good state.

As soon as the elevator down to the bottom of the canyon comes into view, Puffy books it. Surely, in the canyon base, the Hermit will have healing potions? He (They? Multiple Hermits?) gave her a whole beacon, so obviously he/they are late-game enough to have plenty of potions.

Stepping into the elevator, Puffy presses the button, then puts her hand on the Hermit’s neck. It’s a bit of an awkward position, since his chin is hanging over her shoulder, but it makes her feel better to have a hand on his pulse. He makes a pitiful noise as the elevator descends.

“Easy there,” Puffy says, “you’re almost home.”

The moment the doors open, she ventures out into the village. The only safe place she knows is the barrel where she leaves her items for the Hermit(s), so she takes him there. Now that she’s looking, she spots shadows, eyes, movements, throughout the supposedly empty village. One such person comes out of the woodwork, sprinting.

“Zedaph!” exclaims a tall, musclebound man. His face is twisted in naked worry as he meets Puffy at the barrel, which she sets Zedaph down on.

The large man, who wears a black shirt with a creeper face on it (does that mean something, Puffy wonders?) scrutinizes the blond man on the barrel for a moment before springing into action, splashing potions and bits of lapis and-- holy shit, is that a Totem of Undying?! When the blond man, Zedaph, seems to come back to himself enough that he could reasonably eat a golden carrot with minimal choking hazard, the new man hands him one. Finally, he turns to Puffy.

“Thank you,” he says. The relief in his voice is tangible.

Puffy shifts awkwardly. “I was just doing the right thing. I noticed, uh, his bracelet.”

They both look to Zedaph’s wrist. It’s got a woven bracelet on it. The textile isn’t astounding, but the pattern on it is intricate. Puffy would know, she made it herself as a gift for the Hermit. As Puffy and the other Hermit look at each other, she realizes that he is also wearing something she made: a pair of fingerless gloves which are now stained with redstone dust.

He catches her staring. “We all have one-- oh, uh, my name’s Impulse, and this is Zedaph--”

“Impulse,” a new blond man hisses from behind the two. Puffy jumps. She didn’t hear him coming.

“Tango!” Impulse greets, suddenly nervous. Why a man as big as Impulse would be nervous when facing anyone, let alone a normal-looking guy like Tango, is beyond Puffy. Maybe Tango’s red eyes have some sort of significance?

“Impulse,” Tango repeats, looking around for anyone that isn’t a Hermit. “You’re not invisible.”

Impulse’s eyebrows draw together in a frown. “I had to see Zedaph.”

“Yeahhh,” Zedaph slurs.

“Besides, if we can trust any of the natives, it’s Puffy,” Impulse insists. He crosses his arms in what should be an intimidating display, but truthfully looks more like a pout.

“You know what Xisuma said,” Tango says. “I’m grateful to have Zedaph back, but...”

“Xisuma would agree with me,” Impulse says stubbornly.

Tango sighs explosively, full of nerves. “Alright, fine, can we at least get out of sight? Anyone could come wandering across the surface and spot us.”

“How many of you are there?” Puffy breathes. Everyone’s eyes snap to her.

“Twenty-four,” Zedaph says happily.

“Zedaph!” Tango admonishes.

Rolling his eyes, Impulse scoops Zedaph up off the barrel like he weighs nothing. He carries the dazed blond man down the path and into a cottage-style house. As Tango goes to follow, he catches Puffy’s eye.

“Sorry,” he says, “nothing personal. Just trying to avoid being explodificated, which means not being seen by the people who live on this server. You get it, yeah?”

He jogs off to catch up with Impulse, and Puffy hurriedly follows. Tango’s got a bracelet like Zedaph’s, but it’s one of the ones Puffy made out of different shades of red. She wonders if all the Hermits wear something she made.

The inside of the house is a bit cramped, but it’ll do. It’s got a bed, at least, so Zedaph’s got somewhere to keep his leg off the ground. This all feels surreal.

“So, uh...” Puffy says into the stuffy silence of the room. “How about that, uh, bedrock?”

Nobody has anything to say to that. Fuck.

Out of nowhere, yet another Hermit shows up. There’s a trapdoor in the wall that, now that she looks at it, Puffy realizes that Tango was hiding intentionally. That’s all gone to shit, though, because a man with white hair and a mask over his face peeks his head out from the hole in the wall.

“Hey guys, what--” The man takes a look around, spots Puffy, and freezes. “...On second thought, I’ll come back later.”

“Wait!” Impulse says to the man. “Get Xisuma, or at least tell him Puffy’s here if he can’t make the trip right now.”

“Karl thinks you’re Mothman,” Puffy blurts out to the white-haired man.

The man looks very self-satisfied for someone who’s only showing a quarter of his face. “Oh? Where does he live? For absolutely no reason, of course.”

“Etho...” Tango groans.

“Oh, alright, I’ll go get X.”

The man leaves. Oh boy, thinks Puffy, this is going to be interesting.

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

Colours

Word count: 1754

Genre: Angst and fluff

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing (let me know if I need to add more)

Request: How about a natasha x reader Soulmate AU?

Summary: Soulmate AU. Reader has never really liked the idea of a soulmate and is fine with not having one until she wakes up in a hospital able to see colours and Natasha is on a long mission.

A/n: This one took me awhile to get around to, but at least it’s here now. This was requested by both an anon and @casperlikej​ so I hope you and everyone else likes it! I keep deciding to catch up on my fics and then procrastinating so sorry I still have a lot I haven’t written yet. Enjoy!

You zip up your tactical suit, grinning across the jet at Natasha. She smiles softly back as she straps her guns to her thighs. You can’t help but stare at that movement, admiring how hot she looks before quickly taking your eyes away before she notices.

“Alright team,” Steve speaks up, “we need to find the weapon’s stash which is located in the red building in the north cluster.”

“Um Stevie, some of us don’t have soulmates and don’t fucking know what red is.” You remind him and he sighs, exasperated with your nickname for him.

“Just follow me.” He tells everybody but Tony, Bucky and Bruce. “And Y/n, how many times do I need to tell you that you haven’t found your soulmate yet, not that you don’t have one.”

You roll your eyes. “You know how I feel about soulmates Stevie.”

He opens his mouth to respond but Tony cuts him off. “As much as I would love to see the two of you argue about soulmates for the thousandth time, we’re landing.” 

The mood instantly turns serious as the jet touches down and everyone gives themselves a quick check over to make sure they have everything. You once again look at Natasha and grin as everyone makes their way off the jet. She doesn’t notice which is probably for the best because sooner or later she was bound to notice your small crush on her.

“Let’s get ‘em guys.” Tony says as you all rush towards a building in the back, following Steve’s lead.

The fire fight when you got to the cluster was heavier than expected and you were dodging bullets left and right. The hydra agents were dropping fast though and before long there were only a few of them left. You smile at your assumed success when you feel a sharp pain in your chest and you hit the ground and your vision starts to blacken. You can vaguely make out the voices of your teammates shouting at you to wake up but it takes too much effort so you let the darkness overcome you.

Wanda runs over to you, the first to see you fall, checking for a pulse, sighing in relief when she finds one.

“She’s still breathing.” She calls out and the rest of the team follows her lead, sighing in relief before taking down the few remaining hydra agents.

Steve steps forward, gingerly picking you up. “I’ll bring her back to the jet to get medical attention, the rest of you finish the mission.”

“But-” Natasha starts to protest but falls silent under Steve’s stern gaze. Steve takes you back, trying to find the balance between quickly getting you to the jet and trying to to jostle you. When he gets back he yells for the medics and places you on the table.

You feel as though everything is blurry. “Stevie?” You slur.

“Shhh, don’t speak, it’s going to be alright.” He tells you. You hear nurses come into the room, then the sharp prick of the needle then nothing.

Only a few minutes pass before the rest of the team comes bursting into the jet.

“Is she okay?” Bucky asks frantically as Natasha walks over to you and the others look on.

“She’ll be fine,” one of the doctors assures, “we just need to stitch her up and she needs some rest.”

“Good,” Natasha says shortly, reaching out to hold your hand, “HOLY SHIT!!!”

“What?” Multiple voices ask her.

She lets a small smile spread across her face. “I can see colours now.”

---

The first thing you hear is the tell tale beeping of machines that let you know that you were in either the hospital or medbay. You shift around in your bed, opening your eyes, taking in the room.

In your dazed state it takes a second for you to realize that you can see colours. “What the fuck?!?!?!??” 

“Isn’t it exciting?” Steve’s voice asks and you turn to the side to see him and Natasha sitting in the two chairs by the hospital bed. 

“Exciting?” You ask. “This is horrible! I don’t want a soulmate!”

“Don’t say that.” Steve says sternly.

“If that’s the way she feels it’s ok Steve, no need to get mad at her.” Natasha says before turning to you. “Now that I know you’re awake I have to leave for a mission.” With that she strides out of the room. 

“Be safe!” You shout after her.

When you turn back to Steve he’s shaking his head at you. “Why don’t you want a soulmate?” 

“Because the concept is stupid,” you explain as though it should be obvious, “I touch someone skin to skin and suddenly I can see colours? Now I’m automatically supposed to be in love? What the fuck is that?”

Steve sighs. “It’s hard to explain but Bucky makes me the happiest I’ve ever been, give your soulmate a chance.”

“No can do,” you say apologetically, “tell whoever it is sorry but I don’t want to shack up with some random person just because I’m supposed to.”

Steve looks disappointed in you but doesn’t disagree. “If that’s what you really want.”

---

It had been two months since the soulmate thing and honestly things were good. As much as the idea of soulmates still repulsed you you had to admit that seeing colours was pretty cool. The only bad thing was that Natasha had been gone on a top secret assignment since she had talked to you in the hospital and you missed her more than you should have.

Tony and Steve walk by and you stop them. “Do you guys have any idea of when Natasha is going to be back?”

They exchange a look before Tony speaks up. “We actually just got off the phone with Fury and her mission just ended but he’s giving her a little off time so she’s not coming back until next week.”

“Is Natasha okay?” You ask, frowning. “She doesn’t usually take off time.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. We’ll see you around later.” Steve says, brushing off your concern and walking away with Tony. You watch them walk away, suspicion clouding your thoughts. It was unlike Steve to not seem to care about his teammates so you know that something is wrong. You also are a bit suspicious of the glance Steve and Tony had before answering and you know for sure they are hiding something about Natasha’s mission. You snort to yourself, being a spy was your old job and they still thought they could hide things from you.

You decide to go and see if Fury will tell you anything about Natasha. You aren’t super concerned because you know if she was seriously injured or even dead Steve would have told you, you’re just very curious. 

“Come in.” Fury says when you knock on the door of his office.

You get straight to the point. “Why is everyone acting weird about Natasha’s mission and why is she taking time off? And don’t feed me some bullshit answer.”

He stays silent for a minute, appearing thoughtful. “I will tell you because I fear otherwise could damage team dynamics. However if this is information you don’t like, you have to pretend not to know it.”

“Of course sir.” You respond confused.

He slides a file across the table and you eagerly grab it and start to read, only to find out it’s your file.

“Why are you giving me my own file?” You ask him. He points his finger at a spot near the bottom of the page.

Soulmate: Natasha Romanoff

You look up in shock. “Natasha’s my soulmate???” He nods. “Shit!”

“I assumed you would be happy to find out she was your soulmate.” He tells you. “Please don’t let anyone, even Natasha, know that you know.”

“No sir,” you explain, “I am happy she’s my soulmate, I thought it was some random doctor I had never met, but I said, right in front of her that I didn’t want my soulmate.”

“I know Y/n, who do you think she begged to be allowed on a mission?” You look down sheepishly after he says that. 

He takes pity on you and scribbles an address down on a scrap of paper and hands it to you. “Take one of the small jets and don’t mess this up.”

“Thank you.” You tell him before rushing out of the room, immediately making your way to the jets.

---

Ten hours later you’re exhausted but finally are here and you knock on Natasha’s hotel room door. 

“Hello?” She questions when she answers the door. “How did you know where I was staying?”

“I know we’re soulmates.” You tell her, ignoring her question.

Her eyes grow wide. “You better come inside for this conversation.” You step in as she holds the door open and take a seat on the edge of the bed as she closes the door. Instead of sitting beside you she stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, her stance defensive.

“You can sit down.” You tell her, patting a spot beside you. 

She hesitantly makes her way over and takes a seat. “Thanks.”

You look at her, unsure of how to exactly express how you feel. “I’m sorry Tasha.” 

“There’s no need to be sorry,” she responds, “I’ve always known how you felt about soulmates.”

“Yeah but that was before I actually had one.” You say.

She scoffs. “Don’t back track now, I was in the hospital when you said you didn’t want a soulmate.”

“Tasha,” you breath reaching out to touch her hand with yours, biting her lip when she pulls away, “that was before I knew it was you.”She scoffs again, looking away. You put your hand on her chin and turn her to face you again. “I’m serious Tasha. I thought my soulmate was some doctor I didn’t know, not my friend who I happened to have a little bit of a crush on.”

She blushes and bites her lip. “So you do want me?” She asks, in a heartbreakingly timid voice.

“Always.” You say before leaning in to kiss her. She kisses super softly at first, like she’s scared you’re not there but quickly getting more comfortable. When you break apart you rest your forehead against hers, lips still close to touching. 

“My soulmate.” She says in a voice that’s the perfect mix of sweet and possessive to make your knees weak and your heart jump.

“Your soulmate.” You agree.

---

Tagging: @fayhar​ @stephanieromanoff​ @acertainredhead​ @stop-drop-and-drumroll​ @peggycarter-steverogers​ (if you want to be added, comment, send an ask, or message me)

[wooyunhwa]

𝒑𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚 | 𝑱𝒀

Genre: smut

Pairing: Yunho x fem reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings:  very dom!yunho, power dynamic, size kink, corruption kink kind of?, sex with your boss, choking, crying, rough sex, mentions of pain. 

Synopsis: When the heartless boss at your company pulls you into his office for the second time, you prepare to be fired. But he has other plans for you...

Tall, dark, handsome.

Those were the three words you would use to describe him. Sure, they were cliche, but they had never applied to anyone else like they did to him. There was only one problem -- he was your boss. Also… he seemed to hate you. 

Power dynamics had always appealed to you. You were turned on by the idea of control, and he had the most.

On the outside, you looked innocent. You made it a point to dress nicely every day, and your style of choice was soft, sweet, and girly. You wouldn’t say you were that innocent, although your previous sexual experiences had been less that gratifying, and almost excruciatingly vanilla.

Everyone in the office feared him, and you were no exception. Being called into his office was the worst thing anyone could imagine. You and your coworkers would joke around: “You better not take an extra minute on your lunch today, or Yunho will call you into his office.” There was a saying in your department, that if he called you in, you wouldn’t make it out. 

You had been called in once. You were reprimanded harshly about a mistake you made on an important document you had submitted. He was harsh, cold, and his deep voice sent shivers down your spine. You thought he was going to fire you on the spot that day. Instead, to your surprise, he let you go. You remember the fear you felt, the anxiety, and most of all you remember the feeling of his gaze on your back as he watched you leave his office. You were humiliated. Ever since that day, you avoided eye contact with him completely. Most people around the office did, anyway.

But that fear made your attraction to him even greater. You couldn’t explain it, but the taboo of it all was appealing to you. It didn’t matter though. You were convinced he hated you, you were just another disposable girl right out of college he could use for a while, and then fire without warning. There was no way anything ever would happen between you, but you couldn’t help but daydream at your desk about the things he could do to you. 

It was Friday, and you were sitting at your desk, watching the clock move slowly. Only 10 minutes to weekend freedom, you thought. The idea washed you over with relief.

The rest of your coworkers had dressed casually today, as they usually did on Fridays, but you were in your usually extra outfit -- a pleated skirt that fell above your knees, a cute blouse with lace trim, and a sweet bow tying your hair up out of your face. You had perfected the balance between cute and professional. Your co-workers sometimes teased you for how you dressed, your cutesy style drawing attention to how small you were. You were often mistaken for younger than you actually were because of it, but you didn’t mind too much. 

Yunho would usually make his rounds around the office to wish everyone a good weekend. It was something he did every Friday, the only day of the week he seemed to have a glimmer of humanity. Regardless, everyone was on edge as he paced through the workspace. 5 minutes left in the day, yet everyone would dig into their work and try to look as busy as possible, fearing punishment if they slacked off.

As he approached your desk, he stopped there for an unusually long amount of time, looming silently. You kept your eyes forward, not daring to acknowledge him before he spoke to you. 

He cleared his throat. “Y/N,” he started. He never used the names of his employees, unless he was reprimanding them, and even then, he rarely did so in front of the whole office. Your name rolling off his tongue made you freeze. 

Fuck, fuck, what did I do? Your mind was in a frenzy. You looked up at him, eyes wide, trembling with anxiety. You probably looked like a deer in headlights. 

He flashed you a smile, and you couldn’t comprehend it. You’d never seen him smile. You couldn’t read it -- was it sinister, or was it genuine? “No need to work so hard,” he said, the words dripping off his tongue smoothly. His deep voice was one of the most attractive things about him. You swallowed, quickly exiting out of your document. “It’s Friday.” You swallowed. “Yes, sir, sorry. I just wanted to get this proposal finished before I left.”

“Mhm…” he leaned his back against your desk, making piercing eye contact. You couldn’t help but glance down at the suit he was wearing. He looked incredible in it... He was so tall and lean, and his perfectly tailored suit accentuated that. You two looked out of place in the office today, the only two who weren’t dressed casually. He towered over you even when you were standing, but especially now, as you had to practically tip your head 90 degrees to meet his gaze. He tapped his fingers on your desk. “Why don’t you see me in my office before you go, okay?” 

You gulped. Those were words you never wanted to hear. “Y-yes sir,” you stammered. He turned his back and walked out into the hallway. You didn’t realize it, but you had been nearly holding your breath for the entire encounter, and as he left, you exhaled in relief, only forgetting for a second what he had asked.

Your coworker made eye contact from across the desk. “Holy fuck, Y/N, what was that?”

“I don’t know…” you responded, still shaken from your interaction.

As you gathered your things and made your way to his office, you mentally prepared to be fired. One time in his office wasn’t too bad, but two? You were toast for sure. 

You made a few quick knocks before entering the room meekly, head down. You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact. He was standing behind his desk, tapping his fingers on the wood expectantly. He gestured you over with a finger. Legs wobbly, you made your way over. You expected him to start scolding you, but instead…

“Why do you always dress like that?” he asked. You stopped in your tracks.

Huh? Did you hear him right? “Like- like what sir?”

“So cute. So innocent. Are you trying to tease me?” His voice was firm, and you felt the heat of his gaze on you.

You were taken aback. “No, sir, I-I just like dressing like this,” you stammered. You weren’t sure how to respond. Teasing him? 

He took one step closer to you, closing the distance, and tipped your chin up until you had no choice but to look him in the eyes. “You walk around here looking so cute, so innocent, it drives me crazy,” he growled. His voice was lowered even deeper than usual. He looked angry. “Ignoring eye contact, teasing me… I won’t take it.”

“I swear, I’m not trying to tease you. I thought- I thought you hated me. That’s why I avoid eye contact,” your voice was shaky. Your mind was spinning - was this really happening? Did your boss, the one you feared and yet dreamed about, the one you fantasized about, the one you couldn’t help but picture fucking the life out of you… did he just admit to being attracted to you?

He pushed back, his eyes still boring holes in you. “If you can tell me honestly that you’re not attracted to me, that you haven’t been teasing me, I’ll let this go, and I’ll never bother you about it again,” he said, his voice softer now. “But if you can’t…”

“I-” you started, but paused. You contemplated lying. You contemplated saying you’d never thought about it. “I… I can’t tell you that I’ve never thought about you in that way.” You couldn’t believe you were telling him this. 

He leaned his butt up against his desk, and you raised your gaze to meet his. God, he looked so good in that suit. 

“I know everyone here fears me,” he started, “but I’m not a monster...” You couldn’t help but scoff a bit under your breath. He sure did act like one. There wasn’t a soul around the office who didn’t view him as any less than a heartless villain. “Unless you want me to be.” Before you could react to his words, he was in front of you, pinning you against the edge of his desk. You looked around nervously, worried someone was going to see you “Don’t worry,” he assured, leaning closer. “Everyone else is already gone.”

Your legs tensed up from under you, and suddenly you felt dampness pooling between your legs. His sudden display of control had your head spinning. He brought his thumb up to your mouth, wiping it gently across your lips, sending a chill down your spine. He had you completely pinned under him, his other hand pressed flat on the desk for stability. You could feel his dick through his suit, pressing against your body. 

Was this really happening? Was this another one of your dreams about him? If it was, you were completely lucid.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he said firmly, as you watched lust grow in his eyes. It was a statement, not a question. You had ample room to protest, but you didn’t. You wanted this even more than he knew.

His lips collided with yours and you took in his taste. He tasted better than you could have ever imagined, and his lips were even softer than they looked. You made out for a good while, passion escalating as your bodies moved and ground against each other. 

He hoisted you up onto his desk to get a better angle on you, pushing himself between your legs, and you felt the bulge in his suit grow against you. He hadn’t even undressed yet, and you could already tell he was huge. He had discarded his suit jacket already, now only left in his well fitted button down and pants, waist cinched in beautifully by his belt. 

He started pulling your clothes off between kisses as he made his way down your neck: first your shirt, your skirt, your bra. His kisses were hungry, desperate, and he went in on your breasts, sucking and licking at your nipples as he moved a hand to your panties. His thumb made circles on your soaked-through panties, and you moaned at the sudden stimulation.

“I can’t wait to ruin you...” he moaned against the skin of your chest, finally pulling off your panties to reveal you fully. He toyed his fingers on the folds of your pussy, testing your wetness, and circling his thumb now on your clit. He knew exactly what he was doing with his fingers, and he inserted two inside of you as he continued to mark your breasts. “So pretty, so innocent,” he breathed against your skin. The warmth of his breath felt so good in the chilly air of his office. 

His long fingers took care of the inside of you while his thumb continued to circle your clit, eliciting squeaks and moans as you started to build to your climax. Before you could go over the edge, he stopped the movement of his fingers, pulling out of you. He knelt down between your legs, admiring you for a moment before slowly swiping his tongue, lapping up wetness. His tongue was everything you ever dreamed about and more, and without much effort on his part, he sent you over the edge, your hips involuntarily bucking up into his face. You felt his lips inch into a wicked smile. “You look so cute when you’re cumming,” he praised. His sweet words felt so contrasted against the lustful look in his eye, and the rough way he handled you.

He pulled back to unbutton his shirt, revealing his figure. His chest glistened lightly with sweat. He always wore well-fitting clothes, so you knew he was fit… but his body was even more incredible than you could have dreamed of. He started to unbuckle his belt, and when he pulled down his pants to reveal his cock, you nearly choked. It was huge. Scary big. There was no way that was going to fit. He must have watched your eyes widen, because his lips twitched up into a devilish grin. “Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he comforted, “I’m sure you can take it.” 

He positioned himself between your legs, preparing himself with your wetness. You thought he was going to go slow… you were so tiny in comparison to him, and his dick was bigger than you had ever experienced. Instead, he shoved himself in without any warning, leaving you crying out in surprise. You were wet, sure, but that did little to help you take his girth. Not to mention his length...

He brought his large hand up to your throat, easily wrapping his fingers around, applying gentle pressure as he bottomed out inside of you. Your brain didn’t know what to focus on -- his grip tightening around your neck, making your vision go fuzzy, or the pain of his dick inside you stretching you out to your limit. God, he was huge, and you couldn’t believe he even made it inside. 

He squeezed his long fingers around your neck tighter, and for a moment you were certain you were going to lose consciousness. You scrambled to pull his hand from your throat, tears welling up in your eyes, mind starting to fade out of reality. You were released from your high as he loosened his grip, and you sputtered and coughed as involuntary tears spilled down your cheeks.

He hadn’t even moved yet inside of you; instead he sat there, hips flush with yours, torturing you. The hand that had been glued to your neck like a vice moved to the cup under your chin, pulling your gaze to meet his. 

“You look like a mess,” he cooed. His words were harsh, but his voice was like honey. “You look so pretty when you cry.” He swiped the back of his hand across your face, smearing your tears across your cheek. Still pushed deep inside of you, he leaned forward to plant a gentle kiss on your jaw, tasting the saltwater off your skin. 

Without warning, he took an aggressive thrust inside of you, causing you to cry out. “Shh, shh, angel,” he shushed sweetly, stroking your hair softly. “I know you can take it.” You loved when he the way he talked to you, soothed you. Something about his words and his tone of voice were so comforting despite the less-than-gentle way he handled you.

“You’re so big- it hurts- I’ve never-- ah-” he thrusted in again, and tears again spilled down your cheeks. You couldn’t tell if the pain was overwhelming the pleasure, or the pleasure overwhelming the pain. 

“You know you can tell me if you want me to stop.” Another hard thrust. You let out a choked moan, unable to control the noises you were making. 

“No, no, I want this,” you persisted. You could take whatever he had for you. You had been dreaming of fucking him since the moment you saw him, and you weren’t going to let a bit of pain come in the way of your opportunity.

He pulled out of you suddenly, filling you with emptiness, and you let out a gasp. He grabbed you haphazardly and flipped you over on to your stomach, easily maneuvering your body with his large hands, like a toy. You were draped over the desk like a doll. He grabbed your hips and pulled them against his.. His hands took their time positioning on your hips, and he seemed to be admiring the view he had. “So tiny…” he mused, admiring the small of your waist from this angle. “I could destroy you.” 

You shivered. His words felt like a threat, and yet you welcomed the thought of him ruining you. 

This time he entered you slowly -- almost too slowly. It was torturous as he took his time, and it wasn’t any easier the second time for his dick to spread you open. He pumped shallowly, tracing his fingers along the skin of your back and sides. It tickled, and you couldn’t help but squirm and giggle a bit, letting your guard down. 

That’s when he made his move. He thrusted into you even harder than before, causing you to yelp. “Sir- ah-” you moaned, giving in to the pain a bit. One of his hands came to grip your hair from behind, tugging your head back as he thrust into you deeply, finally getting into a rhythm with his hips. The pain subsided as he pumped in and out, and your pleasured moans harmonized with his throaty grunts as you moved together. You felt barely in control of your own vocal cords, every so often choking out a “fuck”, “please don’t stop”, or crying out his name.

His hips against your ass made a loud slapping sound with every thrust. From this angle you could feel every inch of him fully inside you, scraping against your tight walls. The sensations seemed to have doubled. “You're so tight,” he growled, his breathing getting heavier, approaching his climax. He delivered a final thrust before pulling out, and you felt warm liquid spill onto your back as he came. You immediately collapsed your upper body onto the desk, your legs barely holding you up. 

He lifted you off the desk easily in a bridal hold position and laid you down on the couch in the corner of his office. He left briefly for the bathroom and came back with a few paper towels to wipe you off with, singing you sweet praises as he took care of you. His voice again was sweet, smooth like honey. “What a good girl you were,” he said softly, leaning up to your ear. He lowered his voice into a whisper, sending chills down your spine. “Next time we can see how pretty you look choking on my cock.”

All you could do was nod wordlessly. You were breathless, eyes heavy, succumbing to the darkness beneath your lids. You thought about trying to get up, as you weren’t really keen to the idea of falling asleep in the office, but there was no way you’d be able to stand on your feet, let alone drive home. You felt him draw a blanket over you, covering you in much needed warmth. “I’ll see you on Monday,” he whispered into your ear as you drifted off. “The keys out of the building are on the desk.” And with that, the world fell away.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Princess Part 13

Harry Potter AU 

Link to Part 12 

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M- smut, rough sex, kinks

Credit to Supernatural- the first bit is borrowed from the show because its fitting for Sirius and Regulus

_______

Sirius woke up to the lovely sound of someone throwing up in the bathroom. Getting out of bed, Sirius walked down the hall and peeked in the doorway to see Regulus on his knees with his head practically in the toilet.

“You look hungover. Reg, you have some tolerance.”

Regulus groaned upon hearing his brother’s voice. Sirius was the last person that he wanted to deal with. He would have preferred that it was you ready to pamper him until the pain in his stomach stopped.

“It's more like a curse.”

Regulus replied. He was annoyed that he literally had to drink a shit ton of booze to be able to feel anything. Why in the hell did he have to get straight shit faced in order to get a decent night's sleep without nightmares?

Sirius carefully looked his brother’s extremely pale form over carefully before speaking again.

“You look sick.”

Regulus wanted to congratulate his brother on stating the obvious but maybe it was Sirius' strange way of being caring.

“Brandy tastes just as bad coming up as it does going down.”

Regulus replied. Sirius smirked deciding to go in with a bit of revenge on Regulus for making you worry so much.

“You know there's a really good cure for a hangover. It's a greasy pork sandwich served up on a dirty ashtray.”

Regulus groaned in misery before throwing up all over again.

“I hate you.”

He groaned. Sirius grinned, getting the result that he wanted the most.

“Yeah, I know you do. Better perk up, Y/n stepped out to have her hair done. She said she wanted to try to put a smile on your face. None of us have smiled much lately.”

Regulus groaned as he sat back against the bathroom wall. Sirius was definitely right on that one. Since moving in with Sirius and Remus, things had been tense. Regulus knew that he had been a lot “shorter” than normal but you seemed to be letting things slide.

Both of you were tense from “laying low.” Not being able to live your normal lives was difficult. Regulus had pretty much given up everything that he knew. The two of you were no longer going on lavish dates and being a death eater was pretty much over. Regulus didn’t mention it to you but he felt almost directionless.

Don’t let her see you be weak.

That was the one little bit of advice that Orion had given his son when it came to relationships.

You are the man in the relationship. Y/n doesn't need to see you be weak. She needs you to be the strong and confident men that you are supposed to be.

Orion’s advice had been helpful for most of Regulus’ life when it came to his relationship with you. He figured that was why things worked out the way that they did. He was trained on how to be the “Black family-approved” husband and you were the “Black family-approved” wife.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

Regulus muttered as he stood up to freshen himself up. Sirius didn’t move from his place by the door as Regulus looked at his normally neat and tidy appearance. Today, however, Regulus' hair was a mess and he had what looked like a light five o’clock shadow forming.

“You should probably take a shower and comb your hair.”

Sirius suggested. Regulus ran a hand through his messy curls before turning back to his brother.

“Bye Sirius!”

(meanwhile)

You sat in the beautician’s chair as she worked on your hair.

“You’re going to be lovely. I’m glad to hear that you have gotten back with Regulus.”

The beautician, Kendra, said with a happy smile. She seemed to miss the way that your mouth dropped at the comment. You hadn’t mentioned to Kendra anything about your relationship with Regulus to her.

“Excuse me?”

You questioned. Kendra smiled from over the chair.

“I spoke with Emma a few weeks ago. She said the two of you had broken up over you having pre-wedding jitters. How were you able to move past Regulus and Emma’s affair?”

Your mouth dropped at that comment. Just what was Emma Rosier telling people?

“There was no affair between Regulus and Emma. It sounds like she is just running her mouth. Between you and me, it sounded like Emma was doing a lot of talking that made no sense. I think that your cousin’s death hit her a little harder than expected.”

You wanted to feel sorry for Emma at the moment but you couldn’t. She was dealing with her pain but wanting to cause you more. You had, at one point, wanted to feel sorry for her but you wasn’t now.

“She’s gone batshit and if you see her feel free to let her know.”

Arriving back home, you were still fuming over Emma. You had been so lost in your own world that you didn’t notice Regulus sitting on the couch with his shirt halfway unbuttoned. He raised an eyebrow when you didn’t notice his current “state.” Normally, if you saw him with his shirt halfway undone you took it an invitation for a good afternoon fuck.

“You seem a bit distracted.”

Regulus’ said as he noticed the distracted expression on your face. You looked at him like a deer in the headlights as Regulus stood up. Holy, fuck when was the last time that you had seen Regulus looking like this?

He stood looking at you with the Black family scowl on his face as he raised an eyebrow at you. Blinking, your eyes fell down his body. You could see a little bit of his chest and the way that he had his shirt sleeves rolled up made the desperate lover within you ache. Had it really been so long since you had seen Regulus look like this? He looked just like the man that you had fallen in love with.

“Reggie…”

“You look pretty...very pretty...fucking gorgeous actually.”

You blushed as Regulus closed the gap between your bodies and cupped your cheek. He smiled before tilting your face to his. Leaning down for a kiss, he let his tongue caress your bottom lip before pulling away. Regulus made sure to make the kiss as teasing as possible. He wanted you as sexually frustrated as he felt.

“You’re such a pretty little love. What would you like, sweetheart?”

You batted your eyes before contemplating if you should give Regulus a sweet response or just be blunt. After a moment of deciding, you decided to go with the latter.

“My pussy could use some company.”

Regulus gave her a devilishly delicious grin. He wrapped his hands around your waist and yanked your body against his.

“Then go upstairs and be waiting for me naked. I’m going to fix myself a drink and I will join you momentarily.”

“Yes, sir.”

You said before turning and running up the stairs. As quickly as possible, you undressed down to your bra and knickers. Your hands had barely undone the clasp of your bra when Regulus walked into the bedroom with a drink in his hand. You were immediately curious if it was just water or if he had alcohol in his hand. Going with the latter, you decided Regulus was probably drinking...

“Now I thought that I made myself very clear. I am sure that I told you to be naked. I still see knickers on your ass. Now get over here, I am going to put you across my knee for not doing as you were told, little girl.”

Regulus sat down on the small sofa that was in the corner of the bedroom. He spread his legs enough to give you a bigger surface to lay on. You did as you were told and lay across Regulus’ laps. Involuntarily, you raised your ass up a bit as Regulus’ hand gently rub over your cheek.

“I don’t know why you have to be so naughty. I wanted to bring you upstairs and make sweet gentle love to you but now I want to play hard.”

Before you could respond, Regulus’ hand moved from gently rubbing to crashing against your ass with a loud POP. The pain felt so damn good! You began to squirm in hopes to put some pressure on your swollen clit. Rubbing against Regulus’ thigh provided some comfort but it wasn’t enough. Regulus held you in place so you wouldn’t be able to give yourself too much relief. The pleasure stopped as soon as it began. Regulus noticed the wet spot on his dress pants

“Oh, princess, look what you did. Now how are you going to fix this? I rather liked these jeans.”

You slid off of Regulus’ lap and settled between his legs. Meeting his gaze for permission, you waited until he raised an eyebrow as if asking what the hold up was? Your skilled fingers unbuckled his belt before moving to ease his dress pants down his slender hips.

Regulus was hard as a rock when you finally freed his cock from his pants.

“May I?”

You asked with a sweet smile. If you were sweet as pie, Regulus would let you do whatever you wanted.

“Go on.”

Regulus replied. You gently took Regulus into your mouth and sucked eagerly at the head of of cock. Regulus sighed before swearing under his breath. He reached down and stroked his hand through your hair.

“You always know how to touch me. I could never want another. You will always be my only one, princess.”

When your eyes fluttered open and met him you silently agreed to the sentiment returning your own promise of love. Regulus let you continue with the blowjob for a moment before saying,

"Enough! Get on the bed and on your back.”

You didn’t wait for Regulus to tell you twice before getting on the bed and spreading your legs wide. Slowly, you slipped your hand down your body to stroke over your clit and tease your entrance.

“Harder, Reggie.”

Regulus was unbuttoning his shirt but stopped hearing you moan his name. It was Regulus’ turn to look like a deer in the headlight but he quickly recovered.

“Naughty girl.”

Regulus replied before kneeling down on the floor. He reached up and yanked you to him by your thighs. Draping your legs over his shoulders, Regulus buried his face between your legs. He inhaled your scent before pressing a soft kiss to your mound before turning to your thigh. Without thinking about what he was doing, Regulus sucked a love bite onto your tender skin. He planned on marking you up so everyone would be able to see.

You cried out from under him. The moment that your fingers tangled in his curls, Regulus groaned. You messing with his hair would forever be his weakness. He remained motionless before resuming his licking. You began to feel the pleasure mounting. With each moment the tension in your legs and your cries let Regulus know how close you were to coming. He gave you one brief moment of no contact before engulfing your clit. Regulus sucked on it relentlessly until your body writhed with pleasure. When you finally came, Regulus remained in place licking whatever you had to give him.

Regulus slowly stood up, unable to wait anymore. He had to have you. There would be no more waiting! Regulus positioned you onto your side as he sat up on his knees. Placing your leg up the length of his chest and over his shoulder, Regulus lowered enough to push his cock into your waiting pussy.

“Damn it.”

Regulus growled as he sat up a steady pace that left both of you moaning each other’s names. Flipping his now messy curls back, Regulus let his head fall back as your body began to tighten around his.

You weren’t even able to say that you were coming as your orgasm hit you. Regulus’ eyes snapped open wide.

“Fuck, princess. You’re going to suffocate my cock...keep going.”

Regulus pounded you through your orgasm until he felt his building.

"Oh my god, I can't hold it,"

He said through clenched teeth. Regulus’ pace quickened as his balls slapped against your ass. He gave you a few more quick deep thrusts then his whole body stiffened and froze on the brink of what was quite possibly the best orgasm that he had in a long time. Unable to hold back any longer, he exploded inside of you.

When the waves subsided, Regulus collapsed on top of you. He smiled when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders trying to preserve the close contact. Regulus wasn’t about to pull away. He wanted to keep his cock inside of you. Between your body being nice and warm and hopes of a round two, withdrawing made no sense.

Regulus’ peaceful state was ruined when there was a knock on the door.

“Mother fucking hell.”

Regulus grunted as he pulled out of you and reached for an abandoned towel to wrap around his waist. He hoped that whoever was on the other side of the door didn’t mind being greeted by his naked self with love bites all over his neck.

Cracking the door, Regulus frowned seeing Sirius on the other side. His older brother’s eyes widened seeing Regulus’ current state. Sirius didn’t expect Regulus with only a towel around his waist to open the door. He had a feeling that if he looked further in the room he would see you butt booty naked waiting for Regulus to come back.

“First off, gross. Second, I have some bad news...dad was found dead. It looks like death eaters did it. I have a feeling that this is tied in with our old buddy Emma Rosier.”

Regulus’ mouth dropped.

“I’ll be downstairs in five minutes.”

_______

@amelie-black @regulusheadcanons @truly-insatiable @realgaytrash @sunles @fific7 @val-sixx @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @spiderxalmighty @criminalyetminimal @whymyparentscheckmyphone @hazncalsgal @bennyberry @jessyballet @knreidy1 @rubyroscoe1 @acciosiriusblack @lucasfilms77 @exhsle @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @hankypranky @fandom-trash-worth-it @summer-novak @marichromatic @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @li0nh34rt @tas898 @stuckinsaudi1 @untoldshortsofthefandoms @sprnaturallover @shitfaceddaniel @deanwherescas @wontlookaway @mycuddlycorner

[chockfullofsecrets]

D20 Fantasy High: Making Room

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: She grunts, presumably shoving at him and not having much success given Fabian’s triumphant snickering. “I said make room-”

Riz pries himself up off the carpet, thinking of moving to help her, when Fabian lets out a startled squeak. Everyone goes quiet.

Fig leans off the bed with truly devilish glee in her tiefling eyes. “Guys, he’s ticklish.”

The Bad Kids try to plan a sleepover, Fabian needs to learn how to share, and Riz is maybe starting to get the hang of this whole friendship thing.

Wordcount: 2.1k

A/N: not to be entirely into D&D on main, but - hey, look, it’s another cool D&D campaign XD shoutout to @hypahticklish for expressing enough interest in this fic to make me want to write it <3

Loose spoilers for the end of Fantasy High Season 1, beware!

---

Riz thinks he’s really starting to get a handle on this whole friendship thing.

Solving a mystery and getting thrown in jail and killing a dragon together aren’t exactly reproducible results, which kind of sucks, but - hey, the six of them are friends now, and they’re hanging out in Fabian’s room on a summer evening, and it’s novel enough to feel like a solved case all on its own.

What’s less satisfying is the amount of missed work they have to catch up on if they want to start as sophomores next year; no one bothered to worry about bringing them homework while they were in actual prison, but all their professors sure seem to care about it now. He gets the feeling that at least part of it is Aguefort trying to keep some degree of respectability after everything that happened with Goldenhoard, but any attempt to reason with him thus far has gotten nowhere but wild-eyed stares and increasingly obtuse lectures on chronomancy and time management. And sure, Riz prides himself on being able to untangle obscure information, but he’s not touching that with a ten foot pole.

They’re all sprawled out on Fabian’s floor, working through assignments with varying levels of fervor ranging from Adaine - actually working with a stack of textbooks nearly up to her shoulder next to her on Fabian’s desk - to Kristen - texting Tracker with a lack of stealth that makes Riz want to grind his teeth a little, even more so than the way she goes bright red and giggles every time her crystal pings - when Fig groans and rolls onto her back.

“You know what?” she says to the room at large, throwing her arms wide. Her hand knocks into her bard notebook, somehow both dusty with disuse and covered in scribbled ballpoint pen sigils. She flips it neatly in the air and elbows it away in Adaine’s direction, earning a half-annoyed yelp. “We should have a sleepover.”

Half of them blink uncomprehendingly, but Kristen drops her crystal in a sudden rush of excitement. “YES,” she shouts. Gorgug, propped against the wall next to her and dozing off over barbarian meditation manuals, startles. “I can show you guys so many cool camp things! We just need a bunch of different colors of yarn and some sticks and - yeah, we can probably skip the holy water to keep the sinners away-”

Riz has - he’s had sleepovers before, if Penny coming over to babysit and finding him crashed out on the couch after a night of reading old case files from his mom counts. He reaches up and straightens his cap, trying to make it look smooth. “Hey, Fabian, do you have coffee here?”

“Wait, wait, hold on a minute.” Fabian, sitting against his giant bed, waves dramatically for all their attention. He looks them over once he gets it, self-importantly adjusting his eyepatch. “Yes, The Ball, we have coffee, we’re not peasants - but sleep over where? Did I miss that part?”

“Uh, here?” Fig says, flinging herself upright. “You’re mom’s super hot - uh, cool, I bet she’d let us do anything.”

“Stop calling my mom hot!” Fabian yelps, glowering for a moment before his chest puffs with familial pride. “Well, we do have at least five guest bedrooms that we could house all of you in-”

“Oh, I don’t need a bed,” Gorgug says hastily. “I’d probably break it, I can just sleep on the floor.”

“Yeah, Fabian, no,” Kristen interjects, gesturing with her staff. Gorgug scrambles to remove the cups they’ve been drinking soda out of from her path. “We’re all supposed to hang out in the same room, that’s kind of the point!” She frowns a little, zeroing in on him. “Have you. Have you never been to a sleepover before?”

Riz hasn’t quite gotten around to making a conspiracy board of how all the specific issues of their messed up childhoods overlap, but he can read the way Fabian startles indignantly loud and clear. “Of - of course I have!” he blusters. “I just - why the fuck would you share a bed if you didn’t have to?”

Adaine scoffs. “Fabian, your bed is enormous, I think we could all fit on it with room for the Hangman left over.”

“No, it’s not!” Fabian scrambles up, chin still raised haughtily, and throws himself bodily on the bed - judging from the way his ankles hang off the edge, he’s starfishing out as far as he possibly can. “I’m - see, I’m a growing boy, I need my space! Cathilda says so.”

Adaine, having claimed the only chair in the room and therefore being the only one at eye level with the mattress, cranes her neck and laughs. “Fabian, you’re covering less than half of the bed. You can just say you’ve never been to a sleepover before, you know.”

Fig stands up and launches herself onto the bed too, landing heavily with the zippers on her leather jacket clanking behind her. “Yeah, you just have to - oof - make room-”

She grunts, presumably shoving at him and not having much success given Fabian’s triumphant snickering. “I said make room-”

Riz pries himself up off the carpet, thinking of moving to help her, when Fabian lets out a startled squeak. Everyone goes quiet.

Fig leans off the bed with truly devilish glee in her tiefling eyes. “Guys, he’s ticklish.”

The room erupts into chaos - Fabian shouting denials, Fig cackling evilly, and Kristen shooting up and banging her shins against the bed before scrambling around to Fabian’s other side. Riz hops up on the desk next to Adaine just in time to watch each of the other girls seize his outstretched arms and start to mercilessly tickle his armpits.

“GAHAHA - no, no, stoHOP-” Fabian flails helplessly between the two of them, still trying to sprawl out over the bed. He manages to wrench his arm free from Fig and shove her away even as he shouts with laughter. “Seacasters are not - ahaaa, haaAA - I’m not ticklish!”

“Oh, yeah?” Kristen taunts. “Then why are you laughing, you - ohshit-”

They’re trying to wrestle him down, but he’s too strong for Fig and too dextrous for Kristen. She lunges for him, red hair flying behind her, and falls straight into his lap.

Fabian catches both of Fig’s wrists in one big hand and uses the other to poke triumphantly at Kristen’s belly, sending her into a fit of cackling giggles. “Aha!” he exclaims triumphantly, struggling into a sitting position. “A Seacaster cannot simply be rousted from his territory!”

All of them know better than to say anything about his dad by now. “Gorgug, come help us hold him down!” Fig demands instead, kicking at Fabian with her platform boots and making him yelp in pain.

Gorgug pulls his headphones all the way off his ears and straightens just enough to take in the tangle of the three of them, looking dubious. “Are you sure? That sounds kind of mean.”

“It’s not a problem if he’s not ticklish, right, Fabian?,” Fig retorts. “And he’s breaking sleepover code by hogging the bed!"

Kristen, still laughing uproariously as she fails to save herself from Fabian’s tickling fingers, somehow manages to shoot Gorgug a pair of finger guns. “Get him, Gorgug!”

Gorgug still looks a little confused - Riz can relate - but he gamely climbs to his feet. “Well, okay.”

He pauses to knock gently on the bedframe, sighing in relief at the heavy thunk that echoes back. “Oh, cool, that’s pretty strong.”

Fig yelps as Fabian lets up on Kristen and starts prodding at her belly instead. “Gorgug, come on!”

“Oh, right,” Gorgug says, and sends the mattress an entire inch to the left as he scrambles on.

“Hell yeah!” Fig cheers as Gorgug climbs on the bed and sweeps Fabian up in a restraining hug. “Sig Figs solidarity!”

Kristen squirms out from between the three of them. “Hey, I’m here too!”

She flops down with a breathy sigh and hugs herself, grinning widely as she catches sight of the identical what-the-fuck expressions that Riz is pretty sure he and Adaine are wearing. “Ugh, I haven’t been tickled in forever.”

Adaine makes a considering sound as Kristen twists back to the battle royale happening behind her. Riz looks over at her, catches one of her ears twitching under the attention before she looks back. “I don’t think I’ve ever been tickled,” she murmurs, a little shy.

Penny’s tickled him before, and maybe his mom when he was little, but yeah, it’s been a while. He shrugs. “You think you’d like it?”

There’s another cry from the bed, and both of them whip around to look. Fig’s looming over a thoroughly trapped Fabian now - just barely, even with her horns - and wriggling her fingers evilly with gleaming eyes. “Are you going to say you’re sorry for breaking sleepover code?”

“There’s - there’s no sleepover code,” Fabian sputters, but he’s grinning sheepishly even as he squirms against Gorgug’s hold. “Gorgug, man, come on, you can’t just betray a fellow member of the Bloodrush team like this!”

“Oh - uh -” Gorgug looks pleadingly at the both of them. “But I’m in the Sig Figs too - does that mean one of you guys is going to be mad at me?”

Fabian barely blinks. “Yes.”

“YES,” says Fig, even louder.

“Oh, come on, you two.” Kristen sits up between Fig and Fabian, poking at both of their sides and cutting their protests off as they suck their lower lips between their teeth with identical wide-eyed looks. Then, with a curious tilt to her head, she reaches around to tickle Gorgug’s side too, grinning as he squeaks. “There are no sides in a tickle fight, everyone knows this.”

Riz forgets that Kristen has three little brothers, sometimes. It’s easy to, until she starts playing peacekeeper between the rest of them.

“Where are all these rules coming from?” Fabian questions indignantly. Adaine makes a sound of agreement next to Riz - is she writing these down?

Oh, who’s he kidding, he’s probably going to ask her for a copy afterwards.

Fig smirks. “Well, I think the person with their hands free should get to enforce the rules. Like so.” She reaches for the thin tank top Fabian’s wearing and scribbles her fingers over his belly, crowing in delight as he shrieks. “Not ticklish, huh? Who’s ticklish now, bitch?”

“You - ahaha, haaa, fuck - anyone’s ticklish when they’re being restrained!” Fabian insists through panicked laughter, wriggling for all he’s worth. Riz squints - maybe it’s just the rogue homework he’s been doing lately, but it looks like Gorgug’s not even holding him that tight.

He shrieks again as Kristen bounces excitedly and reaches for him too. “Nonono, NOHOHO - Kristen, ahaha! You said - eheheee, stop - you said no sihihides!”

“These are your hips, Fabian. And no sides doesn’t mean you can’t gang up on people,” Kristen sticks her tongue out in concentration, squeezing at one of his hips and then the other. “Hey, say you’re ticklish.”

“What? No - hahaha - shit, shiHIHIT-” Fabian starts to really thrash under their teasing - Riz catches him elbowing Gorgug neatly in the gut, but their barbarian absorbs the blow like it’s nothing. Riz tries not to feel jealous and doesn’t entirely succeed.

Kristen smiles beatifically from cheek to freckled cheek. “The truth’ll set you free, brother.”

Fabian shakes his head frantically, catching sight of Riz and Adaine by his desk through teary eyes. “The Ball - The Ball, help me, this isn’t - ahahaha, nonoplease - it’s not fair!” he pleads through the widest smile Riz has seen on him so far, which is saying something. “Don’t you care about justice?”

Fig looks over at them too, now, hair slipping from her braid and fangs on full display as she beams. “Yeah, you two, get over here or you’re next! You’re missing out on the sleepover fun!”

“Oh,” Adaine says uncertainly. “I didn’t know this was part of it.”

She looks over at Riz - not that he knows any better, but he’s absolutely not going to cop to it. “Oh, yeah, tickle fights,” he blusters. “Definitely part of sleepovers. To, uh, tire everyone out.”

Adaine looks out of the window at blue skies just barely starting to blush pink and gets a small, quiet grin on her face that he can’t help but return. “Oh, okay,” she says. “Riz, are you ticklish?”

Oh. Oh, no.

Riz stiffens. It doesn’t seem like anyone else has heard Adaine’s question, maybe he can get under the bed before any of them notice -

He. He could, is the thing, he’s an awesome rogue, but - out here seems pretty fun too. “That’s more of a hands-on investigation thing,” he shoots back, and leaps for the bed before she can catch hold of him.

He is, after all, an investigator first and foremost, and there’s more room to be made on that mattress.

[g-on-ef]

Hey is it possible to ask for Striker being extra protective over 8 month pregnant Blitz?

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Anon 2: Hellos I was hoping you still did prompts because I would Love to see one of Striker being over protective of a heavily pregnant Blitz if possible

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A/N: Since these two prompts are relatively the same I decided to combine them together ^^ hope you guys enjoy it ^^ also sorry for being MIA I wasn't feeling good but today is a good day ^^ my boys got a number 1 on Billboard for a second week ^^

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Month 1

Finding out he was pregnant was the scariest thing to ever happen to him, seriously knowing that there was a new life growing inside him was scaring him shitless, what made it worse was he wasn't sure how to tell the baby's father.

After vomiting out his lunch in his and Striker’s bathroom Blitz began to think what to do next.

It's not like Striker would leave him or anything, he was just scared that he wouldn't want the baby or worse would leave him once he finds out he was pregnant.

It was weird to think like that since he has shown time and time again what an amazing father he is, than again Loona wasn't a little kid nor was she a baby so maybe that's why it was easier for him to be a parent to her than it would be an actual baby.

Blitz leans against the bathroom wall as he thinks about what to do, lying to Striker was out of the question, the man knew Blitz better than anyone and knew when he was lying so there was no point in doing it.

Maybe he could avoid Striker...who was he kidding he could barely go a day without his beloved no way he was gonna be able to go nine months without him.

Blitz curled into a ball and wrapped his tail around himself. No avoiding him won’t work. Maybe he could ease him into letting him know he’s pregnant like letting him know by dropping hints and let him figure it out himself.

"Blitz?"

The city imp jumped a little as he turned to see Striker approach him.

"Loona told me you were, whoa are you okay?" Striker stared at his beloved who was curled in a ball and face was a little paler than it should be.

“Umm...well...you see...” 

Striker approached the city imp he placed his hands on his forehead and checked his temperature.

“You seem a little warmer than usual but nothing a bowl of soup can fix,”

“I’m pregnant!” so much for easing him into the news.

Striker stare at his beloved for a good minute.

The silence was making Blitz a little uncomfortable, he wasn’t sure if this was him trying to find the words to say something sarcastic or him to try and find the words that he didn’t want the baby without upsetting Blitz.

“If...if you don’t want the baby your more than welcome to leave, I won’t stop you,”

That seem to snap Striker out of his trance.

“Not want the-Blitz are you crazy?”

Blitz shrugged his shoulders, Striker just stare at his mate and saw how scared he looked, Striker didn’t blame him, he probably thought Striker didn’t want the baby since he was...silent...

“Oh, shit Blitz,” he grabbed the smaller imp and placed him on his lap Blitz curled himself against Striker as his cowboy began to stroke his cheek.

“Oh baby, I was quiet because I was trying to think of ways to tell you to get rid of the baby I was just quiet because I am shocked that you and I are gonna have a baby,”

Blitz pulled back a little to stare at Striker,

“So...you’re not gonna leave me and our baby?”

“What? Of course not baby,” he held Blitz closer to his body.

“I would never leave you or our misfit family,”

Blitz smiled as he purred and got closer to Striker. Striker stood up and carried Blitz out of the bathroom and into their own bed.

He tucked him and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Get some rest my beautiful, you’ll need it, and you,” he began to rub Blitz small tummy.

“You take it easy on your daddy okay?” Blitz smiled as he watch Striker place a kiss on his tummy, maybe things won’t be so bad.

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Month 3

What was Blitz thinking that things wouldn’t be so bad with Striker knowing he was pregnant. 

Seriously Blitz was just 3-months pregnant and Striker baby proof not only their apartment but his office.

There were times he couldn’t find the stapler and whenever he asked Striker he would take the papers and stable them himself.

Blitz was still looking for the damn thing.

He was worse with Moxxie, the poor assassin came rushing in with a pair of scissors and Striker respond with a punch to the face.

He gave the cowboy an earful for that and made him sleep on the couch.

Striker wouldn’t let him do any heavy lifting and while Blitz love being pampered Striker was taking it to far.

He can still lift a stack of papers.

“Ugh, your not even born yet and daddy dearest is already protective of you,”

“SIR!” and there goes Moxxie no doubt being thrown around because he was carrying a glass of soda...again.

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Month six

He was gonna kill Striker, no seriously he was gonna kill him. Loona and Nathan (he’s still surprised that the little imp agreed to join their family with no questions asked) ate all the chips, cookies, and other sugary sweets and process food there was in the kitchen.

“Where the fuck are all my chocolate?!”

“Dad told us we can eat them,” Nathan asked as he munch on some nachos.

“Why the fuck did he do that?!”

“It’s not good for the baby,” Loona said as she finished the last of the soda.

He glared at his two teenage children, the two tagged team with Striker to make sure that no harm came to Blitz or the baby.

Honestly he was beginning to think his family of three where just using the “we are protecting you” excuse to hurt anyone that came near him.

He was still apologizing to Charlie for Loona shooting at her when she was coming to congratulate her brother and was excited for being an aunt.

Not to mention he owed Angel Dust some whisky after Nathan caught him in a trap.

“You didn’t have to eat all of my snacks he whined.

Loona passed him a box of sliced apples and strawberries.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Food that will be good for you and the baby,”

Blitz groan, he was killing Striker when he got back. 

“Hey Blitz-”

Striker felt pain in his groin, he kneeled down and watched as Blitz walked away from him.

“He’s still pissed about his diet?”

His kids nodded their heads as they kept eating Blitz’s junk food.

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Striker maybe protective but he was so sweet like now how he was rubbing his tummy and singing to his tummy,

Moonchild you shine When you rise, it's your time C'mon yo Moonchild don't cry When moon rise, it's your time C'mon yo Moonchild you shine When moon rise, it's your time C'mon yo

Blitz always loved Striker’s voice and hearing it sing to their baby was the best thing for him especially when their little one always calmed down when they heard their daddy’s singing voice.

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Month 8

Blitz held onto his children, someone was in their home, an overlord...and not just any overlord, Valentino, the moth pimp was still pissed at him for refusing to kill an innocent child all because Vox dumped his ass.

He, Loona, and Nathan were hiding in the closet as Val and his men destroyed his house, he prayed that Striker would return soon from the human world.

The door to the closet opened and Val stood there with a wide grin.

“Found you,”

He brought Nathan and Loona closer to his body while both teenagers wrapped their arms around Blitz’s stomach in an attempt to protect his belly.

“You know Blitz you shouldn’t have refused me, if you didn’t maybe your sweet family wouldn’t be harm.

His eyes landed on Loona,

“Oh yes, your little hellhound would make a fine addition to my collection,” Loona growled as Blitz held her closer.

Val’s eyes landed on Nathan,

“The little imp boy and the thing inside you will definitely serve my clients really well,” Nathan whimpered as Blitz growled at him.

“Touch my kids and I’ll kill you,”

Val laughed.

“You? Kill me? now how could you possibly do that?”

A loud bang could be heard in the house making the family sigh in relief.

“What the fuck?” 

Before Val could turn around Striker began to stab him with a holy blade.

The moth demon howl in pain as the knife was stabbed inside of him repeatedly Striker stabbed the moth multiple times, he didn’t stop, not until he was certain the moth was dead.

Once he saw that the demon was reduce to ash he turned to his family.

Opening his arms his children and Blitz ran to him. He wrapped his arms and tail around them, thanking La Santa Muerte that his family was okay and nothing bad happened to them.

He checked them all one by one stroking their faces, checking to see if there was a scratch on them or not hugging them close to his body.

He rubbed Blitz’s tummy and bend down to kiss it.

“Are you okay Blitz?”

“Yeah, we’re fine, don’t worry about us,”

Striker just hugged his family Blitz purred and was thankful that Striker came to save them than again, he knew Striker and knew that his mate would always be there to protect him, their teenage children, and their unborn baby.

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A/N: So what do you guys think? remember if you have any Striker and Blitz Prompts send them my way ^^ I will be posting more as week goes by ^^ GoNEF out ^^ and remember Armys to stream butter !!!

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[talesmaniac89]

Choices - The Beginning

Pairing: Dean x Reader OR Sam x Reader

Summary: Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where your choices determine the outcome.  You go on a hunt with the two Winchester brothers, one of whom you love. You decide who your Winchester is and what happens along the way. Each part is a fully independently written section and no parts are copies of others, so the story can be read a full 8 different ways with 15 parts in total and 8 endings!

Total word count: 45k+ words (over 15 parts)

Triggers: Dark, torture, reader death, angst, loss, pain, blood, serious injuries, heartbreak, implied possible major character death, fear of abandonment, loneliness, hostage situation, gore (series levels blood, torture and fatal injuries)

Triggers depend on your choices, so if you are easily upset by any of the above please proceed with caution.

[Your Story Starts Here] - You’ll be asked to make your first choice at the bottom of this chapter.

Y/N = Your Name

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“(Y/N)! Get a move on!” 

Dean’s deep voice echoed down the hallway just as you shouldered your duffle bag with a roll of your eyes. It hadn't even been 10 minutes since the call for help had come in. If it wasn’t for the fact that you’d been busy cleaning your guns when the call came, you would’ve already been out there in the library with them, ready to go. It wasn’t as if you’d been standing around fussing over which ratty t-shirt to pack for an hour.

“On my way!” You shouted back, grimacing as the heightened volume easily erased the annoyance you’d wanted to subtly lace each word with. Throwing another quick look around your room in the Men of Letters bunker you sighed at the mess. 

T-shirts and jeans were everywhere, as you’d pulled out everything to quickly stuff a few items in your overnight bag just in case the hunt took longer than planned. Not to mention the cleaning supplies you’d left abandoned on the floor from where you’d been sitting cross-legged polishing your favourite revolver.

It would all have to wait till you got back. Even though you knew you’d regret it once you made it back, bruised and stiff from the fight and the subsequent ride back in the Impala. Having to clean your room before you could fall into your bed feeling sorry for your aching bones was never fun. 

Yet, sticking to a decision you knew you’d come to regret; you got a move on before Dean could call out for you again. Swiping up your phone, you hurried out into the hallway and nearly ran straight into Sam as he came barrelling out of his own room. 

“Dean?” He asked, his hazel eyes meeting yours with a raised eyebrow a clear sign that your annoyance at being rushed was showing on your features. Though it didn’t matter, since the youngest Winchester clearly shared your irritation as he threw you a glance, underscored by an eye roll that put yours to shame.

“Yeah… Dean,” You said with a sigh as you lifted the straps of the duffle bag off of your shoulder. Attempting to bring some blood flow back into your arm from the heavy load of guns, knives, holy water and other goodies. As well as the clothes thrown in for good measure. 

“Let’s not keep our oh so righteous leader waiting then. C’mon (Y/N),” Sam smirked, teasing a small smile out of you as well. Before quickly reaching down and effortlessly snatching your duffle bag from your hands and hurrying down the hallway. If it wasn’t for your relief of having the bag off of your shoulders you would have stopped him. Reminded him that you could easily kick his ass if you went one on one. 

But, you knew that there were no hidden meanings in Sam’s gesture. He was just trying to be helpful.

You’d realised quite quickly after getting to know him that one of the things the youngest Winchester feared more than anything else was being abandoned; seen as useless or a burden and left standing in the dust. The shadows of his childhood fears were still clinging to him, little tendrils that he’d never managed to shake. Old fears from a youth spent in constant worry that his father would just drop him off somewhere and drive off without ever coming back. That, coupled with the many lost friends, lovers and hunters that had left him, willingly or unwillingly, made him try twice as hard at being of use to those he loved, every step of the way. From small kind gestures, like carrying your bag, to willingly offering himself up as a sacrifice to the big baddies of the world, in hopes of rescuing Dean, Cas, and now you.

Rolling your shoulders to shake off the rest of the strain from the bag, you pocketed your phone before hurrying after Sam down the hallway. No point in being grumpy when there were bad guys to gank. And neither of the two men in your life deserved your grumbled dissatisfaction. Both the bag and Dean’s insistence of getting on the road as fast as possible were just their own little ways of showing they cared. 

Sam was just trying to be helpful and Dean was always worried about losing another civilian by being just a second too late. And you loved them both for it. After all, one was your best friend in the whole world, while the other already secretly had your heart. Though you’d never found the courage to tell him you slipped it into his hands when he wasn’t looking. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean’s voice echoed down the hallway, pulling you out of your thoughts and back into your grumbled exasperation aimed at the oldest hunter. Ok… So maybe you’d allow yourself to be a tiny big grumpy until there were baddies in front of you to take it out on.

“I said I’m on my way!” You called back in a huff. Casting a quick glance at your closed bedroom door before quickly running to join the boys. Hopefully the bruises yet to come from the hunt wouldn’t make you regret your decision to leave the mess behind.

---

“So where are we headed, exactly?” You asked after about an hour’s drive and a quick case briefing from Dean. Leaning between the seats from the backseat of the Impala in a way that had Sam throwing worried glances your way for your lax seat-belt etiquette. 

“There’s a farmhouse, just 40 clicks away now, shouldn’t take long,” Dean’s voice had taken on that steely hardness it got whenever things got serious. And though the case was nothing out of the ordinary for the Winchesters and you, there had already been two reported deaths.

Which also meant that Dean had already added their names and faces to his list of sins to carry. People he could have saved if he could have somehow seen into the future. The oldest Winchester always etched the names of every lost soul into his big heart, burying them there among the many ‘should haves’ and ‘what ifs’ that weighed his broad shoulders down. He was a good leader, and a great hunter, but sometimes he cared a little too deeply. Leaving him hurt no matter how well a hunt went.

“... And put on your seatbelt (Y/N),” 

“Yeah, yeah,” 

… And sometimes he treated you like a little kid. The thought teased a wry sigh out of you. Quickly reaching out, you turned up the volume of the Led Zeppelin song that was playing, a small act of rebellion, before leaning back in your seat. Smiling innocently as Dean’s green eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror, his attempt at exasperation softened by the way his eyes crinkled in a smile. 

No matter how hard as steel the hunter tried to act, he always had a soft spot for Sam and you. To Dean, his feelings were cracks in his armour. They were the blind spots his father had told him about when teaching him to ‘always watch his back’. Yet, the man was more deserving of a family, of love, than anyone else you knew. And so, Sammy and you watched his back instead. Where he watched yours. Both of you determined for the older hunter to see you as strengths, not weaknesses.

Soldiers, shoulder by shoulder.

And, though Dean would constantly complain... You knew he was secretly happy the two of you stuck around; silently terrified of the loneliness he always tried to force onto himself by pushing others away. No matter how loudly his father’s words echoed in his mind and tried to tell him he was leaving himself vulnerable.

Letting Black Dog be your soundtrack, you watched the two most important people in your world from the backseat of the Impala. The Winchester brothers; both carrying scars from the family business they’d fallen into after their mother’s death. Each fearing abandonment and hurt in their own bruised and broken way. Both forced to give up any dream of apple pie to make the world a better place. Children turned soldiers turned martyrs, shaped into a sacrifice by a world that turned a blind eye to their suffering. Which was why you had promised yourself that you would try your damndest to give them a home, and that you would never run away from your life with them. 

Even if a certain hunter sometimes made that a hard promise to keep, as every friendly jab broke your heart at the clearly unrequited love you harboured. 

You sighed internally as you cast a careful glance in the direction of the man you’d come to love as more than just a hunting buddy or a friend, more than anything really, over the last year and a half of hunting with him. He’d probably be heartbroken to know he was hurting you, which was why you could never tell him how you felt. How your heart and body reacted, as if by reflex, whenever he was around.

Anything he did, from the smallest smile to the feel of his eyes on you, set your body on fire. In a manner not so different to what Robert Plant was promising he’d do to you as Black Dog blared over the Impala’s speaker system. And fuck if you didn’t want to echo the great artist himself and ask the man in front of you to do some not so innocent things to you whenever your eyes strayed to lips that you’d rather have on you than rambling on as they currently were about the case.

“Right… So, to make sure we’re ready…” 

---

Make your choice below to move the story along:

The man you love is speaking - who is he?

[Dean Winchester] or [Sam Winchester]

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Tags:

Dean Winchester Stories: @ria132love​ @woodworthti666​ @defenderrosetyler​  @akshi8278​

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons​ @winchest09​ @hobby27​  @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sea040561​ 

Choices Tags: @deanwinchesterswitch​  @maddiepants​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @foxyjwls007​ @mandalou29​ @tiki-tay​ @inked-poet​ @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid​ @rhysmybaby​ @heyyy-hey-babyyy​ @mellilla-rose​ @queenoftheunderdark​ @imaginationisgrowth​​ @almostelegantfire​ @alwaysdreamingforthebest​​ @mydelusionalworld-7​​ @fatalcrossbow​​ @backseat-of-deans-67chevy​​ @wearesuchstuff1​​ @amotleyworld​​ @impala-20​​ @sandlee44​​ @ksgeekgirl​​ @cheesewaster​​ @aeo10fan​​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​​ @idabbleincrazy​​  @writingthingsisdifficult​​ @ellewritesfix05​​ @justanotherwinchester​​ @starks-hero​​ @storiesfromtheimpala​​ @iluvsumbucky​​ @ellen-reincarnated1967​​ @katehuntington​​​  

Tags didn’t work for the following names: @lottieellz101  @lovedrarrypizzasleep   @katherineisagubler  @m2ello   @guesswhosback129  @deepsleepnat    I’ve sent you a message to notify you instead!   @ireallyhaveaproblem unfortunately I can’t send you a message either.

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[darthkruge]

Bellamy Blake Imagine ~ Reunited

Summary: (request) You were dating Bellamy up in the Ark and haven’t seen each other since you got locked up. Now that you’re back on the ground, you finally reunite.

Words: 1820

Warnings: fluff, a bit of angst, some language

a/n: I absolutely loved writing this. Thank you so much for requesting! I hope this is something like what you had in mind  <3 

~ Italics symbolize flashbacks ~

You sigh as you wake up in your cell. Another fucking day of this torture. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you see the tear-stains on your cheeks and your matted hair. Ever since you got locked up all those months ago, you haven’t been sleeping. It was so fucking stupid. All you wanted was some extra medicine for your mother. She’d been sick for a while and the rations were spread too thin and she works so hard to help you, you thought you’d get away with it. But you tripped the alarm on your way out of med bay and the guards got to you before you even had a chance to say goodbye to her. Or him. Him. 

Bellamy arrived at your door as you sat in the corner, reading one of the mythology stories he lent you. You immediately jumped up and ran into his arms. He chuckled, catching you against him as you wound your arms around each other. 

“How was your shift?” You ask, knowing how hard he works as a guard. 

“It was alright. I’m tired, though. They’ve been riding my ass lately, something about increasing security protocols. I don’t know.” He sighs, frustrated. You frown. You hate the pressure they put on him. You know he’s reliable and takes his job seriously, but that doesn’t mean they need to put all the responsibility on him. 

He sees you upset and his gaze softens. He sighs gently. “I missed you, beautiful.”

Ever since you were locked away, you hoped one day he would show up at your cell. He hadn’t, but not for a lack of trying. You knew that he tried, every day to get to you, just to see you again and make sure you were okay. But the Ark had him on watch, afraid he would do something stupid like try and break you out. So they monitored him constantly. You were glad he at least had the sense to listen. The last thing you could bear is something happening to Bellamy. 

“Holy shit, Y/N” 

You gently bunched your fingers in the dress you were wearing. It was the only one you had and you weren’t used to wearing it. Nice clothing was such a luxury, you were amazed you had saved enough to even buy this semi-clean, hole-ridden one.

You looked down at yourself and fidgeted with your hands anxiously. “That bad?” You ask, cheeks heating up

“Oh, fuck, no! Babe, you look incredible. I mean, you always look incredible. But tonight you look really, really incredible.” Bellany was rambling. He hated that you didn’t see yourself the way he saw you and spent everyday helping you with your confidence. 

You finally look up at him and smile, starting to believe his words. “Thank you, Bell” You whisper softly as he comes up next to you, gently grabbing your hands in his and pressing a gentle kiss to them.

The hoard of guards took you out of your thoughts. Okay, what the fuck is going on? You only saw one guard a day and he brought you food twice, that was it. There were never five guards at once, barreling toward each cell. They break through your door, running toward you and harshly grabbing your arms. You frantically look at them, hoping Bellamy is one of them, but quickly realize he isn’t. 

“What the fuck? What are you doing? Where are you taking me?!” You yell frantically, flailing and kicking as they drag you out of your cell. What if they’re going to float me? They might be overpopulated and need to get rid of the juveniles in the SkyBox. It wouldn’t be too far of a reach. Oh shit, what if something happened to my mom? Is that why they’re taking me out??

Eventually they bring you to a strange-looking ladder, leading up to who knows where. They harshly push you up, as more and more prisoners are filing in behind you. Getting lost in the crowd, you have no choice but to climb up and find yourself on a ship. You are pushed toward an empty seat and sit down, instinctively strapping yourself in. You try and calm your breathing, having no idea what’s about to happen to you. Looking around, you recognize some of your old classmates and others who were in the Sky Box with you. It gives you a small piece of comfort that they all seem as confused as you are. 

You’re jolted from your seat as the ship takes off and realize you’re falling. You hear whispers and realize that holy shit, they’re sending you to the ground.

You hit the ground less-than-graciously and look down at the bracelet those guards must have strapped on you when they pulled you from your cell. Still confused, you move to stand up, your legs still shaky and breathing uneven from the complete stress of the day. You think about your mother and Bellamy, the two most important people in your life who you will probably never see again. You feel the tears rising up and fight to keep them at bay. This is now about survival and you won’t make it if you spend every day living in the past. 

You almost pass out when you hear that voice. “If the air’s toxic we’re all dead anyway,” Someone says. And that voice could only belong to him. It could only ever be Bellamy’s. But how the hell is this even possible? He’s not here, he wasn’t in the skybox. Fuck your brain for playing tricks on you. You know you’ve been thinking about him constantly, but a hallucination is just plain cruel. 

The doors open and everyone runs outside. They yell and scream, breathing in the air as they discover they survived. You walk out, hoping the air will clear your head, but you’re still having trouble. Because it can’t be him. Right?

Regardless, you need to see for yourself. You hastily push through the crowd and your knees almost give out when you see him. Your hand goes up to your mouth, eyes filling with tears as the raw emotion of seeing the love of your life for the first time in months hits you. He catches your eye and his face pales. He blinks, unsure if you’re real. 

You run to him faster than you’ve ever moved before. You don’t care if you’re pushing someone over. You don’t care if you take up all the oxygen in the world. You don’t care if you die in two minutes, so long as you can touch him one more time. You don’t care about anything else but him, him, him. 

You collide with his chest and jump up, legs wrapping around his strong frame. You bury your face in his neck, hot tears sliding down your face. His hands are grabbing your arms, your back, your hair as he feels you and realizes you’re really here. You pull back and so does he, breathless smiles and tears running down both your faces. His arms are now under your thighs, supporting you.

“I thought I would never see you again” You whisper, crying harder.

“Princess, you could never get rid of me that easy” He whispers back, pulling you closer than you previously thought was humanly possible.

He gently sets you down and you collapse into his chest, your head spinning. 

“Fuck, I missed you” You say. 

“I missed you too. God, I missed you. I tried to get to you, I promise I tried. I’m so sorry. They took you away and I didn’t know and I tried. Every day, every night, every second I wasn’t with Octavia or my mother I was looking for you. Even when I was with them, you were always with me. I- I should have been faster, I should have protected you. Y/N, please, I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head quickly, “Bell, don’t blame yourself. Please, don’t do that to yourself. It was my choice to take that medicine, not yours. And I know you tried. Never for a second did I doubt you. And you were with me too. I couldn’t have made it through without keeping the hope alive that I would see you again. But then they took me and I thought I was going to die and I wasn’t going to say goodbye without telling you I loved you one more time.” Your voice breaks, the emotion overtaking you.

Bellamy’s heart shatters. He’s always hated seeing you cry, seeing the pain you’re going through. All he ever wanted to do was make it better. “Hey, hey, hey. Baby, it’s okay now. I’m here and you’re here and we’re okay. Y/N we're on Earth and we’re alive. That’s pretty fucking incredible”

“Leave it to us, huh?” You say, laughing gently.

He smiles and kisses you, deep and strong. Once again, the world fades and it’s just the two of you. You breathe into each other and pour everything into the kiss. All the feelings of doubt, pain, hurt, love, hope, happiness, and relief of the last months are desperately conveyed into this one, single embrace. 

You pull away and look at him, worried. 

He looks at you quizzically. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, God, nothing. I have everything I could possibly want. But it’s just hitting me. Bell, what are we going to do? We’re just a bunch of kids, criminals, on Earth. There’s no society, no rules, no food, no shelter, no water. How are we going to survive?” You say, brain scrambling at about a million thoughts a second.

He places his hands on your shoulders, comforting, but firm. Whenever you started to fall into an overthinking spiral, Bellamy grounded you. 

“Hey, hey. Breathe with me. It will be okay. We’ll figure it out, it’s what we’ve always done. Y/N, you’re brilliant. I’m sure you’ll come up with wonderful ideas to help us. You always do. And we have survival instincts. It may not look like it now, but I believe in this group. We’re going to need each other to survive and I think they’ll realize that.”

You look at him, feeling slightly better. He always knows what to say to put your mind at ease. You smile, realizing that since you found each other you haven’t kept your hands off each other. Literally. Ever since you ran to him that one time, you’ve been touching. You look at his hands which have now traveled to your arms as he gently caresses them. You softly press your hands to his face, cupping his cheeks as you look at him. 

“You are going to be a brilliant leader”

“And I will have the most amazing person in the world right next to me.”

“Obviously. I’m not letting you get all the glory, Blake.”

“I would expect nothing less, L/N.”

--

@sgarrett49​ 

[elsinore-rose]

@jadesabre301​ also requested the five things fic, so here’s the second part!

Jester hates Caleb’s ribcage. 

Healing battlefield injuries is complicated. It’s not that the spell itself is complex — it’s the easiest thing in the world to whisper a prayer to the Traveler, to feel his power pulse through her holy symbol and then out through her hands — but it takes a lot out of her, and sometimes that energy, that glow of life, is hard to control. She’s still learning how to channel and harness it, figuring out how far to push with a broken bone, how deep to reach for a damaged organ, how tight to pull as she knits up a bloody wound. 

So it really doesn’t help that some people’s bodies have parts that just don’t cooperate. Fjord’s muscles always fight back against the magic, twitching and spasming while Jester tries to match up tendon and fiber and joint. And there’s something about Beau’s stomach that reacts violently with the positive energy and always has her throwing up ten minutes after she’s been healed. But Caleb’s ribcage is the worst. 

“Fucking...stubborn...fuckers...” Jester mutters through gritted teeth as she places her hands once more on Caleb’s bare chest and casts yet another Cure Wounds spell. This is the third one and he’s still coughing up blood. “Cayleb, you need to tell your ribs to behave.”

“I will pass the message along,” replies Caleb weakly. He’s got himself propped up on one elbow in the mud, trying to get a better view of the scene as Jester works on healing him. The rest of their small family is nearby, recovering from the fight, catching their breath or picking through demon corpses looking for stuff to loot. Caleb is the only person still actually wounded, and it’s because of his fucking ribcage. 

“It always does this.” Jester concentrates on the flow of magic, willing it to stitch together marrow and bone, to mend the ragged rips torn into Caleb’s lungs. She can feel the resistance. It’s like his body resents her touch, like it doesn’t want to be healed. “We need to get you some better armor or something so you don’t take as many hits to the torso.”

“That would be nice,” he gasps as one rib snaps back into alignment. 

Jester sits back on her knees. She exhausted and probably looks just as bad as Caleb does right now, covered in blood and mud and demon ichor. At least the fight is over. She’s so used to trying to keep people alive in the middle of things, to the frantic rush of prayer and heal and dodge and prayer and heal and pain. But it’s all over now. She has time. And if Caleb needs a fourth Cure Wounds, then that’s what Caleb will get. 

He’s sitting up now, finally, and spits one last mouthful of blood out onto the ground. “Danke,” he murmurs to Jester. “I can walk now.”

That’s not good enough. “No, sit down,” Jester insists before Caleb can move to stand. She grabs his arm as gently as she can. “You’re still hurt. Let me cast it again — ”

“Jester, look at yourself.” With one hand Caleb reaches out and gently cups the side of her head, his thumb grazing across her temple, and when he pulls back his palm and fingers are red. “You are bleeding.”

“Oh.” Now that he mentions it...yes, her head hurts, a dull but deep sting, the echo of a sword’s bite just an inch too far to the left. She hadn’t even noticed. “Shit.”

Concern and fondness are mingled in Caleb’s tired eyes. “Why don’t you spend a little of that magic on yourself, hmm?”

“I don’t have much left…” Jester eyes Caleb’s chest again, studies the dark bruises forming along his side where the warhammer crushed him. “And you’re still bleeding inside. That’s more dangerous, Cayleb, this is just a scratch.”

He doesn’t argue, which surprises her. Instead he just looks at her, and it’s like they’re alone on this battlefield together, like everyone else has disappeared. 

“I wish I could heal you,” he murmurs. 

Warmth floods Jester’s heart. “You do, in your own way,” she replies softly. “All the time.”

Caleb smiles a little. “I mean properly.” He shifts a little, moving closer, and winces at the pain it causes him. “I don’t like to always...take. I wish I could give.”

“Then give me this.” Jester ignores the throbbing in her temple, the faint tickle of blood in her hair. “Healing you. Getting to see someone I care about get better.” She raises a playful eyebrow. “Getting to see you shirtless.”

Caleb laughs, and then immediately groans. 

“Getting to see you laugh without it hurting, Cayleb,” Jester adds, an ache building behind her sternum even though she’s smiling. “Come on. Give me that.”

He holds her gaze for a long moment, before finally whispering, “Okay.”

It’s funny, Jester thinks as she pours another Cure Wounds into Caleb’s body, the way he doesn’t really understand what a gift it is. What a relief it is to be able to heal. What a pleasure it is to see someone whole, walking around alive and well, because of her hands. Caleb seems to feel like he owes her a debt, like each spell she casts is another entry in a ledger somewhere, written in red, a tally of blood pulled from Jester’s own veins. 

I wish I could heal you, she thinks, her palms flat against his skin, fingers trembling. I mean properly. It’s not his ribcage that troubles her, not really, it’s not his body at all. It’s that deeper pain that she can’t touch, not with all her magic. 

Not yet anyway. She grits her teeth again, and channels the spell, and pushes.