#siren extract

[dreadark]

the amount of inspect element i use on a daily basis

[nettlestingsoup]

instead of working on anything tonight i'm rereading an OT9 au i started to write back in 2018/19 and considering whether to rework it as a horror/romance minchan...

[satoruxx]

SWEET SNACKS.

✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader | 2.3k words

✧ SUMMARY: tooth rotting fluff, meet cute, battles with inanimate objects, reader's got exams bc i have exams, satoru's whipped af (as usual), sorry i love writing him as a simp, reader is also whipped bc this is gojo satoru, bonding over snacks !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: if you saw me tryna post this yesterday no you didn’t. this was supposed to be a quick drabble oops. but it's finals week so i'm offering this piece of fluff to maintain sanity and gush over the meet cute i will never have. if y’all are also dealing with finals, i'm wishing you the best !!

satoru strolls down the bustling streets with a quiet hum, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets to keep them away from the bite of the cold breeze. his boots crunch against the thin layer of melting ice that has formed overnight, now warming under the cold afternoon sun that coyly hides behind gray clouds.

honestly, he wasn't the biggest fan of weather like this, and he wouldn't have stepped out on any other day. but one meeting with the higher ups had his mood souring, and shoko had suggested he take a walk, maybe grab something to eat.

he knew better than to argue with her, especially since she could somehow read him better than most people could—scary.

so here he was, trudging down the streets of tokyo with his hat pulled over his ears, cheeks pink from the frosty air as it dances across his skin. despite the weather, satoru thinks there's something oddly peaceful about the city, the quiet chatter and sounds of boots scuffing against pavement as he turns a corner to head to the nearby vending machines he's frequented so many times.

the peace is broken by an annoyed grunt, and satoru looks up.

"are you serious?" another irritated groan. "of all the days…"

he takes in the scene with interest.

even with all the anger that he's not quite understanding, he thinks you're so undeniably pretty—puffy jacket hugging your body and the warm scarf resting around your neck. your brows are furrowed, exasperation tugging your features into expressions that shouldn't look so endearing.

you groan again, slamming your curled fist against the glass of the vending machine—frustration ticks at your brow.

and why wouldn't it?

nothing was going your way today. it had already started off badly, the atmosphere filled with gloom that made it impossible to want to leave bed. but you had to force yourself to miserably extract your body from the warm cocoon of blankets and pillows that urged you back with a siren's call—a promise of comfort that looked all too enticing.

and then, when you finally did manage to drag yourself to the library to sit down and study, nothing was sticking. you read through paragraphs over and over until your head was spinning, dizzy with information that wouldn't absorb, and that fact is nothing if not disheartening. the impending quickness with which your final exams were approaching made you feel even sicker, so you decided to take a twenty minute break to grab a drink from the nearby vending machines.

but of course, even that couldn't just work out.

satoru watches you stand in front of the machine with a glare, before you're shoving your weight against it, huffing as it remains in place and hoping that at least one of your efforts will prove to be fruitful. he's talking before he can help himself.

"hey, you need some help?"

you turn to face the owner of the voice, finding cerulean eyes behind black shades that so directly contrast the white of his snowy hair. he's tall—abnormally so as he peers down at you with curiosity and a bit of mirth.

you think you've never seen a man so handsome in your life.

then you remember he's asked you a question, and you attempt to swallow down the unnecessary nerves that have taken root in the pit of your stomach. "oh, my uh…my drink got stuck," you reply somewhat lamely, cheeks heating up under his gaze as you think about how utterly ridiculous you must've looked to passersby.

satoru's eyes travel from your face to the machine, noticing the way your drink of choice is stuck in a frozen free fall against the glass and the rack. he sighs in exasperation. "tried hitting it?" he asks, walking closer to stand next to you and take a closer look, even though he knows the answer already.

you're not sure what it is, but this man exudes a certain energy—confidence that leaks through his very skin. it makes you feel like you have no right to be standing this close to him, but all he does is smile at you patiently, waiting for an answer.

so you nod, brows ticking again as the dull throbbing in your fist reminds you of how you had lost the battle with the greedy machine. "yeah, i've been hitting it for the last ten minutes. didn't budge," you sigh, checking your phone to see that there are only a little over five minutes remaining for your quick break. "what a waste of time and money."

satoru watches you shrug helplessly, smiling up at him. "oh well—"

he takes two long strides until he stands right in front of the machine, grips the edges, and shakes it hard.

satoru can feel you gape at him, at the unfiltered display of strength, and the unbothered expression on his face that tells you it didn't faze him. you hadn't been able to move the machine even an inch.

his powerful movements earn you a tell tale thunk, and your heart leaps in excitement as he bends down to push his hand through the slot and pull out your drink. he returns to his full height, an easy smile on his face as he turns around and hands it to you.

"thank you." your voice comes out breathless, a weird kind of excitement thrumming through your veins because it feels like you aren't supposed to know this man.

satoru's smile stretches further when your fingers graze his, taking the drink and popping it open eagerly. he watches you take a sip, oddly pleased with himself at the sheer joy on your face. he doesn't quite understand why this drink looks like it's made your day, but he doesn't ask because you look so sweet drinking it.

"how did you do that anyway?" you ask after you drink a little, curiosity so obvious in your tone. "i tried so hard to move it and it didn't budge at all."

satoru smothers a smile, fighting back the urge to say something stupid. instead he grins, cheeks warming a little under your eager stare. "guess i'm just strong."

you make a face, raising a brow with a playfully disbelieving expression as you cross your arms—to which satoru just laughs. "what's your name?" he asks.

you purse your lips, hiding a smile as you tuck your nose behind your scarf. you give him your name, almost shyly, and satoru tests it on his tongue. he decides he likes the flow, cocking his head as he replies with his own.

"satoru."

for once, the pressure of his last name doesn't permeate the air, and he's all too grateful for it. he turns around to approach the machine again, and he can feel your somewhat confused gaze on his back.

you watch as he stands there for a good minute, his back to you as he ponders the choices in the vending machine like they'll lead to life or death. then he shoves in a bill and clicks a few buttons, and within a couple of seconds, you hear the thud of two things falling.

he remains facing away from you for a few more seconds and then turns around, and you see that he's bought a chocolate bar and the same drink that you have in your hands. you raise a brow.

"well you did almost just lose your life trying to fight a vending machine for it," he says, shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly. "figured it'd be good to try."

you sputter over your words, embarrassment crawling up your neck, but satoru laughs good-naturedly. his eyes shine with mirth as his shoulders relax. "i'm kidding." he stresses, smiling into the collar of his jacket. "but it does look good so…"

he opens the drink and takes a sip, eyes squeezing shut dramatically as he hums at the sweet flavors washing over his tongue. you suddenly feel like getting revenge for his unfiltered teasing.

"well?" you hum cheekily, taking a sip of your own and raising a playful brow. "taste good?"

satoru laughs—a full, pristine sound that makes him throw his head back. "yeah," he agrees easily, feeling oddly fond of the way your voice curls around your words. "it's sweet, i like it. you've got great taste."

somehow the words of this man you've met not five minutes ago cause the muscles of your heart to trip over themselves. you watch him peel open the candy bar, a brand that's unfamiliar to you.

"what'd you get?" you ask, unsure of where the confidence to speak up is coming from. a man like satoru—so unflinchingly ethereal—would normally have your lips zipping and throat muted.

he holds up the bar with a grin. "my favorite."

there's a pause, followed by your sheepish smile, and satoru gapes at you, cerulean widening so clearly behind a backdrop of white. he takes in your innocently confused expression and his ribcage shakes with thuds. "what, you've never tried it?!"

before you can even shake your head no, he's breaking off a piece and handing it to you.

"no, oh my goodness, it's yours—"

"take it." he pushes his hand closer to you, eyes staring imploringly, and you sigh, reaching up to take the piece from between his fingers. a graze of skin—he's warm.

"thank you." you slip the piece past your lips, not at all surprised by its sweetness and yet a little taken aback by its underlying comfort—a rush of warmth.

"good." you're nodding, smiling between chews as satoru's stomach flips. "really good."

he chuckles, all too triumphant for something so menial. "told ya."

you laugh, a quiet subdued sound that satoru wishes he could hear more of. "thanks for getting my drink out," you say. "i really needed it today."

"oh yeah?" he finds himself asking. "how come?"

you sigh, smile dropping as a bit of fatigue makes itself comfortable on your face. "ah well, i've got final exams this week. i've been studying like crazy. nothing's really sticking, and the closer i get to the exams, the more annoyed and stressed i get."

satoru hums, not envying you for a minute.

"so it kinda felt like a kick in the butt from the universe when the drink decided to not just…"

he laughs again, taking another piece of chocolate and chewing on it soundlessly. "i gotcha."

you grin, curling your fingers around each other to diffuse some warmth back into them. "yeah."

there's a silence that follows—not uncomfortable, not unwelcome. you take quiet sips of your drink, and satoru breaks off little pieces of the chocolate bar to chew on. his eyes linger on you, watching the way your lips curl around the bottle, the way your fingers rub against each other, the way the cold has settled into your nose and cheeks and made a home amongst your skin.

when you look up at him, he looks away, throat oddly parched. his fingers flex.

"here, the rest is for you," he says, pushing the half finished candy bar into your hands.

you shake your head immediately. "no way! you paid for it! besides isn't this your favorite snack?"

satoru shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets with a grin that looks too happy. "you liked it, didn't you?"

you nod, slowly, like you're confused at what he's getting at. "well then, enjoy the rest of it. i buy them all the time—i don't mind sharing this one."

you can't help the soft smile that graces your lips, looking up at him with an odd sense of gratitude and surprise—touched that someone could be so casually kind.

"then thank you," you laugh quietly, eyes fluttering against the gust of cool wind that tickles your skin. "i'll enjoy it."

satoru grins, uncharacteristically pleased—he won't ever admit it, but he's glad shoko told him to take a walk. he'll have to thank her when he gets back.

he clears his throat, offering you a small wave as he turns on his heel to head back to the school. "well then, see you around. good luck with your studies, yeah?"

you smile with a gentle nod, oddly rejuvenated after seeing bright blue eyes and snowy hair. "thank you."

and then he's disappeared into the crowds. you laugh to yourself quietly, looking down at your drink and the half-eaten candy bar nestled between your fingers. a part of you feels strangely forlorn, wishing that you had the guts or confidence to talk to him a little longer—ask a little more.

but you've never been good at that, so even just this small happiness you'll take in stride. you grin to yourself, shoving the drink into your bag and slinging it over your shoulders.

you begin walking back to the library, fingers breaking off pieces of the chocolate and savoring the sweetness on your tongue. somehow you didn't expect a man with such an imposing presence to enjoy simple sweet things like this, but that just makes you all the more fond of him.

by the time you've reached the entrance of the library, you're shoving the last piece of chocolate into your mouth, sighing as the doors of reality swing open once more. the meager slice of giddiness that enveloped your very being dissolves, and all the reminders of what's left to do come back to suffocate you.

you bite back a groan, about to throw the empty wrapper in the trash when something catches your eye. you double-take, peering down at it with wide eyes and rapidly heating skin. there are a set of numbers scrawled there, along with a haphazardly written message:

in case you need someone to fight another vending machine for you -satoru <3

[dicejpg]

You should have left a note - {Five Hargreeves x GN!Reader}

Synopsis: Five is ordered to kill his ex-commission partner. He doesn't want to.

Note: I made this really late at night. I would really appreciate requests for Five :)

(Not edited)

WORD COUNT: 1K

2nd POV:

Five peers down at the paper that bears your name, hands shaky. He was ordered by the Handler--just this morning--to terminate you for immediate extraction.

It’s been a year since you left Five since you left the Commission. He'd been rightfully frustrated since your abrupt departure. He didn't get a note, nor a goodbye. Sure, you two weren’t all that close as partners, but he at least deserved a warning, he thought.

He doesn't know how to feel about the idea of blowing your brains out with his M1935.

You’ve been gone for approximately a year, leaving no trace or hints as to where you may be. But, the Commission finally tracked you down to a small town in New Jersey, 1978.

When he arrives in front of your supposed living quarters, he is taken aback by the rundown apartment complex in front of him. A real shithole. Its bricks are chipped and sun-bleached, presumably from old age. Police sirens and gunshots are audible from a neighborhood away, giving away the unsafeness of the area.

It’s twelve o’ clock at night. Five quietly blinks up to your numbered room. If he remembers correctly from the paper, it's room 395. Third floor, second door to the left.

Your apartment is dark, gloomy. Five does not turn on the lights, not wanting to give away his existence. But, he assumes you’re not home anyways. Your job as a bartender at a rundown restaurant downtown would have you occupied for at least another hour.

He wonders through the confined living space, taking note of a few books scattered on the coffee table, and an unmade bed. There's a small pile of dishes in the sink, a pot and two bowls. There are no picture frames, or wall decor. The room is barren with no personality at all.

Five would not even know that you lived here from the looks of the place.

It smells like you though, he unwillingly notices. He finds it oddly comforting nostalgic.

He’s in the middle of examining some scattered papers on the ground when he hears the jingling of keys outside the door. Along with your whistling.

Five blinks behind a window curtain in no time at all, blood pumping fast. You must have gotten off early.

Your humming becomes more prominent as you enter your living space. The sound of keys being thrown on the kitchen counter makes Five jolt, but he still goes unnoticed.

You make no move to turn on the lights, so Five risks a glance at you.

Your head is blocked by the freezer door, but he notices your disheveled work attire. Some black slacks and an untucked white button down shirt. Your apron hangs on a hook by the door.

When the freezer door is closed, he notices your face. It's the same as when he last saw you, but with sadder eyes and dark eye-bags. His heart sinks, he starts feeling uncharacteristically torn.

He watches you crack open a frozen dinner meal and place it in the microwave. You roll your sleeves up to your elbows while you wait for the food to heat up. Five always thought you had nice, toned forearms. He stares at them, at you.

His eyes are intense, observing as you lean against the counter, stretching and running your fingers through your hair. He feels his stomach knot.

Five was definitely the wrong person for this job. He readys his gun quietly.

You freeze at the almost imperceptible sound of a gun clicking, slowly turning your head in Five's direction. He doesn't see the way your eyebrows furrow because he's fully behind the curtain again.

The microwave beeps quietly, but you make no move to retrieve your dinner.

The sound of footsteps approaching Five's hiding spot makes sweat bead on his forehead. He debates letting himself be caught, but decides against it. Five blinks behind you, aiming his gun.

But you've already kicked the thing out of his hands, fully expecting his maneuver. You tackle him to the ground, gripping his wrists and pinning his legs with yours. Not before kicking the gun far away, under the couch.

"God, of course they sent you, Five." You breathe, glaring down at him in dismay. "The Handler's such a sadistic- I mean, sending my own partner to kill me? Is she kidding?" You ramble is distress, cursing your ex-employer.

Five gazes up at you, swallowing thickly. He fights thoughtlessly against your grasp, but tries nothing else to get loose. He does not want to kill you.

"Let go of me." He warns, feeling fuzzy and not knowing what else to say. His eyes never leave yours.

"Why don't you just blink away? You're fully capable of getting out of this." You accuse, getting close to his face. Your breath tickles his nose. It's minty.

Five hesitates, his eyes fluttering for a moment as he fails to regain his train of thought.

He remains quiet.

"You don't really want to kill me." Your grip on his wrists falters slightly when he doesn't object.

He softly pulls his wrists free, and you let him sit up. But you keep his legs pinned just in case. There is a strangely comfortable silence as you wait for Five to find the words.

"You should have just told me you were going to leave." Five whispers finally. His tone is unreadable. "Or at least left a note."

You look at him with a pained expression. "You're right. I should have." It's something you regretted for months after abandoning him. There is an intake of breath right before you add: "I missed uh- I miss you." You redden, not looking at him.

He exhales with a hidden smile. "Me too."

[myosotisa]

The trailer is dark, the park quiet as snow when you finally manage to drag yourself from the warmth of the blankets and the smell of Eddie that they encase you in. He'd slipped out of them 10 minutes earlier -- a kiss on the crown of your head and a sleepy mumble in your ear as he carefully extracted himself from your embrace. You'd been too close to sleep to hear what he'd told you in that low voice; you felt it in vibrations from where you were pressed to his chest more than you had heard it. So you went searching.

Padding down the hall in a pair of thick socks, boxers, and a sweatshirt (all belonging to Eddie), you navigate toward the soft, orange light diffusing across the linoleum beyond the wooden arch that cut off the bedroom and bathroom from the rest of the trailer. You could hear a slight scrape of plastic against metal and the baritone hum that came from your boyfriend, the sweetest siren's call that would guide you through even the darkest nights.

Eddie stands in the kitchen with his bare back to you. The light from above the stove, the only light in the entire place, filters out around him in a golden glow. His hair is down and messy from sleep, shoulders rising and falling in easy breaths, black sweatpants hung low on his hips, the feathery wings of black ink that span across his shoulder blades shifting as his arms adjust whatever he has on the burner.

He is always pretty, unfairly so, but there is something so absolutely striking about him like this. At night he's softer, calmer, warmer -- less sharp grins and more loving smiles, less restless adjusting and more relaxed lounging. His doe eyes are still big and brown as ever, but they blink slower, simmer deeper. And while you love both sides of Eddie, you treasure this one. The one only you get to see, the gentle side of him that rises with the moon and lives within the familiar walls of your home and within your arms. You so often find yourself thanking the universe for giving you this, giving you him. This is definitely one of those moments.

After taking several peaceful seconds to appreciate the view, you travel silently forward, unable to resist the urge to feel his skin on yours again. He jumps a bit in surprise when your cold fingers skate past his narrow waist, his body relaxing again by the time you wrap both arms around him and mold yourself to the planes of his back.

"What are you doing out of bed, sweet girl?" The softly spoken question comes out almost scolding, but the timber of his voice bleeds out warmth and comfort, a smile evident despite you being unable to see his face.

Lips pressed to his bare skin, eyes falling closed, you answer honestly and with a little bit of embarrassment. "Missed you, didn't know where you went."

His torso rumbles in a quiet laugh, his back widening against your chest as he intakes air. "I told you before I left."

"Didn't hear you, was too sleepy." He lets out an understanding hum as his non-dominant arm drapes across your own, his palm warm even through the thick fabric of your sweatshirt. "What're you making?"

"Had a craving for a grilled cheese. You want one?"

"Mmmmmmm, I do love cheese," you murmur, delighting as his skin erupts in goosebumps when you hum against him.

"And I do love you, sweet girl. So I think we might be able to work something out."

[joequiinn]

As We Combust | Emperor Geta x Priestess!reader

Summary: The Priestess is the only one who can ever tell Geta what to do...

Warnings & Tropes: SMUT, fem reader, both praise AND degradation kink, fingering, oral (fem receiving), sub!Geta, dom!reader, 3rd person pov, historically inaccurate rep of Roman priestesses

A/N: idk I frantically wrote this in an hour like I was possessed. The Priestess is a character I've been working on since the trailer dropped - she's meant to be a reader, though in this instance the 3rd person pov sorta suggests she's an oc maybe she'll become that idk. Something about awful, cruel Geta becoming a pathetic sub for a woman speaks to my soul, so we'll be seeing more of these two in the future~~

W/C: 1,162

!!! MINORS DNI !!!

A blaze so high it lights the night / Long fingernails dug in my skin

Yourself so wet invites me in / Our lust increased feeds desire

As we combust, yeah we on fire / I feel you shake so deep inside

Oh scream my name and squeeze me tight / I'll do anything to make you come

“Look at you, being so good for me.” The Priestess praised in a husky tone, rolling her hips in time with the feverish lapping of Geta’s tongue. She watched through hooded eyes, lips parted with heavy breath, while beneath her the Emperor sat atop his knees, mouth ravenous as he licked at her core. The rumble of his moan vibrated against her sensitive nerves, causing her toes to curl as she threw her head back, “Gods, just like that…”

Her fingers pulled roughly at his hair, nails scratching fiercly against his scalp. Another elicit groan sounded from the Emperor, his own pleasure rapidly mounting as the leg hiked over his shoulder began to quiver. As one hand squeezed the soft flesh of the Priestess’s thigh, his other bounced up and down his cock in jerky, aching motions. He was so close now, the beads of precum wetting his fingers each time he squeezed the bright red head of his cock.

But the Priestess wasn’t there yet, and he knew she’d be displeased should his climax arrive before hers.

Practically whining as he extracted his hand from his pulsing cock, Geta brought that same hand to her slick lips, teasing them momentarily, only to have his hair yanked in disapproval - the Priestess wasn’t one to play nice when teased.

“Behave.” She gasped out, rutting her hips with a stutter against his open, drooling mouth. The command drew more desperate sounds from the pathetic Emperor, who promptly did as he was told and inserted two fingers between her folds, curving them once he was knuckles deep. The sound of intense pleasure that escaped the Priestess was a beckoning siren’s song to his ears, a wanton encouragement to bring her to the cliff’s edge. He dexterously sucked her clit while slowly dragging his fingers in and out, in and out, relishing in the sweet taste and quaking thighs of the Priestess now at his mercy.

“Yes, yes--!” Her pitch increased as she gripped his shoulders, nails so sharp that they broke skin. Her hips rolled with more and more fervor, her chest rising and falling in rapid shudders as Geta’s greedy mouth sucked and licked and nipped at her clit. His fingers slid faster and rougher, practically drenched in the Priestess’s desire as his knuckles slapped against her skin again and again and again. His cock was throbbing, desperate for relief, but he knew better - he knew that the Priestess must come first.

His jaw nearly hurt as he kept lapping her up, but the Emperor dared not disrupt his pace - she was so close, and he needed to watch her come. The Priestess’s leg tightened on his shoulder, her pussy clenching around his fingers, and in his need to make her come absolutely undone, Geta slid one more finger between her drenched folds, causing her toes to curl in eager surprise.

“Fuck--!” Her hands roughly grabbed at his hair, tugging as if her life depended on it. Her voice was a sultry, low moan as she instructed, “Look at me.”

A sound of desperation escaped Geta upon hearing her command; he opened his deep brown eyes and tilted his head back just enough to meet the dangerous, lustful gaze of the Priestess. His tongue swirled her clit, watching hungrily as her lower lip quivered, practically drooling on herself as she rolled her hips against his mouth. Sweat glistened down her neck and chest, highlighting the dip of her collarbone, the curve of her breasts - just the sight of the Priestess alone was nearly enough to ruin him, nearly enough for Geta to spill all over his quaking thighs.

The hooking of his fingers at just the right angle finally sent the Priestess over the edge, her pussy clenching selfishly around him, her eyelids fluttering shut as her head shot back; sounds of utter ecstasy leapt from her dangerous, sultry lips, the seductive call daring to beckon the attention of the entire palace.

Geta’s other hand held tightly to her quivering thigh, realizing with a gasp that he was too close, his coil unwinding to the sound of the Priestess’s gasps. His jaw quaked against her center as he withdrew his soaking fingers, roughly clenching his cock in his hand as if he could somehow control himself. But it was too late for the Emperor, the pressure of his squeezing hand sending him to the brink.

As his warm seed spilled out and drenched his already soaking hand, he withdrew his mouth from the Priestess, a near flustered look in his eyes as he watched the cum drip from his fingers and onto the floor, his moans loud and uneven as his chest heaved deeply.

Still riding out her orgasm, the Priestess clung to Geta for balance, her body shaking and shuddering as she saw stars behind her eyes while coming back down to earth. She finally met the Emperor’s gaze, taking a moment to drink in his dark eyes, his full lips, his flushed face; she realized, then, that he was staring back at her in guilty desire.

The Priestess’s eyes slowly crawled from his face to his leaking cock, staring with both satisfaction and disapproval as she eyed the puddle of cum between his legs. As her tongue traced slowly along her lower lip, her sultry gaze returned to Geta’s face, causing him to practically shiver in anticipation, a breathless gasp leaving his mouth.

“Look at the mess you’ve made,” The Priestess scolded as she caught her breath, lowering her leg from where it had been resting atop his shoulder, “You know better.”

He nodded quickly, his hair sticky with sweat as he watched the Priestess as if hypnotized. She smiled wickedly, relishing in just how pathetic Geta was for her, and her alone. She delicately but firmly pressed two fingers beneath his chin, tilting his head back as she leaned down, the two of them almost nose-to-nose as she assessed him with a dangerous gleam in her eyes. Her teeth were like fangs as she grinned largely and cruelly, looking between his face, his cock, and his mess.

“Clean it up.” Her words were but a hot whisper across his lips, causing the Emperor to shudder as she shoved his face back. She turned to walk from him, her strut slow and sultry as Geta stared at the shiny peach of her ass. She lowered herself into a chair, her stare commanding as ever as she raised a cruel brow, once more looking between him and the puddle of cum he let spill on the floor. She clicked her tongue in reprimand, “Oh, don’t start behaving poorly now. Do as you’re told.”

With a gulp, Geta slowly lowered to the floor, tongue hanging hungrily from between his lips as he dared not break eye contact with the Priestess. Her mouth gaped in intense desire, her eyes a dangerous pair of daggers piercing into his own, “See, you're so, so good for me…”

[synamartia]

[ Featured Artwork © lustylita ] ❀ [ Featured Divider © cafekitsune ]

[ Story © synamartia ] ❀ [ Text Banner created via Text Studio ]

Content Warnings: Alastor x Reader ; Afab!Reader ; No pronouns or Y/N used ; Use of gendered pet names like "good/dirty girl" ; Explicit / MDNI / 18+ ; Sexual situations ; Sex pollen tripe (Love Potion) ; Hematolagnia (blood play) ; Biting ; Dom!Alastor ; Face-sitting ; Dirty talk ; Unprotected sex ; Vaginal penetration ; P in V sex ; Creampie ; Overstimulation ; Alastor is his own CW ; If I missed any, let me know! Word Count: 6,542 Summoning: @hazelfoureyes ; @minkdelovely ; @sugoi-writes ; @fraugwinska ; @lustylita ; @eris-norwega ; @rapturenyx ; @sirens-and-moonflowers ; @swagkittybear ; @l3rittany ; @chibistar45 ; @aceumbrellaheroes ; @pearly-sadness ; @mydickisjuicy ; @daisy-figmund ; @lunaorlunareclipse Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay on this one - we had a couple unexpected issues come up that cut into my editing opportunities ;A; Like Chapter Two, this one is a direct continuation of the previous chapter. I'm gonna try to make the next chapter the end of this particular scene, so we'll be getting into the plot soon! Get ready, 'cause it gets dark right out the gate! Also, I apologize ahead of time for the cut-off point - I know it's gonna leave some of ya'll with blue balls. But I'll make it up to you! I swear! Alastor's dialogue will be in bold red, thoughts in italics red, and Reader's will be in blue. If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list, let me know via ask/comment!

"Ah-! Fuck!"

You cried suddenly when he switched from kneading away at your breast to pinching your nipple, rolling the sensitive bud between his thumb and index finger. Your walls clenched tightly around his stiff cock at this, extracting a raspy whine from him. Alastor was making it damn near impossible to keep your eyes open, to focus on him. Every single thing he did, from the perpetual thrusting of his hips right down to the sounds that poured from his mouth had you close to creaming on his cock.

"Hm? You like that?" Alastor asked you, tone mocking as he parroted back your question regarding his ears. A jovial laugh echoed in yours when he saw your pout, your lip jutting forward as he leaned down closer to your chest, his thrusts diligent and relentless in their speed. It was amazing that the desk was still standing in spite of the rough pounding he was giving you. With one hand switching between massaging the spongy flesh of your breast to pinching and twisting its tip, Alastor's mouth attended to the other - teeth grazing the pebbled tissue, his lips wrapping around your erect nipple. Suckling gently, he began to flick his tongue over it a few times shortly before pulling away to place tender kisses to your heated, flushed skin. "Oh, my dear - you're so soft," he whispered, speaking more to himself than you, biting near your sternum hard enough to draw blood - sucking at the few droplets that trickled from the tiny wound seconds later.

Lapping at the small gashes in a soothing manner, he moaned into your skin as beads of the delectable red liquid coated his tongue. "So sweet," he mumbled against the malleable flesh. Alastor just knew your breasts would look positively radiant with bite marks, varying degrees of bruises and hickeys littering your skin - every single magnificent blemish a result of his ministrations. Knowing that he was the one to put them there had him twitching inside you, eager to make the images in his mind a reality.

"And all for me."

Alastor withdrew from your delectably beautiful breast, his lips popping loudly as the suction ceased. He took a moment to admire his work - the skin already beginning to darken where he had been suckling; his saliva that coated the hickey making it shine in the dim light; the red imprint of his hand and crescent shaped indentations of his nails where he unwittingly squeezed a little too hard; the way the surrounding area of your lacerated flesh where he bit you began to redden and swell. A sense of triumph and pride came over him, as he had been right - they did look absolutely radiant like this. It had him wondering what the rest of you would look like with similar markings; bite marks on the insides of your thighs and neck, scratches down your back made by his clawed hands, bruises littered across your chest and abdomen - his thrusts lost their rhythm at the thought of it all.

Soon after, Alastor was drawn from his imagination when he felt your hands in his hair again - only this time, your slender fingers were wrapped around the base of his antlers. How you were able to surprise him so easily, so often with such miniscule actions, he'd never know. "A-Ala- ...! Fuck, fuck, please- ...!" you choked out in between your gasping for air and loud sobs of ecstasy, your eyes fluttering as you fought against your own instincts, to keep them focused on his face. "Don't stop, don't stop, oh my god- ...! Oh fffuuu-!" you begged him, tears welling up in your eyes as you teetered right on the cusp of euphoria. A guttural moan from deep within his chest filled the air at the vice grip you had on both his antlers and his cock, nearly swallowed by the melodious sounds you were making and the steady slaps of skin on skin each time he slammed into you. His eyes shifted to radio dials as he watched the expressions you were making with exultation, basking in the marvelous rhapsodies you were singing for him.

Pressing his lips back against your breast, Alastor started to suck and bite in previously unmarked areas - determined to cover every inch of your silky skin. "Cum for me," he beckoned, control slipping from his fingers once again as he began to lose himself in the rapturous pleasure your body was providing. That was all you needed to hear - the sinful drag of his length within your dripping cunt finally pushing you over the edge, every muscle in your body contracting as the first waves of delicious gratification washed over you, swallowing you whole and claiming your senses. Alastor relished in the way your brows furrowed and your jaw dropped, a silent scream clinging to the back of your throat as you gave yourself over to the electrifying cascades. "Such a beautiful sight," he drawled, voice thick with lust and passion, the near deafening crackles and pops of static filling your ears - it was impossible that a more heavenly sight could exist, he thought.

If he could focus on anything else except the way you were squeezing him so tight, Alastor would be thinking of ways to save this moment, this beauty that you were oh-so-gracious enough to share with him. "... - sstor! A-Al-! Hoh- ohhh-! Mmmah-! Alasss- ...!" you couldn't form any coherent words, having been reduced to a blubbering mess as your walls clamed down on his erect member, the way they so greedily continued to suck him back in with each retraction of his hips, the near painful hold you had on him only serving to heighten the pleasure that accompanied it ten-fold.

"If you keep- ... Nnghh-! -keep squeezing me like that, darling-! Fuuhh-!" he tried to warn you, the futility of his words falling on deaf ears - he was too far gone, his words no longer mattered. Alastor had been so focused on coaxing another climax out of you that he failed to notice how close he was to his own, not until the suffocating grip you had on his cock was hurtling him down into the euphoric pits of bliss - forcing him to empty himself inside you for the second time. "Wait, wait- ...! Oh fuck, I'm-!" he cursed, unable to finish his sentence in time as his balls tightened and his mouth hung open, his breath hitching in his throat. He clenched his eyes shut and bowed his head, the sensations overwhelming him - your core dragging him down further and further with every pulse, every contraction of your muscles as he painted your walls white with his seed.

As you slowly came down from your high, seeing his reaction had you pouncing on the opportunity to give Alastor a little taste of his own medicine. You tightened your hold on his enlarged antlers, knuckles white as you pulled his head back and forced him to look up at you, a devious smirk dancing across your lips. "Eyes on me, dearest," you teased him, your tongue lingering on the last word as his body shook and shivered each time you pumped the velvety bones protruding from his skull - your hold pushing him straight into overstimulation with each stroke, every twist of your hands, your nimble fingers massaging gently over any branches you could reach.

Alastor stared up at you with hooded eyes, lips parted as he panted hard - his carefully curated mask of control and ambiguity faltering for a split second as he collapsed on top of you, his strength leaving his body. The small glimpse this gave you into his inner word had your smile softening into one of complete adoration, watching him rest his cheek on your breast, his smile exhausted and tranquil as he tried to level out his breathing.

Retracting your hands from the now shrinking bone, you laced your fingers into his disheveled crimson tresses, smoothing out the ruffled strands. "Good boy," you praised, letting the tips of your fingers stroke the backs of his hypersensitive ears, earning you a relaxed sigh as he nuzzled into your bosom. The two of you stayed like this for a few minutes - simply basking in the afterglow of your passionate acts and enjoying the silence that followed. It felt so surreal to you, being here with Alastor in such an intimate manner, unable to recall the last time you felt so peaceful, so safe in the arms of another person. If you could, you would have stopped time, if only to stay like this - in this moment for just a little while longer. You didn't want this feeling to disappear, absolutely terrified of what would come once it did.

'No, not now. I refuse to think about that - about him...'

Alastor broke his gaze first, closing his eyes and turning his head to place chaste kisses to your chest - and just like that, the mask had returned to its rightful place, barring you from the most vulnerable sanctuary of his inner world as the roiling waves of his release finally subsided, allowing him to take hold of the reins once more. A sigh of repose made its way past his lips as Alastor moved to stand up straight now, his hands wrapping around the back of your thighs. "My, my. Brazen little thing, aren't you?" his question rhetorical, his eyes drifting down your sweat covered figure as he pushed your legs further apart. He stared down at the place where your bodies were joined, pride swelling within his being while he admired the way he stretched you open.

Your walls clung to his shaft mercilessly, refusing to release their tight grip as he slowly retracted his hips until he'd pulled out of you entirely - sticky strings of his seen momentarily keeping you connected. "Fuck," Alastor groaned as he watched the viscous white fluid seep from your quivering hole and roll down your ass, a few beads dripping onto the carpeted floor beneath him, admiring the way your pussy clenched around nothing. With his left hand, he swiped at any drops he could catch and pushed it back inside with his index and middle fingers, pumping his digits slowly, eliciting a strangled whine out of you and causing your thigh to strain against his other hand. A haughty laugh erupted from his chest at your weak attempts to close your legs, removing his fingers from your core and bringing them up to your mouth.

"Open,"

Alastor commanded you, then pushed his fingers past your lips to press flat against your tongue. "So messy," he breathed out as you sucked his digits clean of your mixed fluids, not wanting a single drop to go to waste. Satisfied with your obedience, Alastor withdrew his fingers from your mouth a few moments later and cupped your cheek - brushing his calloused thumb over the remnants of your running mascara and eventually drifting back down to press against your lower lip. In that instance, his ever-present smile softened into one of serenity and contentment, drinking in this moment of complete ataraxy.

He could feel the effects of the Love Potion finally begin to drain from his body, being replaced with a sense of relief and... disappointment. 'Something's not right here,' Alastor realized, noticing that despite having successfully remedied his symptoms, he still very much so desired your company and affection. He rarely experienced emotions of a sexual nature outside his ruts, and he couldn't recall having ever felt romantic attraction to anyone in life or in death, so it was strange that he found himself wanting to drag this out as long as possible. But why? What about you was so different that had him betraying his preferences, yearning for your touch and longing to hear those sweet whispers over and over again until you couldn't speak?

Perhaps Love Potion was more than just a potent aphrodisiac and he simply underestimated the range of effects that spray could have on a person. He never had any reason to learn anything about it before tonight, viewing it strictly as another pointlessly annoying invention by those bandwagon riding hacks, so he was in the dark just as much as you. Or maybe his rut hit him early this time around. Whatever the case, Alastor refused to admit these were his own raw, unfiltered emotions and desires - it was too ridiculous, too comical a notion to be true. Him, the Radio Demon, the great and powerful Alastor, famous for his sadistic brutality, experiencing feelings as asinine and weak as romance? How utterly absurd!

... Unfortunately, the longer it went on, the more he was forced to acknowledge the horrendous possibility that dreadful mixture had only served as a catalyst to something much greater than a simple romp in the hay.

'This won't do,' Alastor thought, knowing he had to uproot these feelings of infatuation as soon as possible - before they grew beyond containment and become a threat of any sort. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was fully aware that it was a foolish decision, to not cut this off at the source immediately, but he couldn't help himself. The brilliance with which your eyes shined and the promises of bliss your body continued to make even now had him second guessing that course of action. But there was still a very real possibility, one much more likely that this was just a passing fancy brought on by the drug, and all he needed to do was get it - get you out of his system. 'Yes, that's all I need to do,' he told himself, deciding that he would indulge in these cravings - and you - for a little while longer.

Impulsively, Alastor leaned down again to give you a sweet kiss. His lips lingered on yours, one hand moving to curl around the back of your neck, the other finding your waist as he tugged you up into a sitting position. What started out as an innocent kiss soon turned more playful when he felt your teeth nipping and tugging on his lip, causing him to pull away with a light-hearted chuckle. "Quite the mischievous little minx, too," he said as he continued to smile down at you, a breathy giggle emerging from your throat in response to his statement. "There's the pot calling the kettle black," you mused, letting your hands rest on his forearms and leaning forward to press your head against his bare chest. "Hmm... I prefer the term 'cheeky monkey', but I suppose mischievous works just as well," he countered, lightly massaging the base of your scalp.

Silence filled the space between you as your exhaustion was quickly catching up, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. You had to stifle yet another yawn, something that did not go unnoticed by Alastor when he pulled you back gently by your hair to see your face better. "Tired? Would you like to stop?" he asked you, his grin widening when he saw the confusion on your face. Alastor looked down at the small space between your bodies, then to your face as a single brow rose - as if he was hinting for you to look down as well. "As enjoyable as that was, I don't think it was enough to rid my body of these pesky symptoms," he blamed that god-awful concoction, adamantly refusing to admit these desires were all his and nothing more. Following Alastor's suggestions, you looked down to see that he was once again fully erect, beads of precum leaking from his head to join with the remnants of your mixed essences. "Damn... What the hell did they put in that potion?" you asked jovially as you looked back up at him, a smile to match his own plastered across your face.

"I've not the slightest clue," Alastor laughed along with you at this predicament you've found yourselves in, glad that you both were now able to make light of the situation your mistake had caused. "But I will most definitely be having a little chat with our friend, Angel, about bringing such paraphernalia into this establishment come morning," he promised, his voice coming out as a growl as Angel's name rolled off his tongue. Alastor wholeheartedly blamed Angel for this chain of events - had he kept to the initial agreement when taking up residence at Hazbin Hotel, the drug never would have been anywhere near your naive self, and he wouldn't be tearing himself apart inside trying to figure out what it is he truly felt for you. Was it a fair judgement? Probably not, but it was of no concern to Alastor.

That was Charlie's job, not his.

"Uh-huh... And will this be a chat, chat, or should I stock up on tissues and ice cream before telling Charlie that her first guest is, ya know-" you ran your finger in a straight line across your neck as a way of saying 'dead'. Your question pulled him from his thoughts and Alastor blinked innocently. "Oh, heaven's no! I'm not going to kill him over something so frivolous as this!" he reassured you, waving a hand in the air to dismiss the idea. He had thought about it, sure - but it would bring more trouble than it was worth. He would never hear the end of it from Charlie and her pet; not to mention the numerous problems that would occur following his butchery of an owned soul, one belonging to a rival Overlord, and of high quality and value as Angel Dust. He could easily handle whatever the Vee's threw at him without breaking a sweat, but he'd rather not invite that kind of trouble to his doorstep just yet, not with the impending Extermination steadfastly approaching.

"He wouldn't die anyway, unless I used angelic steel. I'd rather save myself the headache he would give me after he puts himself back together."

Alastor had to hand it to Angel, though. He was mildly impressed by the resilience of his soul as well as his mind. When there was more than a fifty percent gap in the level of power, usually the owned soul would lose their sense of autonomy and become a mindless drone within the owner's ranks - but not him. Angel not only maintained his sentience after selling his soul, but he also still possessed the will to fight back too - and fight back, he did whenever Val's abuse stepped outside the parameters of their contract, a feat deserving of his praise. He had potential, that one. "Besides, it's far too entertaining to watch him annoy Husker. Poor fellow brings it on himself," he explained and waved away your concerns, soon turning his attention back to the growing ache within his loins.

"Okay, good. It's not really his fault, anyway," you mumbled as you thought of how you were going to get to Angel first - you had to warn him, at least. He may have brought Love Potion into the hotel, but you were the one ignorant enough to spray a previously unknown substance around one of the most feared demons Hell has ever known in recent memory. Angel already had one Overlord breathing down his neck, abusing him at every turn - it would eat you alive if you were the reason a second was added to the mixture. Drawing your attention back to him, Alastor lowered his hands to your hips and pulled you closer, pressing himself against you in an effort to alleviate some of his pain. "But I can think of a couple things that would be far more entertaining than a cat trying to swat away a spider," he purred, static popping loudly as he leaned down to steal another kiss from you, to which you happily returned.

The moment was fleeting as Alastor pulled back and reached behind you to the small vintage radio sitting near the corner of his desk. He pulled the knob to power it up and turned a few dials until smooth jazz began to play from its speakers. Although still mildly irked by your earlier actions - when you covered your mouth in an attempt to silence yourself - he remembered the embarrassment he saw in your eyes. Now that he was able think more clearly on it, he realized how much it truly bothered you to be heard by someone else other than him, and it sent small pangs of guilt all throughout his being. 'How inconsiderate of me,' he thought, cursing himself for not having any restraint despite his warning of the possibilities earlier. Alastor owed you an apology for the way he ignored your feelings in pursuit of his own pleasure, especially when you had been nothing but compassionate and accommodating of his needs.

Taking a step back, Alastor bent over to unlace his shoes and remove his remaining garments that were wrapped around his ankles - allowing you a glimpse of something curious. Initially, you had no idea what it was as you leaned forward, then side to side in an attempt to get a better look at it. "Hmm...?" Alastor hummed when he stood up straight, immediately noting the perplexed expression that overtook your features as he kicked his trousers and briefs to the side. "Something the matter, dear?" he asked you, tilting his head to the side as you pressed your lips into a thin line. You continued to eye the neatly groomed ball of crimson and black fluff for a few seconds before it finally dawned on you what it might have been.

Does... he have a tail?

"Alastor, is that a tail?" you blurted without thinking, immediately slapping both of your hands over your mouth right after. "Oh- that," he said nonchalantly, moving to stand between your legs once more. Your body tensed as you awaited his reaction, certain that you had earned yourself a good scolding for such an impolite question. You hadn't meant to be so bold or outright, but you've long since known that your body and your brain hadn't been on the same page since the moment all of this began. "Yes, it's a tail," Alastor responded with a sigh and turned slightly, swishing the puff of fur side to side a couple times to amuse you before turning back. "I'm sorry, that was rude- ...!?" you tried to apologize, but a surprised squeal interrupted your speech when his sharpened claws sunk into your posterior after he hoisted you up off the desk, your hands shooting up to grab onto his shoulders and legs wrapping around his waist in the process.

"It's alright, darling," Alastor reassured you, spinning around and taking a few long strides to the rarely used bed. "While I'm not particularly fond of it, my tail isn't something that I've ever gone out of my way to hide," he explained, dropping you onto the mattress and climbing on top of you soon after, nestling himself in between your legs as you breathed a sigh of relief - albeit a short-lived one. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, causing your body to tense right back up with each word that spilled from his lips. "Although, you are correct - it was quite rude to ask such a thing," he clicked his tongue in mock disapproval, his pointed teeth nipping at the shell of your ear, then moving down to tug on the lobe. "Perhaps I should give you a lesson in proper etiquette, hm?" Alastor mused, rolling his bare hips against yours, sending shivers up and down your spine, not missing the flash of panic in your eyes when his words finally registered in your brain.

'Shit. Shit, shit, shit- fucking hell, fuck my life!' you thought, trying to reel yourself back in and failing miserably. If this 'lesson' of his was anything like the punishment he had doled out earlier, you knew you were in for a rough night - one that would leave you physically incapable of walking out of his room come morning. "No- ...! Al, no, no... i-it was just a slip of the tongue, I swear!" your pleas had no effect on him though, his lips ghosting over the carotid artery in your neck, then over your collar bone and traveling further down to your breasts. "I'm sorry, please- ...!" you spoke, only to be interrupted by Alastor's stern gaze, looking up at you as he placed butterfly kisses to your bare chest and his teeth grazed over your erect nipple. "I know you are, dear," Alastor started, kissing further down your diaphragm to your navel, not breaking eye contact for even a millisecond. "But if 'sorry' fixed everything, there would be no hell, no demons, and we most definitely would not be in this hotel," he smirked wickedly, knowing that you couldn't argue with the point he had just made - your silence proved as much.

Alastor continued to move south, soon reaching the delicious mound between your thighs, never once thinking it would be this fun, this intoxicating. But, as much as he wanted to devour you and everything you had to offer him, he was on a self-imposed mission now and couldn't let himself get distracted. He would have the chance to indulge himself in a few short moments, anyway. Heated breath fanning over your soaked core, Alastor lightly kissed and nipped at the insides of your thighs, past your knees and down your calves - stopping momentarily for a taste of your blood that was still seeping from your self-inflicted wound. He groaned as the taste of copper coated his tongue, one hand wrapping around your ankle, deft digits unclasping the strap of your heel - repeating the process with the other and discarding both seconds later.

Sighing in defeat, you wiggled your newly freed toes while Alastor began to kiss his way back up your body until he was face to face with you again. "W-well then... what would this lesson entail, exactly?" you asked nervously, resigning yourself over to your fate as you tried to sift through your mixed emotions, unable to differentiate your anxiety from your excitement for the coming lesson. "Ah, ah, ah - patience, my dear," Alastor chuckled darkly at your question, not bothering to answer it as he roughly pressed his lips to yours and pinched one of your pert nipples. "Mmph-phh!" you whined, your body flinching at the pain his digits were causing as he twisted the sensitive flesh between his thumb and forefinger. Alastor pulled back, his teeth dragging your bottom lip with him as far as it would go - releasing it and your pebbled nipple simultaneously a few seconds later.

"On your knees."

Gulping audibly, you moved to sit up and reposition yourself in the center of his bed, eager yet a bit fearful of what he had in store. "O-okay... now what?" Alastor didn't answer your question at first, his figure evaporating into a cloud of black smoke only to reform in the space behind you. You couldn't see what he was doing, feeling the bed shift with his every move, causing your heart to race as you did your best to wait patiently for whatever it was that he had planned. "Now, we're going to play a little game, love," Alastor whispered in your ear, using his knee to force your legs further apart, tracing his lips down the rigid vertebrae of your spine. He placed one final kiss at the small of your back, eventually moving to lie flat on his own and scooting upwards until his face was between your thighs.

Looking down when you felt his antlers scrape across your sensitive skin, you had to cover your mouth with both hands to stile a laugh. "Alastor, what are you doing?" you asked, not expecting to have seen just his head in this position nor the uncharacteristic look of innocence he was giving you - a stark contrast to his previous display of dominance moments ago. "I told you already - we're going to play a game, one that will teach you some proper manners," Alastor explained despite knowing that your question was rhetorical - he knew it must have been an amusing sight, to look down and see his face when you were likely expecting him to whisper sweet nothings in your ear as he took you in every which way he pleased. He still intended to do exactly that, but not before you finished this game he just now concocted. Hands latching on to your hips, Alastor pulled your lower body down until you could feel his breath against your warmth each time he exhaled, that devilish silver tongue of his licking a single long stripe from your opening up and over your clit, then back down again.

"The rules are simple enough," Alastor began to explain, hands drifting down from your hips to the tops of your thighs and squeezing lightly. "I'll go easy on you, my darling doe. All you have to do is name five basic etiquette rules. If you stop talking, I stop," he paused mid-sentence to lick another stripe up your slick folds, "if you slow down, I slow down," another pause, this time flicking the tip of his tongue over the pink nub in between. "And if you cum before reciting them to me, trust that I won't let you cum again tonight," he promised, smile wide and wicked, a mischievous laugh following his words. You broke out into a cold sweat as he explained, your nerves kicking into overdrive as you tried to remember what the rules were. Most of them were common courtesy and usually taught to everyone during childhood, but with your mind so clouded with lust, you couldn't think of a single one. On the bright side, at least he only wanted you to name five.

"A-and... what if I can't recite any of these rules?" you asked sheepishly, biting the inside of your cheek to hold back your mewls when he dipped his tongue inside your plush walls and swirled all around them, retreating soon after and returning to your clit. He pulled back just enough to speak, inhaling your sweet scent and fighting back the urge to dive right back in - rules be damned. "Hmm... I'll give you one hint. After that, well... You're on your own. Use it wisely, my dear," his voice trailed off, eyes glowing a bright red as you stared at each other.

"Now, shall we begin, my sweet?"

Fuck, this was going to be hard. How the fuck were you supposed to think and form coherent sentences when his ministrations were lighting every single nerve in your body on fire? And you hadn't even begun yet! Alastor was awaiting your signal to start, anticipation and impatience gnawing away at his self-control. "Ooohhh- ohh-kaah- aay-! Let's staa-hahh- arrrt-!" you cried, trying to focus your mind so that you could begin. "Wonderful," he responded shortly before diving back in for another taste of your honey sweet essence. He started by poking and prodding at your slick entrance, then moved up to suck on your clit as you moaned softly with each suckle, each flick over the small cluster of nerves. He could see the gears turning in that pretty little head of yours, trying to find the words to recite the first rule of basic etiquette.

"O-okay, uhm... fuck," you whispered. "One rule is- so the first rule, I mean- nnghh!" a harsh suckle from Alastor was making it hard for you to focus on anything except the pleasure he was giving you. "A-always be respectful to others-!" With one rule down, you heard Alastor hum softly into your heated flesh, gasping loudly when he opened his mouth wider and pressed his tongue flat against your delicious mound, making long, firm strokes. "Aaahh-! Another rule i-is... shit, another rule is- ... is, be punctual- hahh! Let someone k-know if you're going to be- fuck! -To be late!" Rule number two, done; three to go. You tried to keep talking, even if it was just a bunch of babbling nonsense. You didn't want him to slow down or stop, but as the coil in your belly tightened rapidly and threatened to snap at any second, you recalled the third rule he had given you:

'And f you cum before reciting them to me, trust that I won't let you cum again tonight.'

Those words rang in your ears as you reluctantly closed your mouth and forced yourself to stop talking, trying to cool yourself off and push back your orgasm. Alastor wasn't pleased by this, but he was the one that set the rules, so he obeyed - stopping his movements and glaring up at you, his nails digging into the fat of your thighs as a warning not to test his already too thin patience. "Go on," he urged you, his right hand retreating from your leg to travel down his own body to his painfully erect cock, precum dripping from his slit and rolling down the length of it to soak the patch of neatly groomed crimson hair at his base. Swallowing hard, you nodded your head and opened your mouth to continue speaking even though you had not yet come down completely. "A-ask for permission, an-nnnghh-! And uhmm- oh fuck! Fuck, c-cover your mouth when you... when you sneeze, or cough- oh my god!" you recited rule number three and four in quick succession, your hands shooting down to twist and tug at his magnificently opulent head of red and black hair, eventually moving to wrap around the base of his antlers, looking for something to ground yourself as you tried to think of one final rule.

"You're doing well, Mon Amour. One more, and then you can let go," Alastor promised you, lazily stroking his hardened length in an effort to alleviate some of the pain, a bead of pre rolling down the length of it and mixing with your combined essences in the space between his shaft and balls. A soft whine escaped his throat when he tightened his grip and began to pump himself with a little more vigor, drool mixed with the delicious nectar spilling from your core trickling down the sides of his face and coating his chin. "Come now, don't keep me waiting. You can do it," he mumbled against your flesh, waiting for you to begin speaking again.

Alastor continued to pump his shaft, gradually gaining speed as you remained silent, panting hard and squeezing his antlers even harder, struggling to fight back your release long enough to finish the game. But the sight beneath you was one to behold, indeed - you couldn't bring yourself down even a smidgen as you admired the way the soft light shone on his disheveled hair, how his hooded eyes spoke volumes on what he was feeling, new branches forming and growing from the main roots of his antlers as control began to slip from his fingertips once more. And just as you stared at him, he stared back. His own eyes traveled from your blissed out expression, pupils blown wide with lust, to the bite marks and hickeys scattered across your neck and collarbone, and further down to the curve of your supple breasts heaving as you tried to catch your breath before you continued. "My sweet doe, please..." Now he was the one that was begging, voice thick with seduction and desperation. Had you not been so close to your peak, you would have taken full advantage of the opportunity to dominate him this time around.

You watched him for a couple seconds, listening as his breathing became more ragged and the slick sounds of his hand rapidly pumping his shaft grew louder and louder. Moans soon replaced his huffs and gasps as he pushed himself closer to his climax, almost foregoing his own game and devouring your sweet little cunt as he chased his high - but no. He persevered, pinching his tip suddenly to push back his own release in favor of hearing the last rule he so eagerly waited for you to speak. He didn't have to wait for long, as you finally felt comfortable enough to open your mouth and continue speaking, pressing your drenched core down and grinding slow, harsh circles on his mouth. "A-and the last rule- nnghh oh fuck me, just like that-!" you whispered, grip tightening around his antlers as Alastor growled against your ambrosian heat, his left hand moving down to join the other by cupping his aching balls, kneading and rolling them between his digits, slurping messily and sucking harshly on your clit as he came closer and closer to his release.

"The last rule i-is- hahhh-! A-always... always say please and thank you!" you finished, closing your eyes and throwing your head bad in ecstasy, your hips gyrating, desperately chasing that breath-takingly, blissful release. "Oh my god, fuck- thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank youuu-ahh! Please, keep going, Al-!" you cried as the blinding, white hot euphoria crashed into you at long last, tremors wracking your entire body as you rode out your high, your essence pouring from your cunt and down Alastor's throat, eliciting a graphic, drawn out groan as he vigorously pumped away at his cock - too far gone to care that you had broken the golden rule by looking away from him. Not wanting to cum just yet, Alastor retracted his hands from his aching shaft and grabbed hold of your waist, lifting you slightly to slip out from beneath you.

"You're so good for me! So good," Alastor murmured as he moved to sit on his knees behind you, pushing your body forward until you were on your hands and knees. Grabbing hold of your hips and dragging you closer to him, he didn't waste any time as he guided his throbbing member to your quivering hole, your juices making it easy for him to slip inside with minimal resistance. Setting a brutal pace almost instantly, Alastor held you by the hips as you lowered your upper body until your face was pressed against the heavy duvet, your hands clenching the thick fabric as Alastor pounded away at your overstimulated pussy, his balls slapping loudly against your clit as your walls clamped down on his engorged cock. "Hah- A-Ah! Ala- fuck, yes, just like that! Please don't stop, please don't stop, don't stop!" you babbled, your voice muffled by the blanket as you closed your eyes tightly, riding the aftershocks while he used you for his own gratification.

"Fuuuhh-ckkk!" you barely heard Alastor curse, his voice almost completely drowned out by the rhythmic 'pap! pap! pap!' sound of skin on skin, his thrusts becoming more animalistic with every slap, every plea you cried than bounced off the walls and invaded his senses. His eyes traveled down the length of your arched spine, watching as ripples were sent through the fat of your ass each time his hips made contact, his cock sliding against your pliant walls with ease, his tip bullying your cervix. "Hah! Hah! Fuh- ... uhah! Ala- ... Hah! Ah!" you practically screamed, his thrusts interrupting any attempts to say his name each time he plowed forward.

"Take it, take it, fucking take it- fuck!"

[ Master Post ] ❀ [ Chapter One ] ❀ [ Chapter Two ] ❀ [ Chapter Three ] ❀ [ Chapter Four ] ❀ [ Chapter Five ] Chapter Four Coming Soon~!

[thefandomdirtymind]

Opla!sanji and a siren/mermaid???

A/N IMPORTANT:  Hi anon ! Thank you for your request, as a big fan or mermaid/siren I was so thrill by the idea ! I had tried many things here and I hope you will like it !

The Mermaid Dream

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji series : SFW Shiny Offering - NSFW The Small Favor

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.  

---

The notorious floating restaurant The Baratie was, like every other night, completely full. At every table of the large dining room were sat the most famous and wanted Pirates. Adding to the hubbub of their conversation and squeaking of their utensils against their plates, the waiters, in a urge to offer the perfect service and then earn their tips, looked like a swarm of bees dancing around elegant honeycombs. 

The kitchen wasn't any more quiet. In every corner or the overheated room, the crew of cooks was running to prepare the many dishes ordered. Only stopping a millisecond to put the plates under the warming light and watch with nervous eyes if Zeff, the renowned chef and owner of the place, was preparing himself to punish somebody, hoping there wasn’t them.

Even the opened mouth of this unusual boat establishment, occupied by a respectable bar, was crowded and noisy. 

Nervously standing behind the luxurious burgundy velvet curtain, your palm sweaty, you briefly closed your eyes, trying to hear the sound of the wave crashing against the ship hull. It wasn't the first time you were performing for the Baratie. But, you knew that each time was risky. The mermaid folks weren’t still welcome everywhere, most of the population were scared of being bewitched by your voices and the others had used your people to commit crimes and atrocities.

It was why you always wore a long gown covering your temporary legs and politely declined any trace of liquid they would offer you. It only takes a drop of water or a stubborn scale and your life would be in immediate danger. Of course Zeff was aware of what you are and would never let nothing happen to you. But, you couldn’t only count on him to protect you, you had to be cautious.

“ Miss Y/N it’s time, everythings is okay ?“ A polite waiter asked you, the golden cord in his hand,ready to unveil you to the loaded room. Nodding of your head, opening your eyes, you let the noise of the water calm your last knocked nerve before lifting your head to face your public.

The first note of your song, played by the musicians behind you, starts to fill the now quiet hall. It was mostly for you a faceless audience, only a few were really counting : like his. 

Still dressed in his cook uniform, his back against the wall, arm crossed against his chest, Sanji was smiling, waiting for you to operate your tour de force. As you know, the blond sous chef had, so far, never missed one of your performances, even if it had meant being punished by his mentor.

Signing your song, your voice flowing like the water of a peaceful river to finish in a waterfall. You open your eyes under a thunder of applause. Still in his corner, Sanji was clapping his hand with fervor, his face radiant of joy like if he had just discovered a new method of cooking. 

Later that night, as you emerged yourself in the oversize bathtub of your personal dressing room, your fins resting on the copper border and the last scales on your breast taking his place. You smiled. You knew that you shouldn’t think of him, loving a human when you couldn’t keep a pair of legs longer than a few hours was ridiculous. However, you couldn’t stop yourself. Aside from Zeff, he was the only one knowing your secret and never made you feel uncomfortable about it.

Three knocks at the door extracted you from your thoughts followed by the sound of the key in the keyhole. You aren’t kept captive in the Baratie, but for your safety, Zeff had a long time ago asked you to lock the door, preventing anyone to simply walk on you as you were unable to freely move, stuck like a fish in a tank. Usually, your only visitor at these hours was the old chef coming to thank you for the show and often tell you stories about his time of piracy. 

But, it was Sanji who entered the room, this time dressed in a navy suit, a tray in his hand. 

“ Good evening Madam, I thought you should be famished after such an enchanting show “

“ I’m not really a Madam you know Sanji “ You smiled, amused even if the fact that you truly aren’t a human woman stung your heart a little.” I’m indeed hungry, thank you”  

“ Nonsense. You are more a lady than many that I had served in this crappy restaurant “ He replied, approaching the coffee table of the bath to put your plate and silverwares as he pulled himself a chair '' Salmon with his creamy lemon sauce, I prepared it myself with caution. “ 

“ It smells fantastique “ You smiled, lifting your upper body enough to be able to eat. “ Hmm, that's delicious, I truly had nothing like this in the whole sea” 

Here again, that proud smile was plastered on his face, making you regret your own nature as he looked at you eating his own kind of tour de force. The vicious cramps traveling your fins,was another. Trying to keep your expression blank, you couldn’t sadly stop the moan of pain you let escape after a particular strong one. 

“ What happened Miss Y/N, something wrong ?!” A concerned Sanji asked, his hand cripping the side of the tube, ready to take action and extract you of the water if needed. 

“ It's nothing, the side effect of being too long on two legs instead of…fins.” You confessed, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. “ It takes me a lot of energy and control to keep the form of my legs, i’m just exhausted, it will be over  when I will leave after the closing of the restaurant” You reassured him, touched by his worried tone. 

“ I see, then why are you pushing yourself to do those shows if it’s hurt you afterward ? Does Zeff know ? “ 

Eating your dinner, you slowly nod of the head, remembering the first time the old man discovered you crying of pain in the tube. He had at first, like Sanji, been worried,but, hearring you out he had finally accepted the fact that he couldn’t make you change your mind.  

“ It’s worth it. For the moment I can’t, people aren’t ready yet, but one day, I want to sit on this stage in this form. I want people to know that they don’t have to be afraid of us. We can sing without bewitching them, we don’t chase them if they fall in the water. when we shed tears, it’s from pain, not to make a profit of their medicinal effect. That’s my dream, that one day I will be able to show people that we are good, not monsters. “

“ It’s an admirable dream “ Sanji smiled, a tenderness in his eyes.” If somebody is capable of such a thing it’s you.  After all you didn’t have to talk or sing, I had been spellbound the minute I saw you and I'm sure that the audience could say the same. “

Looking at his sincere face, you felt the warm sensation of hope blooming in your scaly chest. 

“ I would never use my magic on you, you know Sanji aren’t you ? “ You replied, wishing you had not misunderstood his words. 

“ I know, Madam. The things I feel every time I'm near you aren't an illusion, no lies could be that strong…” 

Your heart racing like if you were hunted by a shark, you gently placed your hand on his, tangling them affectionately. 

“ Sanji, would you walk me to the deck tonight…” You demanded. The walk, situated at the tail of the building, wasn’t very long, but it would let you spend a lot of time in his company before having to go back in the water. 

“As you wish Y/N “ He promised, watching your tangled hand. “ I should go, the restaurant will close soon and the old man will probably look out for me.”

“ See you later, I will wait for you outside, near your usual smoking place” You confirm, gripping the side of the tub in excitement. 

“ I will be there, see you later “ He replied before going out, leaving you alone to realize what just happened.

--

The half moon was high when Sanji got out of the closed Baratie.Without realizing it, he had replayed in his head every of your smile and phrases during your conversation, still amazed that you returned his affection.  But as he arrived at the meeting spot, his heart missed a beat. 

A hand against your mouth, flanked by two customers previously kicked out, you were fighting for your life, your fragile leg giving up under you as you tried to get yourself free.

“ Let her go now” He ordered, rage filling his veins. How could they dare touch your perfection and try to steal you from him.

“ Mate, go back inside mind your own business !” One of the pirates replied, trying to move you.  

“ I say, let her go. “ Sanji repeated, taking his fighting stance. The men were larger and heavier than him, but with his training and under your terrified gaze, he couldn’t lose. 

It didn’t take long to put them down. Sadly, you join them when your knees buckle due to the loss of energy. 

“ Y/N are you okay ? “ The blond jumped, catching you.

“ Yes I…need the water...I…I’m sorry” You said, tears filling your eyes. “ They said somebody saw me coming out of the water, they were waiting for me, Sanji…I can’t sing here anymore…” 

“ I will inform the old man, he will find the person and you will be able to sing here as long as you want.” He promised, caressing the side of your face. “ Let me put you in the water, your skin is cold and you shake of exhaustion  “ 

“ No wait I wanted...I wanted to…never mind” You said, avoiding his gaze as your legs disappeared. 

“ What ? Tell me  “ He insisted. 

“ I wanted to kiss you…during the time I have legs…like a normal girl but…they're gone…I’m sorry it’s stupid.”  You sigh, embarrassed. 

“ A normal girl…Madam, don’t lower yourself to that, you’re fantastic as you are and I would never want anything else. Now if you let me “ He reassured you, lifting you in his arms in a bridal style before gently putting his lips against yours.  

Kissing him was like breathing underwater :soft,warm and perfect. As he gently retreated his mouth, you could still see that something was in this thought. 

“ You can sing here as much as you want but…I think I have a proposition for you. Yesterday a guy offered me a place in his crew, the Old man pushed me to go for it…find the All blue.  Please, come with me…You could show people like you wanted that you not what they thought, I will protect you and these crew seem really good” 

The offer takes you by surprise, you never could imagine The Baratie without him. In fact, you couldn’t imagine yourself singing there anymore if he wasn’t even there to watch you perform, nor could you think of your life without him in it. 

“ Okay, if they accept me I will follow you” 

—

The straw hat crew didn’t just accept you, you became a member of the group. 

Swimming  along the boat, signaling at Sanji to be ready,you take some speed and jump grabbing the dangling rope, letting you perform Luffy's favorite number : The flying mermaid.

Helped by your previous momentum, you rise above the lower deck and fall in the arm of Sanji, always waiting to catch his precious mermaid.

[estellan0vella]

Firefighters ❀ includes: Levi, Eren, Jean, Connie, Armin, Mikasa, Annie, Sasha & Historia Masterlist

Levi Ackerman

The world seems to shift beneath you, a rumble that grows into a violent quake, shaking the ground and everything on it. You instinctively grab hold of Pongo, your Dalmatian, and take cover under a sturdy table. The tremors last for what feels like an eternity, causing objects to fall and shatter around you.

When the shaking finally subsides, you breathe a sigh of relief, but it's cut short. The ceiling above you groans and cracks. You barely have time to pull Pongo closer to you before the plaster and beams come crashing down. You shield Pongo with your body, pain shooting through you as the debris traps you.

"Stay calm, Pongo," you whisper, your voice shaky. Your loyal companion whimpers, nuzzling against you.

Hours pass. Your limbs grow numb from the pressure and the awkward position you're in. You try to stay conscious, but it's a struggle. Then, you hear it – the distant sound of sirens, growing louder, closer. Pongo's ears perk up, and he begins to bark.

"Help!" you manage to shout, though your voice is hoarse and weak. "Over here! Help!"

Pongo's barking grows more frantic. You hear voices, heavy boots on rubble, the clatter of tools. Relief washes over you – they're here. But you're still buried, unable to move.

"Pongo, go get help," you whisper, hoping he understands. "Find someone."

Pongo hesitates, but then he scrambles out from under the table and through a small gap in the debris. You pray he'll find someone who can save you.

Captain Levi Ackerman wipes sweat from his brow, surveying the chaotic scene. Buildings lie in ruins, smoke and dust filling the air. His team moves swiftly, searching for survivors. His sharp eyes catch movement – a Dalmatian, dashing towards them.

"Hey, buddy," he says, bending down as the dog approaches. The Dalmatian grabs Levi's trousers with his teeth, tugging insistently.

Levi's brows furrow. "What is wrong with you? You're going to rip my trousers"

The dog pulls harder, not letting go. It's clear he wants Levi to follow. Trusting the animal's instincts, Levi signals to his team. "I'm going with him. Keep searching this area."

Pongo leads Levi through the rubble, his determination unrelenting. He pulls Levi down narrow passages, over broken beams, and through precarious gaps. Levi follows, impressed by the dog's intelligence and persistence.

Finally, Pongo stops and starts digging at a particular spot, barking furiously. Levi drops to his knees and starts clearing the debris with his gloved hands. "Hang in there! We're coming!"

Your voice is weak but audible. "Over here! Please, help!"

Levi's heart pounds as he works faster. He uncovers a part of your arm and gently squeezes it. "Hey, I'm Levi. I've got you. Just stay with me."

Pongo licks your face, whining softly. Levi calls over his shoulder, "I need help over here!"

Two firefighters join him, and together they lift the heavier beams, carefully extracting you from the wreckage. You're bruised and dusty, but alive. As they pull you free, an aftershock hits, the ground trembling once more.

Without hesitation, Levi throws himself over you, shielding your body with his. His arms encircle you protectively, his weight pressing you into the ground. "Stay still," he murmurs into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "It's going to be okay."

The aftershock passes, and Levi slowly eases off you, helping you sit up. "Are you hurt badly? Can you move?"

"I think I'm okay," you say, though your voice shakes. "Just a bit banged up."

Levi helps you to your feet, keeping a steadying hand on your arm. "Let's get you checked out by the medics."

You nod, leaning on him as you walk. Pongo stays close by your side, his tail wagging with relief.

As you reach the triage area, Levi hands you over to the medical team but stays nearby. After a thorough check-up, they determine you have no major injuries – just some cuts and bruises, and dehydration. You're given water and a blanket to keep warm.

Levi approaches you, a small smile playing on his lips. "Looks like you're going to be just fine."

"Thanks to you," you reply, feeling a rush of gratitude. "And Pongo, of course."

Levi kneels down, scratching Pongo behind the ears. "You've got quite the dog here. He's a real hero."

Pongo barks happily, licking Levi's face. You laugh, the sound a welcome release after the day's ordeal. "Yeah, he's my brave boy."

Levi stands, meeting your eyes with a soft gaze. "I'd like to get to know him better. Maybe his owner too."

Your cheeks flush at his words. "Oh? Are you flirting with me, Mr. Firefighter?"

"Maybe I am," he says with a playful glint in his eye. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card, handing it to you. "Here's my number. In case you want to thank me properly some time. Or if Pongo wants to see me again."

You take the card, smiling. "I might just do that."

Levi gives you a nod, then turns to leave, but not before giving Pongo one last pat. "Take care, both of you."

As he walks away, you feel a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. Today has been a whirlwind, but in the midst of the chaos, something unexpected has happened. You look at the card in your hand, then at Pongo, who looks up at you with those loyal, loving eyes.

"Well, Pongo," you say, scratching his head. "Looks like we've made a new friend today."

Pongo barks in agreement, and you can't help but smile. The world may have shaken, but here in this moment, you feel a sense of stability, hope, and maybe the beginning of something new.

Eren Jaeger

The shrill sound of the fire alarm slices through the calm of your office, wrenching you from the spreadsheet on your screen. Startled, you glance around at your coworkers, who are equally confused and alarmed. The usual hum of keyboards and muted conversations is replaced by a rising tide of panic. Smoke begins to seep under the door to your office, curling in ominous tendrils that make your heart race.

You stand, the chair screeching against the floor, and grab your phone and purse. "Everybody out! Let's go!" you shout, trying to maintain a semblance of calm. The urgency in your voice propels everyone into action. Feet pound against the carpet as your colleagues scramble towards the exit, their voices a cacophony of fear.

As you push into the hallway, the thickening smoke and growing heat become overwhelming. You cover your mouth with a sleeve, coughing as you make your way to the stairwell. But the sight that greets you stops you cold. Flames lick the walls, blocking the way down. The fire is spreading faster than you ever imagined.

"Shit," you mutter, turning back. Your mind races, trying to recall the layout of the building. The only option left is the balcony in your office. You sprint back, hoping against hope that help is on its way.

When you burst back into your office, you're met with the roar of flames and a wave of intense heat. Your coworkers are nowhere to be seen—they must have found another way out. Panic claws at your chest as you rush to the balcony door and fling it open. The fresh air is a brief relief from the smoke, but you're still trapped.

Below, a scene of chaos unfolds. Fire trucks are parked haphazardly, their sirens blaring. Firefighters are everywhere, some aiming powerful jets of water at the building, others coordinating the evacuation. You spot a large inflatable airbag directly below your balcony, and a flicker of hope ignites within you.

"Hey! Up here!" you shout, waving your arms. The movement catches the attention of a firefighter, his face partially obscured by his helmet and the smoke. He motions to his team and points up at you. Relief floods through you as you realize you're not alone.

Moments later, the firefighter appears on the balcony using the ladder, his face now fully visible. He's tall, with striking green eyes that are filled with determination. His gear is covered in soot, but he moves with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what he's doing.

"I'm Eren Jaeger," he says, his voice steady despite the chaos. "We're going to get you out of here."

You nod, your fear momentarily quelled by his presence. "Y/N," you manage to say through the smoke. "How do we get down?"

He steps closer, assessing the situation. "The stairwell's blocked, and the fire's spreading too fast for us to wait for backup. We need to jump."

Your heart skips a beat. "Jump? Are you serious?"

He nods, his expression serious but reassuring. "It's the safest way, you do not have ladder-appropriate shoes on. We have an airbag set up down there. I'll go with you."

The thought of jumping off a balcony is terrifying, but the alternative is far worse. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. "Okay. What do I do?"

Eren moves to the edge of the balcony and looks down, then back at you. "I'll count to three. On three, we jump together. I'll hold onto you, so you don't need to worry about anything."

You nod again, trying to steady yourself. The heat is almost unbearable now, and the smoke is making it hard to breathe. Eren positions himself next to you, his grip firm and reassuring.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice cutting through the haze of your fear.

"As I'll ever be," you reply, your voice trembling.

He gives you a tight nod. "Alright. One, two—" Before you can register what's happening, he grabs you and leaps off the balcony. A scream rips from your throat as the ground rushes up to meet you.

You hit the airbag with a jarring thud, Eren's strong arms cushioning you. The world spins for a moment before you realize you're safe. You scramble to your feet, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

"What the fuck happened to three?" you shout, your voice a mix of relief and anger.

Eren chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement despite the soot on his face. "Sorry, Y/N. It's easier if you don't expect it. Less time to panic."

You can't help but laugh, the tension of the moment breaking. "You could have warned me!"

"Where's the fun in that?" he teases, pulling off his helmet. His hair is damp with sweat, but he runs a hand through it, giving you a lopsided grin.

Despite the chaos around you, the heat of the flames, and the residual fear, you find yourself smiling back. "Thank you, Eren. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't shown up."

He shrugs, a modest gesture that doesn't quite match the heroism of his actions. "Just doing my job. But I'm glad I could help." He pauses, his gaze lingering on you for a moment. "You did great up there."

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, the adrenaline making it hard to come up with a witty response. "I just followed orders."

Eren laughs, a warm sound that cuts through the lingering fear. "Well, if you ever need saving again, you know who to call." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a slightly crumpled business card, handing it to you.

You take it, your fingers brushing against his. "Eren Jaeger, firefighter," you read aloud, then glance up at him. "You really carry these around?"

He gives a sheepish shrug. "Never know when you might need to network."

You chuckle, slipping the card into your pocket. "Well, I appreciate it. And I might just take you up on that."

His smile widens, and he steps closer, his expression earnest. "Or, you know, if you ever want to grab a coffee or something. I promise it's a lot less dangerous than jumping off balconies."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Are you asking me out, Eren?"

He meets your gaze, unabashed. "Maybe I am. What do you say?"

You glance around at the chaos slowly being brought under control, then back at him. "I think I'd like that."

He grins, and for a moment, the world feels a little less chaotic. "Great. I'll wait for your call."

Jean Kirstein

The streets are quiet tonight, the city wrapped in a blanket of calm as the clock nears midnight. The rhythmic wail of distant sirens is a faint reminder that peace can be shattered at any moment. For you, the tranquillity of your drive home is shattered when, out of nowhere, a car swerves wildly into your lane. The impact is sudden and violent, metal screeching and glass shattering as your car is wedged between two others.

You're trapped. Panic surges through you, the acrid smell of gasoline and burnt rubber filling your nostrils. You try to move, but the pain in your arm is excruciating. Your breath comes in short, panicked gasps. The world outside is a blur of flashing lights and muffled shouts.

"Hang on! We're gonna get you out of there!" The voice is firm, and authoritative, cutting through your panic. You turn your head, vision swimming, and see a man in a firefighter's uniform. His helmet reads 'Kirstein.'

"I'm Jean. Can you tell me your name?" he asks, his voice steady and reassuring despite the chaos around him.

"Y/N," you manage to say, wincing as a sharp pain shoots through your arm.

"Okay, Y/N. We're gonna get you out. Just stay with me, alright?"

Jean turns to his team, issuing rapid commands. "We need the jaws of life over here! This car door's not budging without them."

You watch as they work with practised efficiency, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over you despite the pain. Jean returns to your side, his eyes scanning you for injuries.

"How are you holding up?" he asks, his tone softer now.

"My arm... it hurts a lot," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

He nods, glancing at your arm. "Looks like it might be broken. We'll get you out and take care of that, I promise."

The next few minutes are a blur of noise and motion. The jaws of life whirr and groan as they pry your car open. Jean's team works quickly, and soon there's enough space for him to reach in and start easing you out.

"This might hurt a bit," he warns, slipping an arm around your shoulders and helping you manoeuvre out of the wreckage. You bite back a cry as pain flares in your arm, but Jean's grip is strong and steady.

Once you're free, he helps you over to a nearby ambulance, easing you onto a stretcher. "Let's take a look at that arm," he says, examining it with gentle hands. You watch his face, noting the concentration etched into his features.

"Definitely broken," he confirms, looking up at you with a reassuring smile. "But don't worry, we'll fix you up."

As he works, you can't help but notice his eyes – a warm brown that seems to reflect the concern and determination within him. He wraps your arm, immobilizing it with a sling.

"There, that should hold until we get you to the hospital," he says, his voice gentle. "How's the pain?"

"It's... manageable," you reply, grateful for the relief the sling provides.

"Good," Jean says, standing back slightly to give you some space. "You're doing great, Y/N. Just hang in there a little longer."

You nod, feeling a mix of exhaustion and relief. The adrenaline is starting to wear off, leaving you feeling drained.

"Thank you," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jean smiles, a warm, genuine expression that reaches his eyes. "Just doing my job. Besides, you made it easy on me."

As the paramedics prepare to transport you to the hospital, Jean stays by your side, offering words of comfort and support. His presence is a steady anchor in the midst of the chaos.

Once you're settled in the ambulance, he leans in, a playful glint in his eyes. "You know, I don't usually give out my number to people I rescue," he says, his tone teasing.

You raise an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the pain. "Oh? And why is that?"

"Well," he says, pulling a card from his pocket and handing it to you, "I like to make sure they're worth the trouble first."

You laugh softly, taking the card. "And what makes you think I'm worth the trouble?"

He grins, his eyes twinkling. "Call it a hunch. Plus, I figure anyone who can handle a night like this with such grace deserves a chance."

You glance at the card, then back at him. "I'll think about it," you say, slipping the card into your pocket.

"That's all I can ask for," Jean replies, stepping back as the ambulance doors start to close. "Take care, Y/N. And don't be a stranger."

Connie Springer

The storm rages around you, its howling winds and torrential rain turning the night into a tempestuous nightmare. You cling to the hope that help will arrive soon as you lie pinned beneath a heavy tree that fell on your porch. The pain is excruciating, but you manage to stay conscious, your breath coming in short, laboured gasps.

Suddenly, you hear the faint wail of sirens approaching, growing louder with each passing second. Relief floods through you as you realize that rescue is on its way. A moment later, you catch sight of flashing lights and the unmistakable red of a fire truck.

"Hang on! We're coming!" a voice calls out, and you turn your head slightly to see a group of firefighters rushing towards you. One of them, a young man with a buzz cut and a determined expression, quickly rushes to you.

"Hey, can you hear me?" he asks, kneeling beside you. His voice is warm and reassuring despite the urgency of the situation.

"Y-yes," you manage to croak out. "I'm... I'm stuck."

"Hi Stuck, I'm Connie Springer," he says with a small smile, trying to keep you calm and you let out a weak snort. "Hey, that's laughter and laughter is good. We're going to get you out of here. Just hang tight, okay?"

You nod weakly, your eyes flickering to the other firefighters gathering around. Connie follows your gaze and starts pointing them out, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"See that guy over there with the horse face?" he says, pointing to a tall, lanky firefighter. "That's Jean. Don't worry about him, he's more scared of you than you are of him."

You can't help but let out a small, pained laugh. Connie's light-hearted insults are a welcome distraction from the pain.

"And the one with the permanent scowl?" Connie continues, indicating a dark-haired young man who looks like he's never smiled a day in his life. "That's Eren. He's angry because the rain ruined his hair."

Eren shoots Connie a glare but doesn't say anything, focusing instead on assessing the situation.

"Then we've got Armin," Connie says, pointing to a blond firefighter with a kind face. "He's the brains of the operation."

Armin gives you a reassuring smile. "We'll have you out of here in no time," he says.

"And last but not least," Connie adds, gesturing to a woman with messy hair and a wide grin, "that's Sasha. She'd probably eat the tree if she thought it would taste good."

"Hey!" Sasha protests, though she's laughing too.

Connie turns his attention back to you. "Alright, Y/N, we're going to lift this tree off you and get you out. Just keep talking to me, okay? It'll help keep your mind off things."

As his colleagues get to work, you try to focus on Connie's voice. "What do you do, Y/N? What's your job?"

"I'm... I'm a voice actress," you say, wincing as the pain flares up again.

"No way," Connie says, eyes widening in surprise. "Anything we might've heard of?"

"Well, I'm the voice of Maomao in 'The Apothecary Diaries,'" you reply, managing a small smile despite the pain.

Connie's face lights up. "No way! We watch that show all the time at the station! Guys, did you hear that? We've got Maomao here!"

The others pause in their work for a moment, looking at you with renewed interest and excitement.

"No kidding?" Jean says, his tone softening. "That's awesome."

"Yeah, it's one of our favourite shows," Eren admits, though he still looks focused on the task at hand.

Armin nods. "It's true. We watch it together whenever we get the chance."

Sasha grins. "Can you say one of her lines for us?"

You chuckle softly, despite the situation. "Sure. How about, 'This is poison'?"

As you say the line in Maomao's voice, you notice their expressions light up, even in the midst of the storm and chaos. It's a small moment of joy amidst the danger.

"That was perfect!" Sasha exclaims, her grin widening.

"Alright, let's focus," Connie says, though he's smiling too. "Y/N, we're almost there. Just a little longer, okay?"

You nod, doing your best to stay calm as the team works to lift the tree off you. Connie stays by your side the entire time, his presence a comforting anchor.

Finally, with a coordinated effort, they manage to lift the tree just enough for you to be pulled free. Connie gently helps you up, careful not to jostle you too much.

"You did great, Y/N," he says, his tone soft and encouraging. "We're going to get you checked out now, make sure everything's okay."

As they guide you towards the ambulance, you feel a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thank you," you say, looking at each of them. "All of you."

"Just doing our job," Jean says with a smile.

"Yeah, but we've never rescued someone as cool as you before," Sasha adds, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

Connie stays by your side as the paramedics check you over, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. "Hey, Y/N," he says quietly, "when you're feeling better, maybe we could grab a coffee or something? I'd love to hear more about your work."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Are you flirting with me, Connie?"

He grins, unabashed. "Maybe a little. But can you blame me?"

Before you can respond, a stern voice interrupts. "Springer!"

You turn to see a short, intimidating man with dark hair and piercing eyes approaching. He must be the captain.

"Cap," Connie says, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"What's going on here?" Levi demands, his gaze sharp. "I expected this kind of behaviour from Jean, but not from you."

Connie scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry, Cap. But we've never rescued someone as pretty as Y/N before."

Levi's eyes flicker to you, a hint of recognition in them. Before he can say anything, Eren steps forward. "Captain, you know who this is, right? This is Y/N, the voice of Maomao from 'The Apothecary Diaries.'"

Levi's expression softens ever so slightly, though he tries to hide it. "I see."

Jean, Sasha, Eren, and Armin gather around, their excitement palpable. "Y/N, could you say a few more lines from the show?" Jean asks, his eyes bright with anticipation.

"Yeah, please?" Sasha adds, her grin infectious.

You can't help but laugh. "Alright, alright. How about, 'The key to understanding poisons is understanding people'?"

Their reactions are priceless, a mix of awe and joy. Even Levi seems slightly impressed, though he quickly regains his composure.

"Thank you," Armin says, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "That was amazing."

As the paramedics finish up, Connie slips a piece of paper into your hand. "That's my number," he says with a wink. "In case you ever want that coffee."

You smile, tucking the paper into your pocket. "Thanks, Connie. I'll think about it."

Levi clears his throat, giving Connie a pointed look. "Let's get back to work, Springer."

Connie nods, giving you one last smile before turning to join his team. As they head back to the fire truck, you hear Sasha teasing him. "Connie's got a crush!"

"Shut up, Sasha," Connie mutters, though he's grinning.

Maybe, just maybe, you'll take him up on that coffee.

Armin Arlert

You stand on the edge of the bridge, the river flowing ominously below. The cold night air bites at your cheeks as you scan the surroundings, your heart pounding in your chest. You've received a call about a potential jumper, and your instincts are on high alert. Your hand rests on the grip of your gun as you inch closer, eyes searching for any sign of movement.

"Hello?" you call out, your voice echoing slightly. "This is Officer Y/N L/N. Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

Silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity. Just as you're about to take another step forward, you hear a rustling sound. Your training kicks in, and you reach for your radio to call for backup, but before you can do so, a large figure emerges from the shadows and lunges at you. You barely have time to react as you're knocked off balance, your gun slipping from its holster.

"Don't move," a gruff voice growls in your ear, and you feel the cold metal of your own gun pressed against your temple.

You don't need to see his face to recognize him. Reiner Braun, the escaped convict you've been briefed about. The realization sends a jolt of fear through you, but you force yourself to stay calm.

"Well, isn't this just great," you mutter sarcastically. "An ambush. Very creative, asshole."

"Shut up," he snaps, tightening his grip on you. "You're gonna do exactly what I say, or I'll blow your brains out right here."

You grit your teeth, frustration bubbling up inside you. "You're an idiot, you know that? This whole plan of yours is idiotic."

Before he can respond, the sound of sirens fills the air. The fire department has arrived for the reported jumper. You see the flashing lights reflecting off the water below, and a glimmer of hope ignites within you. Help is here.

From the corner of your eye, you spot Captain Levi Ackerman stepping out of the fire truck, followed by Armin Arlert and the rest of the crew. Levi's eyes lock onto yours, and you can see the concern in them, though his face remains stoic.

"Y/N," Levi calls out, his voice steady. "How's it going?"

"Got my own gun to my head, so not great, thanks for asking, Levi," you reply dryly. "While you're here, do you mind giving this oaf a lecture on oral hygiene? His breath is gonna kill me before a bullet."

"Y/N, you fucking idiot! Stop antagonizing him!" Jean yells from behind Levi, his expression a mix of anger and fear.

"Get his bitch ass, Y/N!" Connie shouts, earning a glare from Levi.

Reiner's grip on you tightens, and you can feel his agitation growing. "Shut up, all of you! Or I'll—"

Before he can finish his threat, you take a deep breath and slam the back of your head against his nose with all your might. The impact sends stars dancing across your vision, but it also causes Reiner to loosen his grip on you. You use the moment of distraction to twist out of his grasp, but his hand catches your arm, and you both tumble over the edge of the bridge.

The cold water engulfs you, the shock of it stealing your breath away. You struggle against the current, trying to wrestle Reiner as he thrashes beside you. Your training kicks in, and you manage to land a few solid punches, but he's strong, and the water makes it difficult to gain any leverage.

Suddenly, you see Eren, Levi, and Armin wading into the water, determination etched on their faces. Eren reaches you first, grabbing Reiner by the collar and delivering a punch to his jaw that leaves him momentarily stunned. Levi is next, his movements precise and efficient as he helps you wrestle Reiner into submission. Armin is there too, his hands steady as he assists in securing Reiner's hands behind his back with the cuffs you've managed to retrieve.

As you finally drag Reiner out of the water, panting and shivering, Jean and Sasha rush over with foil blankets. They wrap one around you, and you can feel the warmth seeping into your bones, but the adrenaline still courses through your veins.

"You're a real piece of work, Y/N," Jean mutters as he cleans the cuts on your hands and face.

"Yeah, well, it worked, didn't it?" you reply, wincing as he dabs at a particularly nasty gash.

Connie, ever the joker, grins at you. "Maybe next time we should get you some floaties, huh? Just in case."

You manage a laugh, despite the situation. "I'll keep that in mind, Con."

As the chaos begins to settle, you notice Armin watching you with a mixture of admiration and concern. With Eren's encouragement, he steps forward, his eyes soft but determined.

"Hey, Y/N," Armin begins, his voice gentle. "That was incredibly brave, what you did. Are you alright?"

You nod, still catching your breath. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks for the help, Armin."

He hesitates for a moment before continuing. "I was wondering if maybe, after all this, you'd like to go to a book cafe with me? I know it's a bit sudden, but I thought it might be a nice way to unwind."

You blink in surprise, a smile slowly spreading across your face. "I'd like that, Armin. I'd like that a lot."

Eren claps Armin on the back, grinning. "Told you she'd say yes."

Mikasa Ackerman

The day is supposed to be perfect. The sky is a brilliant blue, the sun is warm against your skin, and you have just finished an exhilarating photo shoot. You get into your car, ready to head home and unwind. Everything seems normal until you start descending the hill towards the river. You press the brake pedal, but instead of slowing down, the car continues to pick up speed. Panic surges through you as you realize the brakes have failed.

The steering wheel shakes violently as you attempt to control the car, but it's no use. The river looms closer, and in a split second, the car breaks through the barrier and plunges into the icy water. The impact jolts you, and water begins to flood into the vehicle. You fumble with your seatbelt, but it's jammed. You scream for help, knowing the chances of someone hearing you are slim. The water rises swiftly, and you feel your hope diminishing with every passing second.

As your car is nearly submerged, you hear the muffled sounds of sirens and see flashing lights through the water. Relief washes over you when you see a figure in a firefighter's uniform wading towards your car. She reaches your window, her eyes locking with yours, and you see a determination that makes you believe you might just survive this.

"Hey, are you okay in there?" the firefighter shouts, her voice barely audible over the roar of the river.

You nod frantically, your eyes wide with fear. She gives you a reassuring smile, her dark hair plastered to her face by the water.

"Hold on! I'm going to get you out of there. What's your name?"

"Y/N!" you shout back, your voice shaking.

"Y/N, I'm Mikasa. Just keep looking at me, okay? We're going to get you out of here." Her voice is steady and calm, a stark contrast to the chaos around you. "You know, you're really pretty, Y/N"

You feel a blush despite the dire situation. Mikasa's words keep you focused as she works on the door, her strong arms straining against the pressure. She mutters to herself, cursing the stubbornness of the vehicle.

Finally, the door gives way, and water rushes in, submerging you completely. You thrash in the cold water, but Mikasa's arms are around you in an instant. She pulls you out of the car with a strength you wouldn't have believed possible.

"Hold on to me!" she commands, her voice firm. You cling to her, your hands trembling from the cold and fear. She swims powerfully towards the shore, where a team of firefighters is waiting. You hear shouts and see the worried faces of Mikasa's colleagues as they help pull you both out of the water.

"Are you alright?" one of them asks, a stern-looking man with piercing eyes. "I'm Captain Levi. Can you tell me if you're hurt?"

"I think I'm okay," you manage to say, your teeth chattering. "Just a cut on my forehead."

Levi examines the cut, his touch surprisingly gentle. "It's not too deep. Let me clean it up and get some sterile strips on it." He moves efficiently, cleaning the wound and applying the strips. Then he wraps you in a foil blanket, the metallic crinkling sound oddly comforting.

As Levi works, Mikasa introduces you to the rest of her team. "That's Eren, my best friend. The blonde over there is Armin. Connie and Sasha are the goofballs of the group. And Jean... well, he's Jean."

Jean and Connie step forward, their eyes wide with excitement. "Oh my God, you're Y/N L/N! We have your posters!" Connie blurts out.

Jean nods vigorously. "Yeah, the Hot Summer Nights shoot was incredible. And the Victoria's Secret Lingerie one—wow!"

Levi shoots them both a stern look and slaps them upside the head. "Be respectful, you two. She's just been through a traumatic experience."

"But Captain, you let us pin the firefighter poster in the station!" Connie protests, rubbing his head.

You can't help but laugh at their antics, despite everything. "Thank you for rescuing me. All of you."

Mikasa smiles at you, her eyes softening. "It's our job, but I'm glad you're okay. By the way, would you like to go out sometime?"

Surprised, you blink at her. "Really? I'd like that."

She grins and, without missing a beat, steals a pen and notepad from Levi's jacket pocket. "Sorry, Captain. Need this for a moment." She scribbles her number down and hands it to you. "Call me."

Levi rolls his eyes but doesn't comment. You take the paper, your fingers brushing against Mikasa's. "I will. Thank you, Mikasa. For everything."

As the team packs up their gear and prepares to leave, Mikasa stays by your side. "We'll get you checked out at the hospital just to be safe. Come on, let's get you warmed up."

She helps you into the ambulance, her presence a steady anchor in the whirlwind of your emotions. You glance at the notepad in your hand, feeling a glimmer of excitement amidst the aftermath of your ordeal. Maybe something good can come out of this terrifying experience after all.

Mikasa sits next to you in the ambulance, her hand gently holding yours. "So, Y/N, how does a famous model end up in a place like this?"

You smile, a bit sheepishly. "Just bad luck, I guess. But I'm glad you were the one to save me."

"Me too," Mikasa says softly, her eyes never leaving yours. "Me too."

Annie Leonhart

You're lounging against the wall of the opulent elevator, tapping your heel against the polished marble floor. The gleaming doors reflect your short black cocktail dress, which fits you perfectly for the big charity event you're supposed to be attending. As an escort for some rich old businessman, your job tonight is to make him look good. But right now, all you can think about is that cigarette break you desperately need.

Just as the elevator starts moving, it jerks violently. You stumble, and your heel snaps. Pain shoots up your leg, and you cry out, collapsing to the floor. The realization hits you—your ankle is broken.

"Great," you mutter to yourself, wincing as you try to shift into a more comfortable position. "This is just peachy."

Minutes pass, and panic starts to set in. You're stuck in an elevator, alone, in pain, and no one knows you're here. You fumble for your phone, but there's no signal. You press the emergency button, hoping it'll bring some help.

It feels like an eternity, but finally, you hear muffled voices and the sound of someone climbing onto the roof of the elevator. A small panel in the ceiling opens, and a blonde head pops through. The firefighter's blue eyes meet yours.

"Hey," she says, her voice calm and soothing. "How are you doing?"

You manage a weak smile. "Peachy keen. Never been better."

She smirks at your sarcasm, clearly appreciating your wit. "I'm Annie. We're gonna get you out of here, alright?"

"Sounds good, Annie. I'd give you a hand, but as you can see, I'm a bit stuck." You gesture to your broken ankle and broken heel, both of which make your current situation even more ridiculous.

Annie descends into the elevator, landing gracefully beside you. She kneels down and examines your ankle with gentle fingers, making you wince. "Definitely broken. We'll get you to the hospital as soon as we're out of here."

You roll your eyes. "Fantastic. And here I thought this night couldn't get any worse."

Annie chuckles. "You've got quite the sense of humour. I like that."

Just as you're starting to feel a bit more at ease, the elevator suddenly lurches. The lights flicker, and you both freeze. "What was that?" you ask, panic creeping into your voice.

Annie looks up, her face serious. "The cable must be unstable. Stay calm."

You don't have time to respond before the cable snaps, and the elevator plunges downward. You let out a scream, grabbing onto Annie as she wraps her arms around you, trying to shield you from the impact. "This is so not elevator death plunge appropriate attire!" you yell over the deafening noise.

Despite the dire situation, you hear Annie laugh. It's a short, genuine sound that somehow makes you feel a little bit better. The elevator crashes into the basement, the impact jarring. Pain flares up in your ankle, and you let out a groan. Annie's grip on you tightens, her body shielding you from the worst of it.

"We're alive," she murmurs, sounding a bit surprised.

"Thank God for small miracles," you reply, breathing heavily.

Not long after, the sound of more voices echoes through the shaft. Two more firefighters rappel down to the ruined elevator. One has a buzz cut and a wide grin, and the other has a longer face and a slightly more serious expression.

"Hey there!" the one with the buzz cut greets cheerfully. "I'm Connie, and this is Jean. We're here to rescue you."

"Thanks, Connie," you say, offering a pained smile. "I'd stand and greet you properly, but, you know..." You wave at your broken ankle.

Jean shakes his head, chuckling. "We'll get you out of here. Just sit tight."

As they work to open the elevator doors, you glance at Annie. "Do me a favour and make sure I don't flash anyone, okay? The dirty old bastard I'm here with did not pay for the peepshow package."

The three firefighters stare at you for a moment before Connie bursts out laughing. "What do you do for work, anyway?"

You give him a sly smile. "People pay for the pleasure of my company."

Connie's eyes widen, and Jean coughs, trying to hide his laughter. Annie just shakes her head, still smirking.

With the doors finally pried open, they carefully lift you out. "We're gonna take you to the hospital," Jean explains. "But first, you said the guy you came here with owes you, right?"

You nod. "Yeah. He owes me my fee."

Annie stands and nods. "I'll find him. Be right back."

As Jean and Connie help you towards the exit, you notice another firefighter waiting outside. He's short with an air of authority, and you recognize him immediately. "Levi! Hi!" you call out, waving with a grin.

Levi raises an eyebrow. "Long time no see Y/N, I heard you broke up with Miche."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Hired me, Levi. He hired me."

Levi's lips twitch into a rare grin, which seems to unsettle Jean and Connie. He pulls out his phone. "Let's take a picture. Miche needs to see this."

You pose with Levi, Jean, Connie, and Annie, who returns just in time with the businessman in tow. Levi snaps the photo and sends it off with a smirk.

"Alright," Levi says, turning to Annie. "Make sure this guy pays her extra for the trouble."

Annie nods, stepping up to the businessman who looks thoroughly uncomfortable. "You're gonna pay her extra compensation for what she went through," she says firmly.

The man gulps and nods hastily. "Of course, of course."

Once everything is settled, you're finally on your way to the hospital. As you're being wheeled out on a stretcher, Annie walks beside you. "You're quite the character, you know that?"

You grin up at her. "I try."

She pauses for a moment, then hands you a piece of paper. "Here's my number. Call me when you're feeling better. Maybe we can go out sometime?"

You take the paper, feeling a flutter of excitement despite the pain. "I'd like that, Annie."

As you're loaded into the ambulance, you watch her through the open doors. She's smiling, and you can't help but feel that maybe this night wasn't so bad after all.

Sasha Braus

The pulsing beat of the music vibrates through the walls of the club, an undercurrent of energy that makes the air feel alive. You're in your element, moving around the stage, eyes flickering to the various patrons who've come for the show. The night's been pretty standard—until now.

You've just finished a particularly energetic routine and stepped offstage to head toward the private rooms. You glance at your phone. Another client, another dollar. But the moment you open the door to the private room, you're confronted with something you never expected—a man holding a large boa constrictor.

You pause at the threshold, mouth slightly agape. "Is that...a snake?"

The man grins, seemingly pleased with your reaction. "Don't worry, sweetheart. It's not venomous."

You force a smile, even as your stomach churns. "Okay, let's just get this over with."

He gestures for you to come closer, but as you approach, the snake's head darts forward and its teeth sink into your ankle. You yelp in pain, instinctively pulling back. The man seems more surprised than concerned, which only adds to your irritation.

"Shit!" You scramble onto a nearby table, your ankle throbbing and blood trickling down. The snake, now agitated, turns its attention to the man who brought it. Before he can react, it's wrapped around his neck, squeezing.

Panicked, you grab your phone. "Hello? Emergency services? I'm at Angel's Paradise. A boa constrictor just bit me and now it's strangling some fucking idiot in a private room. Please hurry."

It feels like an eternity before you hear the telltale sounds of the fire department's sirens. You stay perched on the table, cradling your injured ankle, and trying to ignore the growing chaos in the room below.

Moments later, the door bursts open and a group of firefighters rushes in. You recognize some of them—Connie, Jean, and Eren are regulars at the club. But tonight, they're here in full gear, ready to save the day.

"Y/N!" Connie calls out, eyes scanning the room until he spots you on the table. "Are you okay?"

You manage a weak smile. "Another day, another fucking idiot. Seriously, who brings a snake to a strip club?"

Jean steps forward, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. "Here, take this." He lifts you off the table with ease, and you quickly find yourself hiding behind him, the comfort of his presence grounding you.

Eren eyes the man struggling with the snake and smirks. "Should we, uh, help him?"

You peek out from behind Jean. "Can't we just let the guy get strangled? He wasted my time and now I'm bleeding."

A new voice cuts through the conversation. "I wish we could," Levi, the captain, says dryly as he enters the room. His eyes are sharp, taking in the situation with an air of disapproval. "But we're here to save lives, unfortunately."

Your attention is drawn to the new firefighter who steps forward to check on your ankle. She's got a friendly face, framed by brown hair and warm, empathetic eyes. "Hi, I'm Sasha. Let me see that bite."

You wince as she gently examines the wound. "Looks like it took a chunk out of you. We'll get you patched up."

Sasha's touch is gentle but sure, and despite the pain, you find yourself oddly comforted. She finishes bandaging your ankle and looks up at you with a smile. "You okay? Want something to eat? I've got some snacks in the truck."

Before you can respond, the snake suddenly lunges for you again. "Fuck no!" you shout, darting out of the room with surprising speed, even in your heels. The firefighters exchange impressed looks.

"Did you see how fast she ran?" Eren laughs.

Levi nods, impressed. "And in heels. Didn't even snap her ankle."

Sasha grins. "Did you see the way her boobs bounced? Damn."

Jean chuckles. "Why do you think we're regulars?"

Eren agrees, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Yeah, she's the main attraction."

You're still wearing Jean's firefighter jacket as you limp back into the room, feeling slightly more composed. Sasha approaches you again, concern etched on her face. "Hey, you did great back there. Seriously. Are you sure you're okay?"

You nod, though the adrenaline is still coursing through your veins. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just...what a night."

Sasha smiles, pulling a small card from her pocket and handing it to you. "Here's my number. In case you need anything. Or, you know, if you ever want to hang out."

You take the card, a small smile playing on your lips. "Thanks, Sasha. I might just do that."

Connie, overhearing, nudges Sasha with a grin. "So, you gonna join us next time we come here?"

Sasha laughs, shaking her head. "Only if Y/N is working."

Jean turns to Levi with a grin. "What about you, Captain? You gonna join us?"

Levi's expression is as stern as ever. "Piss off, Jean."

Historia Reiss

The bus ride starts off as any other ordinary day for you and your twin brother, Megumi. You're on your way home, chatting casually and occasionally glancing out the window. The bus is moderately full, a mix of commuters and students, some dozing off, others absorbed in their phones or conversations.

You and Megumi have always had a dark sense of humour, a coping mechanism that has seen you through tough times. But nothing could prepare you for the sudden, violent jolt that sends the bus careening off the road. The world spins, screams fill the air, and then everything goes black.

When you come to, you're disoriented and in pain. The bus has flipped, and you're trapped under what you quickly realize are the bodies of other passengers. The weight pressing down on you is immense, and the stench of blood and something worse fills your nostrils.

You shift slightly, wincing at the pain from a gash on your forehead and a cut running from your cheekbone across your nose. Megumi is next to you, his face smeared with blood from a cut on his cheek and one in his eyebrow. Despite the dire situation, your gallows humour kicks in.

"I think the guy that's on top of me eats for a living," you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

Megumi groans softly as he corrects you. "Ate for a living."

You can't help but chuckle, though it quickly turns into a wince of pain. "God, this guy fucking stinks. Not only is he squashing me, he smells too."

Megumi snorts, which sounds more like a pained wheeze. "Probably didn't bathe much. Figures our luck to get stuck under the smelly ones."

You manage a laugh, though it's more out of desperation than amusement. "Well, if I'm gonna die, at least I'm going out with a good story. 'Death by smelly fat guy.'"

The weight of the bodies pressing down on you and Megumi is almost unbearable. Your breaths come in short, painful gasps, each one a struggle against the crushing mass. The dark humour you and your brother share is your only lifeline, a fragile thread keeping you from succumbing to despair.

"You know," you manage to say between wheezing breaths, "I always thought I'd die in some dramatic, heroic way. Not suffocating under a pile of corpses."

Megumi, his face smeared with blood, chuckles weakly. "Yeah, like saving a kitten from a burning building or something. Instead, it's 'Crushed by Smelly McFatso and Friends.'"

"Holy shit, Megumi," you groan, shifting slightly to alleviate the pressure on your chest. "You have a way with words."

"Hey, it's a gift," he replies, his voice strained.

Minutes feel like hours, every second dragging as you fight for each breath. The sounds of chaos outside the bus filter through, but they feel distant, almost unreal. Sirens, shouted orders and the hiss of extinguishers are faint background noise compared to the oppressive reality of your situation.

"Think we'll make the evening news?" you wheeze, trying to keep your voice light.

Megumi manages a weak chuckle. "Maybe they'll call it 'Bus Tragedy: Two Survivors and a Smelly Fatso.'"

"Hey, give the guy some respect," you retort, grimacing in pain. "He's our ticket to fame."

Outside, the firefighters work frantically, pulling bodies from the wreckage. Their faces are grim as they navigate the twisted metal and shattered glass. Levi, the captain, directs the efforts with a steely gaze. He's seen a lot in his career, but the sheer devastation of this scene is heart-wrenching.

Jean hauls a body out, his expression hardening as he glances back into the bus. "How many more, Captain?"

Levi doesn't answer immediately, his attention caught by the faint sound of laughter coming from inside the wreckage. It's so out of place, so bizarre amidst the carnage, that it takes him a moment to process it.

"Do you hear that?" Connie asks, pausing beside Levi.

Levi nods, frowning. "Yeah, I hear it. Keep pulling bodies out. Do not judge them for laughing, they're probably in shock and trying to cope"

The team works with renewed urgency, driven by the faint but unmistakable sound of laughter. As they pull away more debris, the source becomes clearer. Two young adults, battered and bloodied, are trapped under a pile of bodies, holding hands and exchanging dark jokes to cope.

"If I don't make it, tell Mom I went out fighting Smelly McFatso," Megumi says, his voice a strained whisper.

"Megumi, Mom's dead," you remind him, managing a pained smile.

"Then tell her when you see her," he replies, coughing.

"Hey, maybe she's got a comfy spot saved for us," you retort, trying to keep the mood light as the firefighters work frantically around you. "Hopefully not next to our new friend, though."

"Oh God, please no," Megumi groans, wincing as another piece of debris is moved, relieving some of the pressure on his legs. "I'd rather haunt the bus station."

"You know," you say, wincing as a particularly heavy body is lifted off you, "if this is the afterlife, it seriously needs a redesign."

Megumi chuckles weakly, his voice strained. "Yeah, I was expecting more clouds and harps, fewer dead bodies and stink."

Levi, who's now close enough to hear you, shakes his head with a faint smile. "Just hold on a bit longer. We're almost there."

"Hey," Megumi gasps, "think we can get a refund on this bus ride?"

Levi doesn't miss a beat. "I'll see what I can do."

"If we get out of here, I'm leaving a review," You mutter. "Zero stars, do not recommend, may be crushed by corpses"

Megumi snorts, squeezing your hand as the firefighters work above you. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the last of the debris is lifted, and you and Megumi are gently pulled free. The fresh air hits you like a blessing, though it's tainted with the scent of smoke and blood. You take a deep breath, savouring the relief despite the pain.

As the rescuers help you to safety, a horde of news anchors and journalists surge towards you, shouting invasive questions. The chaos is overwhelming, their voices blending into a cacophony of noise. You and Megumi, dazed and in pain, try to shield your faces from the relentless flashes of cameras.

"Are you the only survivors?"

"How do you feel right now?"

"Can you describe what happened?"

You wince as a particularly aggressive reporter shoves a microphone into your face. "How does it feel to be covered in other people's blood?"

Before you can respond, another reporter grabs Megumi by the arm. "What were your last words to each other, thinking you were going to die?"

"Get the fuck off me!" Megumi snaps, trying to pull away, but the reporter's grip is firm.

Jean, Connie, and Levi quickly move to shield you both, pushing back the reporters. "Back off!" Jean yells, his face set in a hard line. "Give them some space!"

Connie places a hand on your shoulder, guiding you away from the chaos. "Let's get you to the medics," he says gently, his concern evident despite the tough exterior.

As you're led away, the rude comments continue to fly. "Those cuts are going to leave some nasty scars," one reporter sneers. "Real shame for such young faces."

Another reaches out, trying to grab you again, but Levi steps in, his expression thunderous. "I said back off!" His authoritative tone finally makes the crowd of journalists hesitate.

You and Megumi are ushered to a nearby ambulance where Historia and Eren are waiting with first aid kits. Historia's face is a mask of calm as she carefully cleans the gash on your forehead, her touch gentle but firm.

"These are going to leave scars," she says softly, meeting your eyes with a kind yet serious expression. "But they'll heal well with time."

Eren is working on Megumi, dabbing at the cut on his cheek and eyebrow with careful precision. "You'll look tough with these scars," he says. "Chicks dig scars, right?"

Megumi chuckles weakly. "Not exactly my demographic."

As Eren finishes, he gives Megumi a thoughtful look. "You know, once you're feeling better... would you like to go out sometime? Maybe grab a coffee?"

Megumi blinks, momentarily taken aback. "You're asking me out? Now?"

Eren shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. "Life's short. Why not?"

Megumi laughs, the sound lighter than it's been since the crash. "Alright, why not? Coffee sounds good."

You watch the exchange with a faint smile, feeling a strange sense of normalcy returning. Historia finishes tending to your wounds and stands back, her eyes lingering on your face.

"You know," she begins, her tone slightly hesitant but hopeful, "I think you're incredibly brave. And I'd love to get to know you better. Maybe we could go out sometime, too?"

You're surprised but pleasantly so. "Are you asking for my number?" you ask, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite the pain.

"Yes, I am," Historia replies, her own smile warm and genuine. "What do you say?"

"I'd like that," you respond, feeling a spark of something hopeful and new amidst the chaos of the day.

[aoiveaeart]

What the sea tide brings, and whatever that may come [fog over my skin]

Beyond the marmoris and the cold breeze of her hips, I carve a poem off her breath [sea foam against rain]

Held me into your benthic arms, daughter of the waves, pour my love into the sea [breath safe and adored from it]

For there will never be something as tender as the sun anchored to her sea

- Anchor (Siren AU)

Have you notice? The titles of the seven chapters of Anchor form a poem!

This is an extract from the bonfire dance scene in Chapter 3 of Anchor, now up on AO3! (X)

[generalluxun]

Half-Baked, An ML fanfiction.

So this comes out of my 'Chloe goes back in time' AU. set after she's stolen the black cat Miraculous, but before the repercussions of that have really gone full swing.

This AU came about mostly from asks, so the tag can be searched on my blog for getting up to date on our collective ramblings for it.

Super short Summary: Post S5 Chloe goes back in time into her Origins-timeframe body. She is angry at everyone and everything. She gets herself akumatized early on and steals the Cat Miraculous from Cat Noir(who wasn't taking things seriously, it's S1) Seeing it's Adrien she freaks, breaks akumatization and runs off before Ladybug arrives. Adrien is keeping who stole it a secret(though he tells LB he lost it) hoping he can get it back himself to make up for losing it.

Fic is under the cut because it is 4172 words. I'll also be posting it on AO3 tomorrow.

With the smell of fresh baked goodies taunting her nostrils, Marinette dodged between racks laden with hot trays and mixing bowls of fresh dough. She was already late for school, but seeing her parents frantically running around made her pause.

“Dad?”

Tom flashed her a big smile but immediately turned and fled into the back. Her mother turned from where she was scooping still-warm pastries off cooling trays and into boxes too soon. “Honey, your father and I are very busy today. A large catering order came in unexpectedly. It was extremely short notice, but you know your father.”

Marinette couldn’t help but puff up a little, “It’s the Egyptian opening at the Lourve, right?”

Sabine paused. “Why, yes honey. How did you-”

Marinette gushed, “I knew dad was bummed about missing out on it, so yesterday I took a few freshly baked pastries over to the museum before school. I managed to find a way back to the curator’s offices and wouldn’t leave until he tried one. You should have seen the look on his face! ‘Young lady I think that is the best confection I have ever tasted.’ It looks like it was worth being an hour late.”

Marinette froze mid-pantomime. Her story had run away with her again, perhaps to a few places her mother didn’t exactly need to know.

Whatever Sabine’s thoughts, she kept a gently serene face. “That’s… very clever dear. Only… perhaps you could ask before helping next time? This really is such short notice.”

Marinette winced. “Is it really? I could help! I can just call in sick, then I would be able to-”

Rushing back towards the kitchen, Marinette snagged her foot on one of the giant mixing bowls. She tripped and collapsed into it as it spun, coming to rest blinking up into her mother’s even more concerned looking face. Sabine reached down and helped Marinette extract herself, brushing some wayward flour dust off her backside.

“No, no, that’s quite alright, dear. Your father and I will handle it. It’s not as if sleep is necessary every night. On your way now. You don’t want to be late, again.”

That last word carried the only hint of maternal reprimand, but it was enough. Marinette let herself be ushered out the door. On the way to school she managed to convince herself everything would be okay. It would be fine. It wasn’t the end of the-

The Agreste Limo pulled up in front of the steps to the school, and ‘end of the world' took on new meaning. Adrien got out, but his walk up the steps had none of its usual spring. Even knowing the truth, it was hard for Marinette to overlap the image of him with Cat Noir. Hard, and maybe a moot point.

Marinette shook herself. No. Not a moot point. We will get the ring back. I will get it back. Anyone can make a mistake. She hop-stepped to catch up with Adrien and gave him her biggest smile, “Morning, Adrien!”

He might not know it, but he’d helped her become Ladybug. Now it was up to her to return the favor.

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

Time was not on Marinette’s side though. Not even half the day had gone by when the school shook as if in an earthquake. Sirens sounded in the distance. Alya had her phone open to a news cast before anyone else even had theirs out.

“-eaking News. A giant man…monster…thing… has once again been sighted in downtown Paris. Police are on their way, but as we approach the presumed akuma I have to wonder, what can they hope to do? Will Ladybug and Cat Noir show up once again to save our fair city?”

Nadja’s voice rose clearly from the tiny screen. Marinette couldn’t make out the akuma clearly as the helicopter circled though. All at once the helicopter lurched.

Nadja turned to ask someone off screen, “What’s that smell?”

The camera jostled, the helicopter lurched again, and the image went dark.

Marinette jumped up, “We have to do something!”

“Do something?” Kim blurted out from the back before anyone else. “Ivan got turned into a giant monster and almost turned half the class into crepes! What are you gonna do? …No offense big guy.”

Marinette heard Ivan mumble something even as she watched Adrien’s shoulders slump in front of her. She had to think fast. “What am I gonna do? I’m gonna go to the bathroom! Can’t think on a full bladder, right? Haha. Ms. Bustier can I go please?”

Another rumble shook the entire classroom.

Nino scrambled to his feet, “It sounds like there won’t be a bathroom to go to pretty soon.”

Ms Bustier raised her voice clearly but gently, “Alright class, everyone out. We rendezvous at the park. Stay with your seatmates.”

Sorry Alya. Marinette bolted for the door.

It wasn’t until she set eyes on the akuma that Ladybug’s forebrain took control back from her reflexes. Fear grabbed ahold of her and queasiness dropped her on unsteady legs on the nearest rooftop. The akuma was huge, topping even stoneheart. It was visible head and shoulders above the rowhouses. The only saving grace was a strange familiarity. It was dressed like a baker, complete with toque on its head and giant wooden peel in its hands.

The combination of silliness and fear forced a nervous giggle from her lips. The giggle reminded her that she was alone this time, her partner couldn’t help her. That sealed her lips once more with fear. It’s all up to me, alone.

Doomsday scenarios pressed into her thoughts even as the akuma strode on in the distance. What’s its power? Why is it here? What is the item? Where is it go-

Ladybug’s brain did the math and drew the line from the akuma right through the school towards… Our bakery!

She was in motion instantly, vaulting two streets closer. She was crouched for another leap when her senses shoved another fact through her emotions. Screams.

Screams weren’t surprising, but the tone was wrong. The akuma swung its peel and something scattered below it. If only for a cat’s sight. Screams of fear turned to joy then fell silent.

Ladybug balked again. She had to think. Emotion wanted her to act, but she couldn’t afford to be wrong. How close could she get? The akuma moved on and she followed from a distance, trying to pick up any clues she could. How close is too close? The akuma plowed through a building in its way. More screams of fear, a swing of its peel and fear turned to joy then silence again.

She needed to get closer. But-

Ladybug was stuck.

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

“Go away!” Chloé stalked across the square, away from the class.

Sabrina trotted after her. “But, Chloé… we’re seatmates! We’re supposed to stick together.”

Chloé spun around and screamed, “Stick together? Is that what you call it? You sure didn’t stick with me when I needed it! Save me the trouble and go play with your new friends right now. Go!”

She jabbed a finger over Sabrina’s shoulder, but didn’t wait to see the results of her outburst. Her stomach felt hollow and sick. Her fingers tingled and her eyes itched. She wanted to scream until she ran out of air, but that hadn’t done any good before.  So instead she was getting away from the others as fast as she could. Chloé jogged across the street from the park and was around a corner in seconds. Sabrina didn’t call after her again.

For some stupid reason that made the sickness in her stomach worse.

Chloé stalked blindly, immune to the cracking of masonry and the heavy tread that threatened to knock her off her feet. Out of her tunnel vision a single figure resolved in the distance. Red, spotted, standing still on a rooftop. Ladybug.

She was just…standing there. The crunch of another building rang out but the hero didn’t move. “DO SOMETHING!” Chloé howled at her, unheard.

She hated Ladybug. Ladybug was lame. Ladybug was a loser. Ladybug was a failure. Ladybug was a traitor. Ladybug… was a hero. Ladybug was supposed to be saving the day. The thoughts rattled around and fought until Chloé squeezed her eyes shut and dug her nails into her hair in frustration.

With a sudden clarity Chloé’s eyes snapped open again. She whipped a hand around in front of her. “You! Come out now!”

The black cat kwami sparked into existence, anger evident on his tiny features.

“Tell me how to transform!” she demanded.

He crossed his arms smugly and replied, “hmmm Mm mffm Hmm.”

Chloé growled, “Talk! You can talk! Tell me!”

The Kwami gasped but still grinned, “That’s the one thing you can’t order me to do, Miraculous or no.”

“Rrraaaaaggh!” Chloé pointed at the distant Ladybug, “She’s not doing anything. Tell me the password or we’re doomed!”

Plagg crossed his little arms, “Give me back to my rightful holder, and she’ll have a partner again.”

Chloé stomped her foot, “No! I can do this! I know what to do better than any of them do right now! I’m the hero!”

Pagg seemed unimpressed. He rolled his eyes,”You? Nobody would make you a hero. What would you even do with a miraculous?”

Chloé's world narrowed again,to a haze of red with a floating black blob in the center. She advanced on him, “I’ll cataclysm the stupid  akuma. I’ll cataclysm stupid Hawkmoth. I’ll cataclysm everyone and everything that gets in my way. No one will take you away and nothing will stop me this time.”

She was seething. Memories of disappointment, failure, and humiliation broke down into the core emotions and blended into a hateful spiral. She waited for the next barb to come, but instead Plagg’s green eyes turned towards her with a spark of devilish curiosity in them.

“Really?” he drew the word out, “That just might be interesting to see.” One fingerless hand thrust at her face. “Don’t think I’m out of tricks though. You just watch yourself.  It’s ‘Plagg, Claws out.’”

Emotion spoke before thought could form, “Plagg, Claws out!”

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

The akuma waded through the remains of the school and Ladybug knew she had to act. The bakery was at hand, and though she couldn’t see from back here, she could just imagine her father standing out front with a rolling pin. She still didn’t have a plan. She hadn’t risked getting close enough to get a good look. It had seemed prudent, but a nagging voice whispered she might just be too scared on her own. Had Cat No- Adrien been brave enough for both of them?

She tensed for a leap, but a sound like a thunderbolt stopped her. A black blur streaked at the akuma. It struck clean, staggering the giant, and clung before scuttling across the akuma’s bulk.

Ladybug was airborne before she had time to doubt. The blur had resolved into a person, a cat person. Her foolish heart leapt for a moment at the impossible idea her partner might have returned. No- it wasn't him. This person darted and leapt from point to point, tearing at the akuma. Buttons, hat, pockets were all ripped and torn. The akuma reeled and swatted at the attacker. One meaty hand connected and sent the black-clad fighter into the pavement in an impressive crater. Ladybug didn’t even have time to gasp before the fighter leapt from the cracked road and was back in the fight.

Ladybug landed, still one block away. In part she was still gathering information, in part she wasn’t sure how to engage with that black buzzsaw in motion. She had time now, her partn-

The other fighter was buying her time.

Ladybug was still trying to understand the ferocity of the assault. The -Ladybug mentally decided on cat hero just to organize her thoughts- was fended off time and again, taking blows that had to hurt. They were -she was- was relentless though, rebounding from being knocked clean through nearby buildings.The akuma’s apron fluttered to the ground like a torn parachute.

It clicked, akumatized object!, just as the akuma found space to swing its bakery peel. This time Ladybug could discern pastries showering down from the end of it. The cat hero was crouched for another leap but instead raised her head and sniffed the air. She reoriented herself and pounced… the confections.

Ladybug had her info. She raised her yo-yo, “Lucky Charm!”

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

The smell was irresistible. Chloé dove at the showering pastries, and she wasn’t the only one. Civilians swarmed out from everywhere, her classmates among them. Each and every one scrambled for the treats. There was no stopping it. Chloé bit down on a tart even as she scooped up half a dozen croissants. That she was aware of the compulsion made it worse. She growled around oozing jam and ground her teeth on buttery crust.

The too familiar feeling of helplessness was poison in her veins. Control, she needed to have some kind of control. She couldn’t stop so she pushed in the other direction. She crammed her mouth full until her jaw ached and she could barely breathe. It worked! She had a muffin in each hand but she could move freely again.

She launched herself at the akuma again.

A patch, no. A giant thermometer, no. She broke and broke. The muffins were goo, smashed against her palms. She couldn’t breathe but she wouldn’t stop.

Wouldn’t. Did. She bent double while crouching for another jump. Trying to inhale had dragged a chunk of her food-muzzle into her throat. She choked, coughed, heaved, choked again, and gasped for air. Her stomach twisted around the magical treats she’d already swallowed and dropped her to her knees.

Ziiiiip *thwip*

She was wrapped in a too-familiar away, airborne, grabbed, thumped on the back. She was spun again, free, something was shoved up her nose. Her overstimulated senses finally managed to focus. Her vision focused. Ladybug stood before her, with a tissue box in hand and polkadot tissues up each nostril.

Chloé hissed, “What do you think you're doing?”

“Saving you!” Ladybug grabbed her arm, “What do you think you are doing?”

Chloé pulled free and snarled, “He’s got an akumatized item on him somewhere, I’ll find it.”

Ladybug reached for her, “Do you have any idea what it is?”

Chloé recoiled and scanned. The akuma had turned away from them. It looked over the Dupain-Cheng bakery of all things. A petty part of her wanted to let it smash the place. That part of her became one more thing to be angry at.

She bared her teeth over her shoulder. “No, but I’m not the kind of hero who stands around doing nothing.”

She vaulted away with a protest lost in her wake. She landed and jumped again, elation mixing with rage. Her claws scored the doughy skin on the back of the akuma’s neck, checking the downward bakery-dooming swing of his peel. He swung it at her instead, showering her with sugary bait that no longer had any power over her. Her mouth was open, panting as a part of her breathing. What next? She picked a target and broke it. Then another, and another.

“The peel! Destroy the peel!” Ladybug’s voice rang in her ears.

Ladybug was a loser and probably wrong, but that wooden peel sure was big and this sure would be fun… “Cataclysm!”

She met the akuma’s swing with an outstretched hand. A grove’s worth of wood turned to powder at her touch. The butterfly flew free.

*Thwip* -snap- Ladybug caught and purified it. The akuma shrank to a befuddled looking baker. Chloé stood victorious in the center of a wasteland of violence and destruction.

Elation beat out anger, for just a moment. She threw her head back, spread her arms and, “Raaaaaaaaaaaaaggggghhhhhh!”

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

The primal scream from right beside her made Ladybug cringe and fumble the lucky charm she had been about to toss into the air. Once she recovered herself the fact that the crisis had passed gave her a moment to actually evaluate her erstwhile companion. Evaluate, and remember that she was not a partner, she was a thief.

A ragged looking thief. Her blonde hair -did the cat miraculous make the user blonde?- was a voluminous mane down her back, bedecked with black metal hooks and barbs throughout. She turned post scream to give Ladybug a maniacal grin, revealing her needle-like fangs in place of incisors. Her heterochromatic eyes, one blue and one green, were feline as Cat Noir's had been, and her pupils were currently giant black moons swimming in color. 

“What are you looking at, Ladybum?” The thief drawled, raising the hand still dusted with cataclysm remains and flexing her fingers slowly.

Her gloved fingers ended in wicked looking black ‘claws’. She wore black leather, that much remained consistent too, but her V-neck collar was torn, not tailored.  Lastly, in place of Chat’s amusing belt-tail she had a razor thin wire wrapped around her waist with a heavy cat's paw pendant hanging from the end.

Ladybug narrowed her eyes, “You stole Cat Noir’s miraculous.”

The thief turned her hand, revealing the paw print ring with three toes left. “Finders keepers.”

Ladybug swapped hands and spun her yo-yo up, “Give it back.”

“No!” The thief lunged, catching Ladybug’s yo-yo mid-spin.

Ladybug countered, wrapping her line around the other girl’s arm ensnaring her. The thief’s other hand went for Ladybug’s neck. Ladybug blocked the lunge with the remaining length of her string, but the other girl’s palm pressed within scant centimeters. They were locked taut. Whoever gave ground would lose.

Those wild eyes were narrowed to slits. No akuma had ever scared Ladybug this badly. The anger melted from those features but the fingers still stretched for Ladybug’s throat. Ladybug felt a prick against her skin. “It has to be a pun, doesn’t it? Of course it does. Call me… Purrge. I’m going to turn Hawkmoth to dust, and anyone in my way.”

Ladybug strained. Her own anger fueled a push that took Purrge’s claws from her skin. “You’re crazy! I’m taking that ring back. You don’t deser-”

*Chirp* *chirp*

The overlapping sounds cut across the tension. Purrge’s eyes darted to Ladybug’s earrings. Ladybug’s were drawn to Purrge’s ring. Her mind raced. Has it been three or four?

Purrge’s lips curled into a sharp fanged grin, “You used yours first. You think you can take me down in time?”

Ladybug wanted to, oh she ached to, but there was more riding on this than personal satisfaction, but how to- A very slight easing of the pressure against her line; was it a ceasefire? Ladybug took a chance.

She pulled back, letting the line go slack. No claws cut off her breath. She didn’t wait. She scooped up the lucky charm and turned, “This isn’t over!  Miraculous Ladybugs!”

Ladybug tossed the charm even as she began her swing. Triumphant cackling bubbled up behind her. She didn’t look back. Paris rebuilt itself as Ladybug swung further away, seeking out a quiet spot and settling for behind a dumpster.

Marinette burst from the shadow of the dumpster at a run. If she got back quick enough maybe she could catch a glimpse. Maybe there would be a clue. Maybe she could get her partner back.

There wasn’t, and she couldn’t. Not yet at least. All that awaited her was the rest of the class. Alya almost knocked her over, grousing and shaking her by the shoulders while delivering a friendly but stern dressing down. At least she wasn’t the only one gone. Chloé had unsurprisingly run off and still wasn’t back. It took some of the heat off at least.

A few of the class, plus her parents, were gathered around a baker who sat head in hands on the curb. Marinette recognized him immediately, from even before the akuma. She scooted into the semi-circle.

“Mssr. Levure?”

He looked up in confusion.

Marinette gave him a guilty smile, “I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

She saw surprise, anger, then guilt pass over his features.

She continued, “I’m sorry. I think I’m at least partly responsible for all this. I convinced the curator to switch bakeries. I just wanted to help my family… but I didn’t stop to think about how doing it this way would impact them, or you. I know my dad and he’ll run himself into the ground to do all this work. Not only that but our bakery will probably be closed so he can do it. All our other customers will suffer.”

Marinette looked at her parents, who watched her with proud curiosity. She looked back to Mssr. Levure.

“Maybe… both bakeries can share the catering? I’ll make signs. We can promote both and have an even better, more varied selection for our guests. Would that be okay?”

Marinette held her breath. Mssr. Levure, her dad, and her mom held one of those ‘glance and head tilt’ conversations adults so often did. Then he stood and brushed his hands off before holding one out to Tom. “A temporary partnership?”

Tom shook hands, smiling. “Done.”

A small cheer erupted from the half dozen onlookers, and Marinette had the satisfaction of righting at least one wrong today. Still, there was one other… She looked around and spotted Adrien sitting by himself.

“What a day huh?” She announced her presence.

She might be right next to him, but he was still sitting far apart. “Did you see? Ladybug’s got a new partner.”

“Partner?! Oh no no, that’s not what it looked like to me at all. More like a new enemy, or a stray cat, or an enemy cat, or a stray enemy. There’s no way Ladybug would just replace her partner.”

Adrien turned to face her for the first time. The hope on his face was heartbreaking. “You really think so?”

Marinette fidgeted. Instinct said he needed a hug, but, but… he was… and she was…  Nervous laughter bubbled up without warning, “Ha! Sure sure No way! Oh look! It’s Alya! No one knows Ladybug like her. She runs the Ladyblog! Why don’t we go ask her together? I’m sure she’ll know! Come on!”

She waved her arms frantically to signal Alya, kicking herself internally the entire time.

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

On a rooftop balcony nearby Purrge landed hard. What should have been a hero landing turned into a stumble, a stagger, and a few lurching steps. A flash of green enveloped her, then Chloé collapsed face first onto the pavement.

Plagg zipped in a wide loop through the air, “What a debut! I think you broke three whole blocks before Ladybug put it all back together. Crack! Boom! That was fun, and you still beat the akuma, so Master Fu can’t yell at me!”

Chloé’s persistently prone repose caught his attention.

“Kid? Kid?”

He floated over, sitting atop her head, no response.  He turned an ear down against her skull, then floated to her back to do the same.

“Tsk, You gotta let the timer run out when it wants to, kid. You’re still pretty small.”

This got a response. The fingers of one of Chloé’s hands curled into a white knuckled fist for the space of a breath before uncurling again.

Plagg hmphed.

A CCTV camera, set up for security footage but never watched, recorded something odd that day.  The blanket from Chloe’s bed lifted itself by a single point and dragged itself out to the balcony(after one of the balcony doors mysteriously rotted off its hinges) The blanket was spread haphazardly over the recumbent heiress.

A little later the trashcan in the suite tipped itself over, and trash began emptying itself onto the floor.

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

“Master Please! Calm, Master! Here, your beads.” Wayzz hovered nervously with the prayer bracelet in his hands.

“Calm? Calm!” Master Fu paced between the gramophone that hid the miracle box and the small TV in his room. He would stare at the TV, then go reach for the gramophone, then pace back to the TV.

When he turned to Wayzz his face looked pained and afraid, not angry. He pointed at the TV, “How can I be calm when… that?!”

Frozen on the TV was a still frame of Ladybug and a Black Cat wielder who was obviously not Cat Noir, locked in a struggle.

“The Cat Miraculous is out there in an unknown holder’s hands. It could be in danger. The Ladybug could be in danger. If Hawkmoth were to get his hands on the Ladybug…”

He went back to the gramophone again and laid his hands atop it,

“We must get it back. We must be careful, but we cannot delay. Ladybug will need help in the meantime, someone she can rely on, a power that can aid her when there are so many variables in play.”

“Master, do you mean…?”

Fu keyed in the secret combination to open the antique player, and reached for the Miracle Box hidden within. “Yes Wayzz, him.”

[mvltisstuff]

Hi! I was wondering if could do an Eddie Diaz request.

eddie meets reader at a hospital when the 118 drop a victim off because she’s a doctor there. she’s a new attending and as he comes more and more they get closer with each visit and she asks him out. they’ve been dating a few months when the hospital goes on lockdown and he gets a call from the reader. she’s crying as she says her goodbyes and that’s all i can think of but happy ending please 🥺😁

falling in reverse - e.d

summary: request

eddie diaz x reader

a/n: this got pretty deep… this is also inspired by the hospital shooting episodes of greys anatomy, which were written so well. please note this and decide if you want to continue because this is not just something that happens in tv. it’s talked about in the media but there is not nearly enough change that needs to be happening. be aware of the resources in your area and stay. educated. thank you for the request, love 🩶

the whole team arrives back to the station after a quick call. bobby came out of the passengers seat as everyone else came out of the back, putting their gear back up and heading upstairs. eddie runs his hands back down his pockets, checking to make sure the small box was still inside. he opens it up and is bombarded with the shine of the bright diamond that is sat inside the velvet.

he smiles at the thought of it, finally being ready to say those 4 quick, but massive words. he’s been preparing himself and even christopher, and he decided he was ready. there’s no one he wants more than y/n. he completely cherished her inside and out, making sure to admire every single part of her. every time he thought about her the butterflies fluttered in his stomach like he was back in middle school. he couldn’t imagine a more perfect outcome than her being in his arms every night. eddie has struggled immensely with relationships and connections after losing shannon, feeling like everything he touches just disintegrates through his fingers. he knew the first time he saw her that it wasn’t just quick fling, it was intensely love swimming over him.

eddie sped through the streets to pull up the the ER entrance with his, hens, and chimneys patient in the back. he had been severely bleeding from his abdomen and had to be extracted from a burning workplace.

eddie turned the sirens off, climbed out the drivers seat, and yanked open the back doors of the ambulance. he unlocked the wheels of the gurney and helped to pull it down. the flood of nurses came rushing out along with several different doctors in trauma scrubs.

one doctor came following out, pulling her hair back and tying it up as she slid her blue gloves on. “what do we got?” she asks.

“tyler rodrigues, male, 32,” eddie starts saying. “probable internal bleeding and third degree burns on lower extremities, BPs stable.

“alright, get him into trauma two, page plastics and ortho, sanchez, get that ultrasound up and running immediately!” she says, handing out demands to the interns in different colored scrubs.

eddie definitely is not the type of guy to take an interest of someone when he’s working or worse- when they’re both working. but the way she handled herself and the way she spoke to those patients had him in a trance. she was also beautiful, her hair fell perfectly around her face and she moved around so gracefully.

she walked out of the sliding doors of the trauma room, discarding her covering gown and sauntered over to the three first responders at the front desk. hen elbows eddie in his ribs, “careful, diaz, she’s coming this way.”

“w-what?” he mumbles and looks back to see her making her way over with a smile on her face.

“just act normal.”

“chimney…” she begins, and chim pulls her into a hug. “how is everything, you feeling good?”

“no stab wounds, no rebar, i’m living the life,” chimney smiles and pulls away as hen whispers to eddie.

“she was his surgeon when he got hurt,” hen informs.

“and i cant forget about miss henrietta wilson!” she comes over and wraps her arms around her. they exchange quick conversation about their lives, karen and denny. “and diaz?”

eddie’s face drops and he swears he’s as red as a tomato. he doesn’t remember ever meeting her, even when chimney was stabbed by doug. “yeah, ha-have we met?”

“no, not properly,” y/n tells him. “i saw your name tag,” she says with a bright smile and eddie blushes a little. he thought he grew out of the awkward crush stage, but guess not.

“right,” he laughs. “eddie diaz, 118.”

“dr. y/n y/l/n, it’s nice to finally speak to you,” she slips out. “or meet you! sorry, i’ve just seen you come in a few times.”

“don’t worry about it,” he grins and they all look down at the prominent beeping noise coming from her waistband.

“well, i have a surgery so i’ll see you guys later?” they all nod and begin to turn away. “nice seeing you, eddie.”

eddie trails behind the partners, with a small smirk on his face. “oh he’s got it bad,” hen says.

“that woman saved my life and i think she forgot we were there,” chimney says, with his head down as they pile back into the aid car.

eddie stamped back up the stairs, pulling out his phone from his bag when he got there. everyone was crowded around the kitchen island, talking about the call or their own thoughts. eddie was facing his own nightmare when he saw the notifications flashed on his screen.

y/n/n: 11:34

12 missed calls

he rapidly unlocked his phone, smashing in the password numbers and checking his texts and voicemails. his face dropped when he saw the one remaining voice mail from y/n.

one unread voice message from y/n/n at 11:41

he quickly moved himself away from everyone, barricading himself in the corner. he shakily pressed play on the voice message, loudly. he didn’t care if anyone heard.

“hey, baby,” she starts, quietly and shakily. “i know you’re probably on a call, but i wanted you to listen to me. i don’t want you to freak out or anything yet, but, um, i think someone has a gun. im doing everything i can, but i had to call you and tell you how much i love you…” she breathes and deeply exhales. “i love you more than anyone and i’d do anything for you. i love you so, so much, eddie. i know what you’d say, don’t think this way but i had to say my goodbye just in case… in case i don’t make it out of here. you’re in my heart forever, eddie.”

eddie has no tears in his eyes from the pure terror. she’s alone in this building and has no idea what might be on the other side. he stares at the wall, and the ringing in his ears becomes severe and he feels like he was hit by a car. the whole team overheard, drowning in their own fear as well. the noises of the TV were spat out at them.

“we have breaking news to interrupt our regular programs, several shots have been fired at LA general hospital and an active shooter warning has been sent out-“

everyone’s mouths were gaped open, looking directly at eddie who is already sprinting out of the station and into the engine. he knows they’ll be called soon anyway, so why not get a head start? and everyone follows him, getting into the engine.

eddie plays the message on repeat, looking for any little details and hope. the second they arrived on scene, eddie barely gave the engine time to stop before he was out. his mind was in complete fight mode, which almost gave him the impulse to run in and find his soon to be fiancé.

gathered around the hospital are multiple SWAT trucks and tens of police units. they were coming in and out, and eddie almost dropped to his knees when he heard the three words, “suspect in custody.”

the hospital was eerily silent. it was terrifying to y/n, as it was always busy and loud and now, there wasn’t even beeping of machines or hissing of intubation. it was like the whole world stopped. she had ran into the bathroom of a patient, not leaving the room for any reason. locate, lockdown. the four L’s were speeding through her mind in a desperate fight to survive. when you get the training, you assume it’ll never happen to you. but it can.

she was splattered with blood from the bank in a desperate attempt to save herself if needed, but then found herself locked in the small room. her mind had almost become a blur, waiting forever to get the all clear before she heard the SWAT teams come into the room and help lead her out. her eyes were glued to the ceiling to avoid any contact with the horror ensuing.

she had finally been confronted with the fresh california air, walking outside and looking around for anyone she knew. her hands were fallen loosely around her sides, but her posture was stiff.

meanwhile, behind the yellow tapes and barriers, eddie was attempting to get inside to find y/n, having no idea that she was almost right in front of him. “i swear to god, athena, i need to get in there and find her, i have no clue where she is and i need her to be ok, so please,” he rapidly spits out when he feels bobby place a calm hand on his shoulder.

“eddie,” he says, turning his attention to the fearful woman standing in the middle of the parking lot. he’d been waiting for hours for her to be evacuated, the process feeling like years.

when eddie adjusts himself and focuses his eyes, he pulls his stapled feet off the ground and walks over to y/n with his hands out shortly. she sees him coming up, sighing out of exhaustion and was finally in repose. her eyes were red and tired, filled with non-stop tears that were subconsciously falling down her cheeks.

“eddie?” she practically whispers.

“yeah, honey, it’s me,” he replies, stepping in closer as she falls into his embrace. “it’s ok, you’re gonna be ok, you’re safe,” he murmurs sweet comforts into her ear and places his hand on the back of her head. her shivering hands were placed against his back.

being able to fall against him and cry on his shoulder almost erased all of y/n’s thoughts. she knew she did everything she had to do, and now was the last step. live

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 14

hope u all enjoy <3 comment and reblog it really means a lot :>

MASTAPOST

The smell of Atlantean was getting stronger, Danny kept himself and Damian invisible as they perched atop a cliff looking down at the town. He could hear Damian licking his lips. Kid, you literally just ate! Was he thirsting for vegetables or blood?

“Excellent. With your camouflage, we will be able to infiltrate and extract the resources without any trouble.”

Danny waved his hands to cut off that notion. “Hold up. Who says ‘we’ are going to raid the Atlanteans? Why shouldn’t I just leave you here and come back and we can be on our way?”

Damian frowned, fins rattling in offense. “May I remind you who has more experience in this field?”

“True, but your dad might skin me if he found out that I let you become a glorified sea pirate.”

Damian tutted. “What father doesn’t know will not hurt him. Now go! We are wasting time!”

With that, Damian attached himself to Danny’s hip, practically hooking his claws into Danny’s scales. The bloodthirsty theory was beginning to gain traction in Danny’s mind, what with how the kid was audibly purring despite Danny not giving any touches at that moment.

Danny let his invisibility wash over his scales, turning his body from translucent to being one with the water, his powers seeping into Damian’s body and hiding him from view too. Hopefully Aquaman wouldn’t be too upset with them.

The boys approached the Atlantean town from above. Danny’s lateral line pinged dozens olf times. Civilians wandered the streets, peddling wares and chatting about the day. On the far side, trainees tossed javelins and practiced archery while an instructor yelled commands at them.

“There.” Damian whispered. The boy tugged on Danny’s fins, and Danny followed the direction to where the market was. “I believe I spotted a cartographer in the crowd. We should be able to obtain our prize from him.”

As Danny descended and swam just over head of the Atlanteans, his ear fins prickled. Chatter in Atlantean filled the water, none of which Danny could parse out. Hell, even his Pacific Siren was pretty choppy, a fact that Sam endlessly teased him about. Ocean languages were tricky! It wasn’t his fault!

Whatever, point is, Danny spotted the guy. Thin, stocky, wearing a dark blue overcoat and tunic, fit with undersea glasses, carrying rolled up paper underarm. The man shuffled into a small corner shop on the street, a good distance away from the bigger crowd in the market. Danny crept up behind him, careful not to bump into any one.

The shop was nothing impressive, just a humble joint probably frequented by travelers or whatever. Maps of the world decorated the walls, accompanied by globes atop display cases that contained even more charts of the local area. The owner kept his back to them as he bent over a bench and filed away his new acquisitions.

“Now, while his back is turned.” Damian whispered.

Danny swam into the shop through the doorway, careful not to make a single sound. The shopkeeper hummed. Danny compressed his hand through the tiny slit of the display case. He reformed it to its proper size on the inside. He grabbed the closest map and spread his invisibility to it, before pulling it out.

The shopkeeper turned around. Danny’s gills stilled. The man stared at the spot where the map had just been, eyes quirked up. He was none the wiser as Danny turned tail, and exited the shop in swift fashion.

Once out of earshot, Danny let himself relax a little. “Welp, time to get outta here then.”

Damian poked him in the side (thankfully below the gills; that would hurt) and chittered. “Negative.”

“What do you mean negative? We got exactly what you wanted?”

“Not yet. Look.”

…

“You know you’re still invisible, right? I can’t see what you’re pointing at.”

“The seahorses!”

Danny’s face blanched. “You wanna eat the seahorses??”

He felt a whack on his sail. “No, you buffoon. I would like to pet them.”

This kid’s priorities. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re kind of in enemy territory here.”

“I am aware, but I have never pet a seahorse before, and I may not get another opportunity like this again.”

Danny’s jaw gaped open. “If you haven’t noticed, there’s an entire ocean ahead of us.”

“Don’t condescend to me. The seahorses are in our vicinity, and there is no guarantee we will come across another school on our journey. Therefore, we go to them now.”

In all honesty, he should’ve expected the kid to be distracted by his love of animals. Hell, Danny could even relate with his own obsession with astronomy.

“Fiiiiine. But I have a bad feeling about this.”

And so Danny flipped fins and brought Damian to the seahorses, as requested. The little things were floating around a coral reef within the town borders, surrounded by a fence. Architectural features like these always reminded him of Dora’s rants about how Atlanteans were essentially humans, and he could see why. What was the point of a fence when everyone and their mother could just swim over it?

Case in point: Danny right now.

Danny lay down on his belly in the sand, keeping a hand on Damian’s shoulder to keep the invisibility flowing. The sea horses swarmed over him, poking curiously at his fins, sensing the disturbance but not seeing it. One particularly brave seahorse even brushed its tail along his gills. Danny had to bite his lip to avoid gasping or giggling from the ticklish sensation. Damian didn’t say anything, but he seemed to be having the time of his life, with how the seahorses’ manes creased from the kid’s touch.

If Danny flexed his ear fins, he could even pick up the slightest cooing sound from the kid. If he could see the younger guppy’s face, he bet it would be split in a huge grin. Then again, Damian didn’t seem the type to express positive emotion so openly like that, but who knows? Maybe the invisibility’s lowering his inhibitions?

A foot brushed his dorsal fin. Danny gasped from the sudden rough touch on his sensitive fin. Dammit!

Maybe he was the one who should’ve remembered they were in enemy territory.

A child gasped, mouth gaped open as she stared at where his tailfin was. Danny pulled Damian back, getting ready to take off. Yeah this was the part where they got the hell out of dodge.

Only for the girl to lean down and poke him. Right in the gills. Ow.

Danny yelped in shock. His body snapped back into the visible spectrum as the little girl went saucer eyed. Outside the fence, an Atlantean woman stood stunned as she blinked owlishly at them.

He chuckled. “Well, thanks for letting us pet your seahorses, but we really gotta go, so see ya-”

“SIIREEEENNNNNNS!!!!!”

Well fuck.

Sam slammed her fist against the punching bag. Every yell brought forth primal rage, and righteous anger. In her mind’s eye, Vlad’s face ate every punch and crunched with every kick. Skulker’s smug mug got caved in. And most of all, Danny’s fucking parents. Her fucking parents.

Didn’t take Superman to hear them screaming upstairs. Hurling accusations, badmouthing Danny for the six hundred and fiftieth time. “Oh how could he lead our precious Sammykins astray like this?” As if they didn’t do that already!

And now she was grounded. Put on house arrest, even. Tucker shared a similar fate. That just left Jazz to monitor the situation. Luckily, Tuck prepared secret burner phones for them for this exact scenario.

Being grounded also meant they couldn’t search for Danny again. In all likelihood he had probably skipped town. Tucker’s forays into the GiW’s servers showed they were still on the lookout, so that was something to be relieved by. If only she and Tuck actually knew what was going on!

She growled and then transitioned into another scream. How the hell did the Fentons even know where to look for them!?

The anger melted away into anxiety. The conversation replayed in her mind. Half the time she wasn’t even sure what she was saying. That was so close. One slip-up and she would’ve landed Danny on the dissection table, not that the result they got was much better. Danny still had a target on his back, and no one could be blamed for it but her. Six months ago while they were just teenagers in over their heads, the idea of caped heroes coming in to save their asses seemed like a dream.

But now? Bruce Wayne funded the Justice League. The fucking Justice. League. It was like Paulina getting a poor girl who bumped into her suspended because of her dad’s wealth. Only replace the poor girl getting suspended with Danny being turned into scientific sushi by the Goons in White, or even worse: his parents.

Oh, and she pissed him off even more. Sam banged her head against the punching back.

Danny was strong. She was strong. Tucker was strong. They had faith in each other. But as yesterday’s hack proved, there were far, far bigger fish in the ocean. And she would destroy anyone who heard her admit it, but part of her was terrified.

Sam retreated to her room, not even sparing her arguing parents a glance. Once in the safety of her private sanctuary, she retrieved her spell book, and began to research anew. She needed to be in tip-top shape to help Danny and Damian Wayne get home. They were going to contact her and Tucker any day now, and she needed to be ready for it.

Please be ok, Danny.

Maddie finished the last of the software updates to the Fenton Sonars, resetting them and reversing the damage Tucker had done. What were they thinking?! Aiding and abetting some of the most dangerous creatures on the planet. All those PSAs and lectures she knew he had sat in on with Danny and the takeaway he had was to play superhero with a savage beast?!

The sonars pinged. Just as she suspected. No sign of Phantom near Amity. The GiW hadn’t found crap in however many hours of search in the surrounding waters, so the bastard probably fled with his tail between his… tail. Maddie scoffed. Some hero.

But that was perfectly fine by her, because she had Phantom’s hydroplasmic signature.

Switching programs, she accessed the Fenton Satellite’s computer programming. One key stroke later, and Phantom’s signature beamed up to the Fenton Satellite. Maddie grinned darkly.

“You finished over there, Maddie?” Jack asked. Glow torch sparks lit up behind her and cast the lab in stark shadow.

“Yes sweetie, now all that we need left is the hardware.”

On the workbench, Jack carefully welded their newest creation. She took up the spot beside him, and began slotting components in as they transitioned to working in perfect harmony together. Jack glanced at her, and she passed over the wrench. A nano-battery array here. A forty-inch radar dish there. A custom Fenton piston set over there. With two children on the line, they worked round the clock. They tested their new inventions rigorously, then broke them down to rebuild them better.

Phantom won’t know what hit him.

[prettyboykatsuki]

just some notes - depending on what ends up winning, i might not specifically write this with a character in mind but an oc monster (just because if i feel like i cant write a character that fits i wont write it at all).

no matter what it will be x reader / reader insert as usual though but it might not be anime man monster and just Monster so keep that in mind

[sourvers]

01: DON'T BE A STRANGER

chapter summary: a familiar face visits and asks for your help. the choice of refusal is dim.

⤷ this is the first chapter of 'Petrichor'! hope you enjoy lovelies. minor plot change for my heart's sake.

cod main masterlist . petrichor masterlist . ao3 link . next chapter .

The Yukon was pleasant and frigid beyond belief. 

Nevertheless, you craved haskap berries, and spring was inching over the horizon; crawling up your spine and shaking you alive. 

You sigh, gingerly closing your copy of ‘Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea’ , your hand instinctively tracing over the gold details as your French pronunciation lingers across the plain of your tongue.  

‘Vingt mille lieues sous les mers’ , You think, the ventures of Captain Nemo still fresh in your mind like Kate’s stilted voice reverberating in your ear: a siren, a horn, a whisper of dread you couldn’t shake. 

It started outside the grocery store, four days ago. 

Whitehorse was a 15-minute drive from your secluded home, found on the very outskirts of the capital and wrapped by lush pine trees. In the summer, grand fields of wildflowers spread across your horizon and became your choice of commerce during the warmer months, knowing how skilled local businesses made soap from dried fireweed. 

You drove into town to buy items you had put off: flour for the pie, extract, a new toothbrush after your other snapped in half, and red yarn. 

The locals kept to themselves and united all at once. A strange, inexplicable harmony you couldn't penetrate or grasp. Perhaps years of unyielding winters carve and shape people, like a sculptor holding the heart of their project. You hoped one day, you’d understand it too. 

Nevertheless, what you did understand was the townspeople's standoffish and overwrought nature. You were new to the town, a woman who only came to town to buy or sell, spending your ‘elusive’ days in or around the outskirts of your home or a vague “out” as you’d phrase it.

A group of the townspeople’s children even titled you the ‘Wicked Witch of the North’ after you accidentally struck over several vases during a summer market. While it was the talk of the town for several weeks; muttered under hasty quiet breaths despite being miles away, it was when the townspeople heard the most of your voice. From the strange resonance in your voice to how you pronounced your ‘o’s and ‘r’s. 

However, there was one citizen who seemed to find your presence jovial. 

“Oh my!” exclaims Sophia, her brown eyes gleaming under the fluorescent light of the grocery store; casting the small store in an odd shade of green, “Even you don’t come this late, what brings you here witch?” she teases, her bright smile flashing like headlights. 

“Well, I’ve come to pick up my ingredients,” you explain unfazed, your eyes scanning the shelves for your brand of flour,  “I have to keep up appearances of course. Can’t scare the children if I don’t tempt them with pie.” 

Sophia chuckles, her laugh bright and boisterous like the sun beaming down on you. “I suppose you can’t.” 

You scoff, yet, the subtle pull of your lips rivals your sarcasm. 

“You know, the new delivery of flour is behind,” Sophia smiles, “Small tip.” 

You take the one in the front, a small cloud of flour coming to life at your touch, “Thank you… I’ll take note of that.” 

Sophia smile dips and she sighs, tilting her head as she watches you promptly take what you need, contemplating for only a few seconds. 

“Do you have something to say?”

Sophia’s breath hitches, however, she gives you a small tentative smile, “You should come over… have dinner with my family some time, being alone in a place like the Yukon isn't good for the soul.” 

Your hand freezes as you reach for the vanilla extract, its sweetness exuding from the bottle like an elixir. Sophia’s eyes don’t reach you from behind the shelves. Despite being considerably older than Sophia, a part of you stung with childish envy. 

You sigh, and hum in mellow amusement, reaching for your thin wristwatch as you emerge from behind the shelves growing shadow, “And who told you that?”

“My grandmother,” stated Sophia, a small bud of pride growing in her chest, “She is our elder in the community.” 

The corners of your lips rise into a tentative and strangely warm smile, one of kinship even. “A wise woman I can surmise.” 

Sophia grins, “More than you can know.” 

Soon, you line your groceries on the belt and Sophia scans them silently. The beeping and incessant hum of the heater were the only words communicating in the air. 

“You must think I’m annoying.” 

You raise a brow, your eyes searching through your wallet before responding, “How so?” 

Sophia scoffs, “Well, I’m a nineteen-year-old store clerk who bothers a grown woman every time she shops. A bit of an asshole move if you ask me.” 

You let out a momentary laugh, swiping your card, “I’ve seen worse assholes, you’re by far the least dangerous.” 

“So I’m still an asshole?” 

“The good kind.” 

Sophia cracks a smile as she hands you the receipt, “If you let people know you more, they’ll like you.” 

“And why’s that?” you muse, stuffing the receipt in your jacket pocket while starting the car.

“I’m sure you know why,” states Sophia, “Don’t be a stranger.” 

You gaze at her, half amused, “I’ll take note of that.”

You amble towards the door, the sun long set as you reach for the door handle–

“Wait! God I almost forgot,” piped Sophia, “A woman came here earlier, I think she was looking for you given her description. Blond short hair, blue-greyish eyes I think? Anyways, do you know anyone like that? She spoke a bit fast too–”

Your eyes widen before promptly sharpening like the blade of a knife, “Thank you, Sophia. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“But wait-” 

You swing the door open, a blast of frigid evening air brushing against your cheek as the grip on your grocery bag tightens. You let out a slow, restrained sigh, tuning into the crunch of your boots on snow, leading you to your car. Despite the layers you wore, you still shivered as the moon gleamed down on you, its rays tender and soothing. 

Too soothing. 

“It's rather rude to not announce your presence,” you mutter quietly, lacking any bite as you sink your empty hand deeper into your right pocket, eyes fixed on your reflection in the car window and the crunching of snow.

“I hear the townspeople call you ‘The Wicked Witch of the North’, quite the title. I wonder what you did to get it.” 

You hum in amusement, gradually turning your head to face her, the first fall of snowflakes landing on the tip of your eyelashes, “What are you doing here Laswell?”

Kate let out a sharp exhale, a cloud of white rising into the atmosphere. She crosses her arms over her chest, “I need your help, but first, we need to talk.” 

Your eyes go up and down her figure, as your lips curve into a smile, ignoring her pensive face, “As punctual as always. But you didn’t come prepared did you?” 

“Winter’s never been my type.” 

“A shame, you’re missing out,” you quipped, turning your back as you opened the passenger door, “Come on, I don’t have a choice do I?” 

Kate gives you a small smile, uncrossing her arms and shoving her hands deeper into her thin coat pockets, “According to my weather app, it's expected to be spring soon.”

You scoff amused, “Word of advice? Don’t fully trust the weather app.” 

Kate’s smile falters and you become acutely aware of the paper cut between your fingers. You pull out of the parking lot and onto the road. Snowflakes collect on your windshield while the hum of your tires against gravel fills the silence; looping like a song’s beat, over and over. 

“Kate.” 

“Yes?” 

Kate turns her head to face you: your face stiff, steadfast, unwavering; gazing head-on into infinite darkness. Even now- face cast in the evening shadows and dim starlight- Kate’s stomach churned at the sight of you, twisting like a knot. You seemed to be untouched by time: delicate scars still engraved in your skin, acute angles and tender curves still bridging together the map of your face, sharp and ever more subdued. As if deep in slumber. 

It was just as Kate recalled it to be. 

“This ‘help’ that you’re going to ask of me,” you probe, eyes fixed on the road, Kate’s gaze burning through your neck scarf, “I won’t be able to refuse, will I?” 

Kate releases a strained sigh, leaning back into her chair, she gazes ahead. Frost grows on the window. “I don’t want to force you into anything.” 

“But it seems you’ll have to,” you reply smoothly, methodically as if in thought, “Don’t downplay yourself, the only reason I’m here in the Yukon is because of you .”

Kate stiffens and gazes at you shortly, awaiting your words behind the small, tentative pause. 

You shake your head and sigh, lowering your voice, the sound near soothing, “I owe you a debt I will never be able to repay.” 

“I wouldn’t phrase it like that.”

“And yet, here you are.”

You look at Kate for the first time since you’ve entered the car; a sly smile reaching your lips before your eyes swiftly dart away from Kate’s weary stare. 

She notices.  

“Now that we have that out of the way,” you begin, promptly, “What exactly do you need help with?”

“I hope you don’t mind being in a bit of a boy band.” 

You raise an eyebrow, “I think the Backstreet Boys are alright if that’s what you’re referring to.” 

Kate releases a laugh, “It’s a different kind of boy band.” 

Kate gave you a week to pack, say goodbyes if you had any, then depart. 

The file she had given was still placed, rather haphazardly, on your coffee table alongside your book while your craving for haskap berries gradually faded, melting into the Earth like snow. 

You sigh, gradually rising from the couch and crossing your arms. The file staring back at you, its contents spilled across the table while its words were thoroughly engraved in your mind. 

“A covert task force,” you muse, bringing one of the papers to your face, your eyes dancing over the lines, rearranging them like a puzzle, “Four members. All men,” you scoff, “No wonder Kate called it a boyband.” 

Kate had given you a considerable amount of time to pack despite not owning any items worth considerable significance. A duffel bag would do just fine, you’d wear your trench coat, and leave the winter gear behind. 

You haven’t even begun packing.

“God. I even bought groceries,” you sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “Might as well give it to Sophia for free.” 

After Kate stayed for that night, she left the following morning, her phone ringing call after call. 

“Busy?” 

“More than you can imagine.”

A part of you wondered why she decided to visit from the States; probing your mind until you wrestled in bed for an answer. She could have easily phoned you. Nevertheless, Kate plotted peculiarly. A method of thought meant for only those who understood. Perhaps she came to dangle the medicine for your terrors over your lips, to be of some consolation and company. Or more likely, to ensure the handcuffs around your wrists were still burning through your skin. 

“I never said we needed a new asset to the team.” 

Kate sighs, gingerly placing the cup of tea in front of John. Its smell quietly blended with the air, “You and I both know that we’ve run dry on information.” Kate pulled her chair open, taking a seat, “This friend of mine provides a new set of skills to the task force, something to give us an edge.” 

“Then why is there a strain in your voice?” 

Kate stares at John blankly, her voice low, grave even, “After what nearly happened to Soap, we should reconsider who we consider our assets and informants.”

John remains silent, heaving a sigh before gazing out the window, his eyes mellow for a brief moment. The cup of tea still untouched. “When is he coming?” 

A small smile reaches Kate’s lips, “Bold of you to assume it’s a he John,” Kate pulls out a thin file, its contents scarce, “She’s outsourced, not military but has more than enough skills to carry her weight.” 

John reaches for the file, his eyes scanning over the information: height, weight, eye color, name. 

‘Someone from the outside’ he remarks.

“No photo?” muses John, “She wears a mask like Simon?” 

“No time for a photo. Had to call her in quickly. Though, she prefers long coats instead of a mask.” 

John hums, amused, “Anything else I should know? Before telling the team?” 

Kate pauses, her small smile remains, her tone candid, “Negative.”

[newobsessionweekly]

Love and tragedy

Main masterlist | 9-1-1 Masterlist

Eddie Diaz x male!reader

Fandom: 911

Summary: The 118 Unit is dispatched to a multi-car pileup where you, Eddie’s boyfriend, are involved.

Warnings: Mentions on blood, injuries, that’s all I think ?

Author’s note: Not proofread, just had it in my notes and thought i should post it. It’s for a recent anonymous request, a Eddie Diaz x male!reader fic. I hope you like it, bub!

Requested: Yes, kinda

Words: 1.2k

Requests are open for Eddie / Buck!

Eddie had always known that his job as a firefighter came with the risk of losing someone he loved. But he never expected that someone to be his own partner, the person he had fallen deeply in love with.

It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon when the call came in. There had been a collision on the freeway, a multi-car pileup that had left several people critically injured. The 118 Unit were the first responders on the scene, and they quickly sprang into action.

Pulling out all the stops as they worked to extract the injured victims from the wreckage.

"Oh God!" Buck gasped at the sight of the totaled car and the man trapped inside. Blood streamed down his face from the impact, the airbags now just a distant memory of the carnage.

"Buck?" Hen turns at the sound of Buck's panicked voice just to face you, trapped in your car.

"Eddie can't see this!" he whispered under his breath.

“Yeah, cuz he won't recognize the car!” her sarcastic voice echoed through the air and made some heads turn.

The scene of such an accident is usually chaotic, with wrecked vehicles scattered across the road. The air is thick with the sound of wailing sirens, and the scent of gasoline and burning rubber fills the air.

Eddie helped a woman safely exit her car as she suffered nothing more than just some bruises, scratches and a hell of a scare. He turned his head in Buck's direction and spotted the twisted wreckage of one of the vehicles, and his heart sank. That was your car.

“Eddie, I need you to step back.” Bobby softly said, guarding your boyfriend away from the scene, letting the firefighters from Unit 136 help.

As they worked to extract you from the mangled vehicle, Eddie's heart stopped. He watched in horror, the sound of the jaws of life cutting through metal was drowned out by the sound of your boyfriend's own sobs as they carefully removed you from the wreckage, your body limp and unresponsive.

Eddie rushed to your side, his hands shaking as he reached out to touch your beautiful face, now covered in scratches and painfully painted in blue and purple. It was cold, so cold. And there was so much blood. Eddie felt a wave of nausea rise up in his throat as he realized just how bad the situation was.

The ambulance rushed you to the hospital, with Eddie by your side the whole way. The paramedics worked tirelessly to keep you alive, and Eddie held your hand tightly, praying that you would make it through.

As you arrived at the emergency room, Eddie's world came crashing down as he watched his love being whisked away into surgery, fighting for his life.

Over the next few hours, Eddie sat in the waiting room, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. After ensuring everyone's safety from the deadly metal piles, everyone gathered together at Eddie's side.

Buck placed a hand on his shoulder, embracing him, allowing Eddie to let off his pain. Buck is both your best friend and it hurt for him just as much. Being the one that found you like that and seeing Eddie so broken.

As Eddie thought about all the times he had taken you for granted, he realized the depth of his love for you. Losing you was unimaginable to him, as he had never considered a life without you.

Athena came by passing everyone a cup of coffee and food as they all waited for some news about your condition.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doctor emerged from the operating room. Eddie's heart was in his throat as he waited to hear the news.

“Y/n is stable. The surgery went well, but he'll need a little more time to recover, is still weak.” the doctor's words were like a balm to his soul - you were alive.

“Can I- we see him?” Eddie jump up from his seat, eyes puffy and face red from crying.

“He's not under anaesthesia anymore, you can visit him now. One by one please —” Eddie left the waiting room before the doctor finishes the sentence.

Your room was smelling like medicine and sorrow, and you were bandaged from head to toe. Your angelic face was covered in stitches, one leg trapped in a cast, and your eyes lost in LA's lights fading away into darkness.

With shaky hands, Eddie opened the door. He rushed to your side, tears falling down his cheeks once again as he saw the surprise on your face.

“Eddie? What are you doing here?” you ask, extending a hand and motioning towards the chair next to your bed, inviting Eddie to sit down. “Who called you?” he's wearing his LAFD uniform, blood covering his arms and a little bit of smoke here and there making him look even more attractive.

“What do you mean? Wasn't supposed to be next to you?” your boyfriend frowned.

“I didn't want to worry you.” you confess, a very big lump form in your throat as the moments before the collision played in your head.

“You know what happened?” he softly took your and and placed on top of it a million kisses. He knows you're safe now, but the thoughts still haunt him. He almost lost you and couldn't bear it.

“Yeah, I know there was a car accident. I was conscious for a bit. Spoke to Maddie right after it happened. "I told her not to spill the beans, but I guess she missed that part.” you chuckled, caressing Eddie's features like you never want to forget them.

“We were some of the first responders on that call. Buck found you-“ Eddie paused, his eyes on the ground, letting a sob out of his mouth. “I was so scared I'd lose you. You coded on the way to the hospital. I-I…” he closes his eyes.

You grabbed his chin with two fingers, forcing it up, while you locked your eyes in his. “I'm fine now, you got in time. Please don't cry, I'm safe.”

“I love you so much, more than we both can ever imagine.”

“I love you more than anything on this world!" you smile, as he finally closes the distance between you two. The kiss was soft, Eddie frightened he'd hurt you with his touch. He lingered upon your lips, hoping deep inside it will all be just a bad dream. Then he placed a kiss on your cheeks before standing up.

“Oh, God, how much I hate hospitals!” Eddie run his palms over his eyes, wiping the remaining tears, cracking a laughter. “Everyone's here. They are all here for you. Wanna see them too?” you smiled and nodded in response.

For the next few days, Eddie kept a constant vigil at your bedside, secretly praying for you to pull through. As he watched the steady rise and fall of your chest, he vowed to never take a single moment with you for granted again.