#this was so fun I hope it's as funny as I intended although I fear it is not

[madootles]

happy october third!

[be-my-ally]

Before the Draft Notice

This follows on directly from Splashing Around Chapter 1 & Chapter 2. 

Hello darlings! So, I had something else ready to post, but, well, it's not yet even Halloween and therefore I’ve been informed it might be a little, teeny, tiny, bit early for Christmas fics - so here I am, bridging the gap with a little teeny tiny filler. Let me know though if/when you think it might be the correct time for festive fluffy fun! 

warnings: kissing, implications of underage. unedited (I will probs come back to this tomorrow).

1957 elvis x oc

wc: 2.4k

Elvis wasn’t home soon though, he dawdled in California until they all saw the news articles of him at a fancy Halloween party and though the other girls had a lot to say about it, Louise privately thought it made sense; he was young, he was popular, he was making it, why wouldn’t he be rubbing shoulders with the starlets and actors of the west coast? Although that didn’t mean she didn’t share their fears, understanding their annoyance was borne from stress that he was leaving them behind. Besides, he’d called in a terrible temper the night before and it was, or at least Louise thought, an effective way for him to blow off some steam. He had been on the phone to them for hours, forcing them to pass it around to one another, telling them the same story over and over - presumably intending on doing so until someone managed to calm him down. Louise dreaded to think of the cost of just that one call - surely more than she’d spent on the phone in a year. 

“Hey Elvis, it’s me.” She could picture his nostrils flaring as she heard a puff from him,  

“Lou-ise.” He was curt, and she worried the phone cord around her finger, twirling it as she tried to think of what to say; desperate to prove herself to him and to the others - to succeed where all the others had failed.  

“I, uh, I heard ‘bout the, I heard about the police.”  

“Did ya? Wish they’d just move on; I’m not doing anything wrong. I don’t get why they hafta keep picking on me.” Louise hums, and he continues, “They’re sayin’ I’m - I’m lewd, got the goddamn police after me again like I’m a fucking criminal. Ain’t enough they’ve made me 1A already, they gotta try and prove their goddamn point.” She sighs,  

“Well - I thought that didn’t bother you anymore?” He huffs back at her,  

“Well, no, it don’t. I find it funny most of the time now. I mean - they didn’t even look at me the whole night, but it’s still, it’s still not fair to treat my fans like that either is it?” She murmurs back to him in what she hopes is a consolatory tone,  

“No, no you’re right El… it’s not, it’s not fair.” She pauses, briefly, “What’s really the matter though? That’s nothing you haven’t dealt with before.” There’s a longer pause, as if he’s debating whether to tell her. She shakes out a hand to the others left in the room motioning at them to leave. They grumble but filter out, talking about who was driving who home. Then, in a whine,  

“Some reporter had me read something from Sinatra.” Ah, there it was, “And, and, I just don’t know where he gets off being so mean.” He sounds like a little boy complaining about someone in the school yard, and Louise smiles,  

“Uh-huh, I hear you. He is being awfully unfair. You want me to write an opinion piece back to him? I could hand it in for extra credit in my English class.” He laughs,  

“Oh, I shouldn’t be bothering you with all this. Not at -” She can practically hear him adding up the time difference on his fingers, “- well, this late on a school night.” He pauses, “What are you doin’ there anyway - shouldn’t you be at home?” She winces, it was pretty late, and she’d hoped he wouldn’t ask that.  

“Well, we were all here waiting for you to call. Wanted to be here in case you needed us - all of us that could be here anyway - and well, a lot of the others have gone home but, well, your mom said I could stay as long as I liked so, well, here I am.”  

“But you’ve been keeping up with school? You’ve not been skippin’?” She rolls her eyes, and he tuts,  

“I heard that.” Louise giggles back, 

“You can’t possibly!”  

“Trust me - I always know.” He sighs, “God, I can’t wait to be home.” He yawned, jaw cracking, “Gotta, gonna go to this party, just - think it’s just a lil, little, uh, gathering - then I’ll be home.”  

“Well, I’ll be waiting,” He pauses,  

“Well - it’s, it’s probably best if you, well if you go home ‘til I call for you hmm?” It wasn’t unexpected, but Louise still felt her stomach drop.  

“Yeah, of course, uh, whatever you say.”  

“Just be for the best, I think honey.” 

“Yeah, I get it, sure.”  

“Sleep tight then baby, I’ll see you soon.”  

“Yeah-huh, you too.” He hangs up and she’s left holding the receiver, in his empty living room, uncertain really what he’d been saying.  

When he finally got back Louise didn’t get a call, and then she heard he had left for Hawaii before she had managed to muster up the courage to call him herself. Once Elvis returned, he didn’t call her himself for days, although she did get several calls inviting her up to the house which she of course accepted every time. And every night it was the same story, she sat there, quietly with the other girls while he chatted and played evening after evening. Louise wasn’t being ignored, not really. He was just…sharing his affections. Equalizing his attention amongst them all. It wasn’t until a week later, on the weekend, that he came around to the girls, flopping down onto the sofa between them and resting his head onto Louise’s lap. Frances had his feet on hers, and she softly brushed his sole until he huffed, twitching his foot away and turning his head into Louise’s stomach. She gently stroked his hair, fingers barely catching in his freshly washed strands. She could feel his hot breath against her skin through the thin fabric of her dress and it makes her hair stand up on edge, the intimacy of the moment almost too much for her as she tries to keep her breathing steady.  

“I’ve got a bad feelin,’ Ma does too.” Louise’s hand stills, her other coming down to tickle his back, soft fingers dancing over his shoulders. Elvis twists his head, nodding against her hand and Louise gets the hint returning to gently brushing through his hair. 

Frances pipes up,  “What d’you mean?”  

“I’ve - I’ve got a nasty feeling about my notice - don’t think it’ll be long now.”  

“Oh.” Louise feels her chest tighten, worry already setting in as Frances responds,  

“No! I’m sure that’s not true Elvis! You’ve got so much already planned!” He huffs, and Louise whispers back to him,  

“Well, we’ll deal with it if it is,” He whines a little into her,  

“Y’all gotta promise me - promise me you’ll all be good while I’m gone, I don’t - don’t wanna hear you’ve gotten into trouble.” He pauses, his voice muffled by the fabric of her dress, “Don’t want anything to change.” Louise can’t help but think about all the ways she wants things to change, namely how it’s now been months since they last kissed properly, and she felt like she was close to begging for it - propriety be damned. Whether Elvis notices her telepathic hinting, or if it was always in the plan is unclear, but within the hour he had returned to his bedroom, presumably to get changed again although he didn’t bother to announce that to the room. George tapping on her shoulder twenty minutes later after some sort of Chinese whispers had taken place with orders for her to be sent up to him.  

Louise tentatively knocked on the door even though she knew he was expecting her, awaiting his, “Come on in little Lou-Lou!” before opening it. He’s perched on the end of his bed when she walks in, her feet sinking into his soft, still new-feeling, thick white carpet, and he opens his arms to her. She practically throws herself into them and is immediately rewarded by him pulling her tight to him, his arms folding around her back, clutching her close. She couldn’t break away further than an inch if she wanted to, not that she did. She contented herself nosing at his neck, before one of his hands strayed up to rest on her cheek, turning her face to his, before falling down to her neck, fingers splayed up to her chin. She tips her head up, meeting his eyes and he winks before ducking his own head down to meet hers. It’s at once far more involved than the last time they’d kissed. This time he’s kissing her like he’s hungry for it and he pulls away, briefly, with a tug to her bottom lip,  

“God - I missed ya, baby,” before clutching her face close again. Louise feels like her body is burning from the inside out, can feel the heat building and starting to radiate off her, and Elvis’ arm clenches around her, stilling her movements as she practically bucks against him. She just melts, his arm the only thing really holding her up as she willingly goes along with her devourment. He laughs, his fingers grazing her waist, as she gasps for a breath, her eyes still closed, “You’re so pretty.” Her eyes flutter open in disbelief, unable to believe, even having heard it herself, that Elvis was telling her she was pretty. She gathered her strength to place her wobbly arms around his neck, murmuring back to him, “No, you’re the pretty one, gosh you’re gorgeous, you look so good,” as she presses little kisses all over his cheeks and face. He reciprocates, and she manages to keep her eyes open, watching him at impossibly close range. He ends by pressing a kiss to her mouth again, and this time Louise pushes herself against him so hard that they go tumbling down onto the bed. She giggles, looking around at the blue walls, but Elvis quickly regains her attention, caging her in under him and capturing her mouth with his again. She relaxes into him - completely at ease and trusting.

By the time they make their way back downstairs, Louise was dazed, and her lips bitten sore, and she was pleased to notice Elvis’ looked the same - a little zing of possessiveness sent straight up her spine. Yes; she mussed his hair up to look like that. His lips are rosy and plumped because of her. She misses everyone’s first looks, coming in behind Elvis, and though he doesn’t announce what they’ d been up to she can feel their knowing eyes, and she resigns herself to having to field questions on the nature of her relationship with Elvis.  

Elvis immediately situated himself back on the couch, patting the space next to him.  

 “C’mon little girl, come sit next to me.” Louise writhes a little, her face echoing her jumbled internal thoughts. 

“What? C’mon, what’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He teases, eyebrow rising and Louise is quick to walk over to him, anxious for him not to change his mind despite her annoyance. He grabs her wrist before she can sit down, tugging her to stand in front of him. “You don’t wanna sit with me now?” She thinks, but doesn’t say, ‘well, no. because you’re holding me upright.’  

“No, no, I do. I just, I know you don’t mean it in this way, but it’s just…well, Elvis - you’re not that much older than me, and it feels like sometimes you’re, - “She pauses, unsure how to put it, his gaze hardens,  

“I’m what?”  

“Like you’re, oh I don’t know Elvis!” He doesn’t let go, and he doesn’t respond, just waiting her out. “Well. You just don’t needta call me little all the damn time.” His brow furrows as he tries to work out what’s referring to,  

“What? I can’t call you little girl?” He scoffs, “I don’t mean nothing by it. Jus what you are s’all.”  

“Elvis.” She pouts, and he grins, pulling her closer, pressing his palms to her cheeks,  

“Just my itty-bitty baby girl.” She groans, annoyed he wasn’t taking her seriously, and stomps her foot. He cackles in response, drawing back.  

“See, what did I tell ya boys - She’s just a baby.” He says it with a sneer, and it suddenly doesn’t feel like kind-hearted teasing anymore. Louise can rapidly feel tears of frustration blurring her vision, frustrated at the situation, and at how it’s impossible to argue she’s not a baby when she’s crying at everything. Elvis frowns. “Oh, honey, there’s no need fo-” But they don’t stop coming, and he watches almost forlorn himself as a fat, salty teardrop slides down her cheek. He sighs, “C’mere with me.” He drags her out of the room away from the others and pulls her along all the way back up to his bathroom, “C’mon, here we go,” He picks her up to balance her on the vanity while she sniffles.  

“So-rry,” She manages to get out, while he gently wipes at her eyes with his thumbs, “Didn’t mean to, I know you were playing.” He smiles, eyes almost pleading, crinkling just the tiniest amount around the corners,  

“Thought you were gonna fight it out with me. I wasn’t expecting the waterworks, but I guess, well I guess, you’re jus’ a little over-emot’onal huh, darling?” He kisses the tears away, teardrop clinging to his lip as she struggles to compose herself. “Will you still come back tomorrow?” The question startles Louise enough for her to stop the tears,  

“Of course! Whenever you want me too.” Elvis brushes his hand through his hair, shoving some of it back into place.  

“Honey, I want you here all the time. Even when you’re bein’ silly.” He taps her nose and Louise giggles again. “Look, I think someone here is tired, so how’s abouts I drop you home?”  

Louise blinks back at him, the offer almost unheard of, “You want to?” He nods, his hair flopping back into disarray,  

“Yeah-huh, let’s wash your face, huh honey? And then I’ll take you home. Tuck my baby in for the night.” Louise blushes, this was exactly the kind of comment she’d just been protesting, and yet now it was making her head feel fuzzy and her tummy flip with anticipation. Elvis shifts his weight as he cocks a hip, holding his hand out for her hold for balance as she hops off the sink and as the sturdy weight of his fingers sink into hers Louise decides it’s not an argument that she has any desire to win.

[shartbaby1]

Hiiiii I’ve been looking at mlp infection au narration videos n such, and they’ve infected me…. (Pun intended) if you are any at all interested in body horror, analog vibes, mystery, funny parasites, and my biased opinions, hook is under cut..

Mlp “infection” au concept:

Tw: v minor body horror implications

The changelings disappeared one day. All of them were suddenly gone, the reformed or not, they all went missing in the middle of our annual hearts and hooves day parade. They didn’t notify anyone, no signs, no heads up, they all just left. We just hope our friends are okay, no one really leaves ponyville like this, in mass.

No one.

WELCOME TO MY FUNNY LIL THANG IVE BEEN COOKIN UP

I’ll try to be as spoiler free in my descriptions as possible, if ya want more detail lmk and I’ll make a separate post <3

Basically our story starts in ponyville, our main area, when thing start to go a lil weird

It started with the changelings, but ponies are starting to slowly go missing too, the sheltered town is in fear as they cower behind the city lines, unaware of the mayhem going on in the rest of the world..

Twighlight our main baddie, went out to look for a little while for the changelings, but ultimately got scared back to town by an, unsavory sight. She’s glad she’s okay and back home, although she’s having stomach aches, but it’s probably just the fear right?

Aughhh idk what I’m gonna call this I’ll get back to you on that, but there’s my hook. Idk if I’ll write it, make it into videos, or whatever. Videos are fun to make so I might try that who knows.

Lmk if you want more I have terrifying ideas in mind

[a-student-out-of-time]

//Honestly the only thing i didn't like in this arc was Makoto saying he was turning into Emina like?? That came out of nowhere and doesn't even make that much sense imo? Like yeah, taking Harumi's place was bad but I feel like the main reason we hate Emina is because she is an abuser who ruins everything and in a previous timeline a straight up murderer. Besides it's not like Makoto ever intended to take someone's place, he didn't even know about that when he received the letter. Overall this bit felt unnecessary to me and it would have been much easier and more sensical if the comparison was drawn between Iroha and Emina, since that gets picked up during the climax as well, rather than Makoto and Emina.

But that aside, this is easily my favorite arc in season 2. While the subject at hand was a very serious one the arc never felt too dense and gloomy like the puppetmaster arc (don't get me wrong, i love the Puppetmaster storyline and it had many memorable moments, but it's an arc i would not read again. Not necessarily because it's huge but because every second of it felt so serious that i felt tired reading it in some points), and the serious moments it did have were balanced by something sweet, funny or Ayato and Emina getting owned by whoever was around them.// (1/2)

//Yeah, this arc was a lot of fun to write ^^

//It was really cool not only getting to explore an area of DR that I feel like we haven't gotten nearly enough about- the classes that came before and what their environment was like- but also getting to see how the people from that class have changed.

//If I can offer some elaboration on what happened with Makoto, his concern wasn't meant to be fearing that he would end up like Emina, but that he did basically the same thing- taking someone else's rightful spot at Hope's Peak due to circumstances outside their control- but while Emina felt like she deserved it, Makoto didn't.

//Makoto, who I really enjoy as a character, is someone I feel like people tend to misunderstand in a lot of ways. For one, he never really wanted to be the Ultimate Hope, and people just kind of assigned that title to him. He's not really a humble hero so much as he is someone who has a lot of pressure exerted on him from above.

//Second, and this is something a lot more people overlook, it's that Makoto is capable of looking down on others and on himself. Sure, we see a lot of him as the happy optimistic hope boy in times of crisis, but we also see everything from his low-key passive-aggressive thoughts on everyone at the start to him telling Junko she's full of shit.

//Plus, Makoto was feeling more disillusioned by Hope's Peak than he ever was in the games when he learned the truth there. That, and being surrounded by knowledge and complaints about Emina and Ayato, it made him have a moment of crisis and insecurity over the idea that he'd be taking someone else's spot if he went.

//Mod Poi, Mod Honey and I have talked a lot about how people in-universe have this tendency to put Makoto on a pedestal, when he really doesn't feel like he belongs up there, nor does he want to be. That's something that I think would be interesting to explore more in detail from here on out.

//Although I do admit maybe it would've been stronger if it were more focused on Iroha, or maybe I could've presented it better, but that's what the aim was there. Hope that makes more sense.

//And yeah, Hitoshi being the one to beat Emina was something I don't think anyone was expecting at first, but setting that up was fun too : P

//As for the musical aspect, I tried to include them only at points where it made sense for the characters and offered elaborations. It was part of the initial idea for this arc and I really wanted to make it work, which I think I did pretty well ^^

//The best musical numbers are the ones that let you into the minds of the characters and help you understand and move things forward, rather than just being excuses for songs to be included.

[rocorambles]

Ruined Innocence

Pairing: Fallen Angel!Daichi x Angel!Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Manipulation, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Tentacles-ish, Forced Bondage, Corruption Kink, Dacryphilia

Summary: Not everyone is what they appear to be and you learn that the hard way.

A/N: This is for @seijorhi 's Deal with the Devil Collab! Masterlist can be found here.

You don’t love the way older angels endearingly pinch your cheeks and fondly ruffle the top of your head, sending you off on your way as they go about their chores. But you love the freedom to explore that comes with your new wings and you flit around heaven, adventuring out to the corners of the beautiful realm, eyes sparkling and mouth open wide in wonder as you see visions and scenes you wouldn’t even have been able to imagine back when you were a human.

Most angels congregate with each other, floating and meandering together as they perform their heavenly duties, content with harmony and unity. But maybe because your newly purified soul is still finding its way, you feel antsy, a very human adventurous streak still driving you as you sniff out remote and quiet corners, eager to see what’s around every corner.

There’s not a hint of wariness or sense of danger as you trek around, squealing as you continue testing your wings. Maybe it’s naivety, but who can blame you? You’re in heaven. Why would you ever think anything or anyone would harm you here?

Little do you know the archangels whisper to each other, sentries standing guard at every known opening between realms as the threat of warfare and espionage increases between heaven and hell after a devastating betrayal by one of God’s own most trusted archangels.

Sawamura Daichi.

It’s a name and a face that God has striked from heaven’s history, wiping the minds of anyone outside his inner circle clear of to maintain peace among the realm. And it works. Maybe too well.

A handsome brunette amusedly smiles at the lack of fear and recognition in your face as you cheerfully greet him, not a care in the world as you perk up and fly over to him, curious about the strange angel you’ve never met before.

Daichi had only meant to sneak in and out, hopefully spy and return back to hell with any secret information he could get out of his old fellow archangels. But like an attuned predator, his attention had snapped at the pretty little fawn he had seen playing in the outskirts of heaven, so vulnerable, so far from the rest of your feathery flock. And his mouth had salivated, something dark and yearning inside of him as he imagined how delicious corrupting your soft and sweet soul would be.

There’s no lack of powerful, beautiful, sensual female entities in hell willing to warm his bed. Daichi knows from firsthand experience, rarely spending a night alone. Even eternity is too short not to indulge in the sins of the flesh. But a part of him misses the docile submissive natures of angels, the thrill of power he feels knowing how easily his more angelic partners would listen and obey to his every whim and fancy. Playing with your food is all fun and games, but Daichi’s always found the actual act of devouring to be the best part of any meal. And you look absolutely mouth watering.

It doesn’t concern you that you’ve never seen this handsome angel before. Heaven is vast and as a novice angel, you’re sure there’s plenty of feathery companions you haven’t met yet. You’re more pleasantly surprised by the fact that there even is another angel in your secluded nook of the realm. And you’re quick to get comfortable with Daichi (although you blush when he so quickly tells you to call him by his first name).

He’s kind and funny. You can tell he’s actually listening to your every word and not just politely nodding like most of the other older angels you’ve met so far. He has a certain vibrancy to him that you can’t pinpoint, something so much more raw and vivid than what you’re used to from the more austere and demure palette of the rest of heaven.

But you startle when Daichi suddenly reaches out and slowly trails his fingers along the soft velvety plush of your wings, eliciting a startled gasp from you and a strange stirring feeling inside of you.

“They’re so pure and white.”

You try to laugh off the way your heart is pounding, the way your body wants to instinctively lean in closer to his warm touch as he continues languidly stroking your wings.

“Don’t be silly, Daichi. I’m sure your wings are just as pure and white, just like everyone else in this realm.”

You’re confused by his silent smile as he continues lacing his fingers between your downy feathers, but you don’t think to question it, not when it feels so right to just melt in the soothing feeling.

You don’t know how much time has passed, but you startle awake when someone nudges you, face heating in embarrassment when you realize you’ve fallen asleep quite literally in Daichi’s arms. But you shyly smile when he waves off your profuse apologies, playfully whispering that you can make it up to him by keeping your meeting with him a secret so he doesn’t get in trouble for slacking off on work to hang out with you.

Your lips are sealed and in return for your slightly naughty deal, your heart warms and your eyes sparkle when he somehow finds you almost every day. You’re tempted to make a game of it, wondering if you made more of an effort to hide if he’d still find you. But somehow deep inside you know he would, that it wouldn’t deter him at all. And that thought alone brings a smile to yourself.

Is this what having a soulmate feels like? Do angels even have soulmates?

You know marriage is still a thing in this realm and you can feel yourself falling more and more head over heels for Daichi, letting yourself dream and think of what life would be like married to him, by his side for all of eternity. It would be a wondrous thing. A life full of adventures, laughter, kindness, and warmth. A life where you know you could always depend on him and trust him.

So when he kisses you one day, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you in close, you don’t resist. Instead you sigh in bliss as you feel your lips meld against each other. He’s so gentle, so careful as he deepens your connection, coaxing you into following his lead as he maneuvers the two of you on the wispy cloud cocoon beneath your feet.

You feel so loved, so taken care of as he murmurs sweet praises in your ear about how beautiful you are, how soft you are, how sweet you taste. But when you find yourself horizontal beneath him, scandalously molded to his body, hesitation and apprehension have you reluctantly separating your lips.

“What’s wrong?”

His hand cups your cheek, brown eyes staring down at you in concern and you feel more at ease as you nuzzle against his palm, gently pecking the center of it, ignorant of the way brown eyes darken at the action.

He’s going to fucking ruin you.

“Can we- Can we slow down a bit? I love you, but we shouldn’t go any further until God blesses our relationship and we’re married. Right?”

It’s adorable how you know what’s right by heavenly standards, what you should and shouldn’t be doing. Yet there’s still a questioning lilt in your voice as you look at him for guidance, ready to take his lead and listen to whatever he says. You really are precious, aren’t you?

“We’ll be together forever. So what’s the harm in indulging ourselves now if we know that we’ll be bound for eternity anyway? Consider it a little sneak peek. Surely God will be forgiving if we go straight to him after this and ask him to bless our union.”

Hook. Line. Sinker.

He internally smirks at how your eyes light up when he expresses his desire to be with you. To his defense, it’s not a lie. He truly does want you with him forever, although he doubts it’s in the way you’re thinking. He’s no mind reader, but he can imagine the scenes of soft radiant glowing days and peaceful strolls hand in hand that race through your mind when you think of love. Unfortunately for you, the reality you’re being sucked into is much darker and much more stationary. (He sincerely hopes you appreciate the costs and efforts he’s gone through to spruce up his bedroom and bed as much as possible for your long-term stay considering it’s the only place he intends for you to see for at least a few centuries.)

This time you welcome him when he swoops down to capture your lips once more, your arms gently wrapping around the back of his neck as you pull him down even closer to you. You bare your neck, easily following his silent commands as he trails kisses down from the corner of your lips to the side of your neck, gasping and arching into him when his tongue swipes a hot wet line at the junction of your shoulder.

You’re nervous as he coaxes you out of your delicate clothing and his cock twitches in interest at how you try to instinctively shield your body from his eyes, your arms crossing your chest, thighs clenching together. So different from the shameless females down below and he enjoys how it feels like he’s unwrapping an exclusive present as he eases your body, comfortingly kissing you as he guides your hands above your head and nudges your legs apart until he’s in between them.

You moan, writhing underneath him in a way that makes him groan as he sucks one of your nipples, rolling the other between his fingers. And he can’t resist how right it feels to grind and rut his clothed cock against your bare core, chuckling at how you whine and get flustered as he whispers to you about how wet you are, how much of a mess you’re making of his clothing.

You’re so sensitive, so reactive. He wonders if you could cum just like this, nipples toyed with and humping like wild beasts. You certainly look like you’re almost there and a mean smile splays across his face when he wonders what God would think if he saw his baby angel now, a lewd blissful expression blatant on your face, wanton moans filling the air. But time is limited especially when he’s not on his own turf and as much as he’d like to ruin you over and over again right here, right now, he knows he needs to deal the final blow.

He’s quick to shed his own clothing, firmly wrapping your spread legs around him as he finally sinks his cock inch by inch inside of you, throwing his own head back in pleasure as your tight wet walls wrap around him, eagerly sucking him in and clenching around him. It’s like you were made for him, made for this. And his eyes ravenously watch as you mindlessly blabber on and on about feeling full, feeling good.

He doesn’t usually like noisy bed mates, but you might be the one exception and he revels in your wails and broken cries as he begins to move his hips back and forth, observing how his fat cock obscenely stretches your pretty folds as he thrusts in and out. It’s impressive how you’re still hanging by a single fraying strand of consciousness when even seasoned succubi have succumbed into mindless pleasure-addicted messes from his cock. And he gifts the slipping clarity of your mind that recognizes him and calls his name over and over again with skillful circles around your clit, relentless until you’re thrashing and convulsing, practically screaming as you fall over the edge, pussy milking him and begging for his essence.

Who is he to deny you what your body wants? What your body needs? What he himself wants and needs?

So he finally lets himself go, sealing the deal with his own release, eyes twinkling in crazed amusement as his own wings finally flair out, revealing themselves to you for the first time as his body lances with pleasure. A sound halfway between a laugh and a groan escapes him as fear has you tightening around him and if he thought you looked beautiful before, you’re absolutely stunning now, shock and disbelief slicing across your perfect angelic face when you fully grasp the importance of his pitch black wings that shadow the both of you.

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart. I thought you loved me.”

There’s no point in pretending to be gentle now and he forcefully pins your body down, slamming his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, biting on your lower lip and lapping at the blood that drips from your now marred face. Delicious. So fucking exquisite.

It’s tempting to continue and as he pulls away to regard you, he can feel arousal swirling inside of him at the sight of glistening tears streaming down your face. But he’s curious about your reaction, eager to hear what you have to say about this utter betrayal.

“A fallen angel…I slept with a fallen angel. How am I ever going to face God now?”

You’re not even looking at him anywhere, eyes glazed over as you mumble to yourself, mind still trying to process everything. And as pretty as you are with agony and sickening realization settling into your features, he scowls at the mention of God, irritation swelling inside of him at how fast you are to think of Him over Daichi, the fallen angel literally still inside of you.

He’s swift in his punishment, reminding you exactly where you are and who you’re with right now as he sharply juts his hips in a way that forces a surprised shriek from you as his cock rubs against your still sensitive walls.

“God isn’t your problem anymore, love. Look at your wings.”

Every part of you still in denial screams at you not to listen, to pretend none of this has happened, is happening. You want to believe God can make this right, that he’ll surely forgive you. But as if you’re in one of those inevitable horror films you used to watch as a human, your head slowly turns to the side, body going rigid when you see the expanse of ebony feathers where heavenly white used to be.

Now this reaction is much more satisfying and Daichi inhales your fear, a cold smile on his face as he watches you flail, wings wildly flapping as you try to somehow shake off the color, praying that it’s all a lie, that it’s not entirely irreversible. But he pins your wrists above your head when you attempt to painfully pluck out your own offensive feathers, peppering humiliatingly affectionate kisses all over your face to placate you.

“Please stop. Isn’t this enough? You got what you wanted. Tricked the silly angel. Made me an exile, a monster. There’s no place for me in heaven anymore. So just leave me alone. Please.”

You shudder at the dark laugh that seems to echo in your ears with his face right besides yours, cringing when you feel his wings droop down to rest against your own in an action far too intimate for what the two of you are.

“It’s not enough, darling. It’ll never be enough. But you’re right about one thing. You’re no longer welcomed in heaven, so let me bring you to your new home.”

You barely have time to understand the meaning of his words before you’re being whisked away, strong arms holding you tightly to a broad chest, the air around you growing darker, heavier, warmer. And then suddenly everything is still and you gasp as you’re thrown onto a silky plush surface, scrambling to sit up only to freeze in terror as you take in the grand and imposing bedroom you’re in, cold realization of exactly whose bed you’re currently on and what realm you’re in sinking in.

“No no no no no...At least let me go to Earth!”

You make to lunge off the bed, but an eerily familiar body forces you back down, once comforting brown eyes now only making anxiety churn alarmingly inside of you.

“I know it’s hard to believe me after all the lies, but I wasn’t lying about one thing. I do intend to be with you forever, so get comfortable, angel.”

You recoil at the mocking sneer associated with the pet name, the ironic use of the word disintegrating any fight left in you when the true hopelessness of your situation makes itself known. And Daichi watches in satisfaction at how you don’t even twitch as black shadows coil around your wrist and ankles, pulling you into a spread-eagled position, leaving your beautiful naked figure on full display for him.

But as despondent as you are mentally and emotionally, your body is already well on its way to adjusting and molding to his desires and he hungrily eyes the way it betrays you, arching and silently begging for more as additional shadow tendrils snake their way on and around every inch of you, some tendrils beginning to make their way in your gaping mouth, your still cum-filled hole, and oh...maybe he should have warned you that he planned on training all your holes, but he does so love the way your eyes blow wide open when a curios tendril wiggles its way into your puckered hole.

“Consider this your new full-time job, angel. Can’t have you living here rent-free after all. Now be good while I’m away and try not to be so loud. Wouldn’t want anyone else to hear you and decide they want a taste of a new fallen angel. I guarantee you no one else down here in hell is going to be as patient and kind as I am. Welcome to your new forever home.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, not that you’d be able to utter anything remotely intelligible around your screams and moans and the tendrils fucking your mouth. And as he makes his way to another meeting with Satan, he proudly flaunts his pitch black wings, a thoughtful smile on his face as he thinks of all the plans he has for you.

[heliads]

Hostage Situation

When Y/N L/N is kidnapped by Peter Pan to serve as a hostage and coerce her kingdom into leaving Neverland alone, she can only laugh. The mutual hatred between her and Pan, however, may lose its fire after a while.

masterlist

Your feet tread methodically around the grounds. You loop around the castle, walking past scraggly bushes and dying trees, eyes occasionally flickering to the large mountains in the distance. Your mother and father keep an impressive castle, but their focus rarely extends to the upkeep of the grounds themselves. Kings and Queens don’t exactly bother themselves with gardening- that will fall to the servants or, when you’ve managed to bore yourself enough, you.

Technically, you should be back in the castle. You are a princess, after all, and princesses rarely roam about the grounds in dirty, faded boots that have walked more miles than the most experienced of messengers. This being said, you’re not sure anyone will spare you enough thought to care. You may be a princess, but only in blood and title. Anything else must be fought for, and you’ve given up such pastimes long ago.

You suppose you’re still musing over this, which is why you don’t see the shadow swooping down over you until it’s too late. By the time you feel the uncanny stillness, or notice that an unusual darkness has swarmed around you, the shadow’s eerily human arms have wrapped around you, and your feet are already lifting from the ground. You struggle, but it is in vain, and soon you’re watching trees and rivers pass miles below you. You lock eyes with the shadow being, but its glowing white gaze betrays nothing but an emotionless urge to complete orders. Wherever you’re going, someone is waiting for you, someone who is controlling this shadow.

This realization troubles you more than you like. You don’t much like the idea of being taken somewhere, and you’re not about to just sit around and let it happen. You wait until the shadow swoops low over a rolling set of hills, and begin to fight back with renewed vigor. Although your blows tend to sink through the only somewhat corporeal shadow, you manage to stun it enough that it drops you. You fall through the air, catching yourself in the boughs of trees and scrambling down. 

Your feet pound on the dirt as you sprint away from the shadow, but even this effort is useless. It appears out of nowhere in front of you, and as you skid to a stop it raises its hands and a wave of shadow rushes from it. The darkness pools around you like ink, rising to swallow you whole. You can only see one last thing before the darkness engulfs you completely: the white beacons of light that are the shadow’s eyes. Then there is nothing to see at all, and you can feel yourself falling to the ground.

When you wake up again, you find yourself lying down. You’ve been propped up against a tree, and when you open your eyes, you realize you’re in the middle of a forest. It’s a different forest than the one you were just in, and at a different time of day. The shadow must have continued the journey while you were still unconscious. You shiver slightly at the thought- wherever you are, it won’t be good. You move to sit up, but a wave of dizziness yawns open in your stomach and you lean back once more. You go to steady yourself, but your hands don’t move- they’ve been tied together with rough rope.

You had done your best to stay silent, but it’s not like you’re alone. Across the clearing, about a dozen or more boys dressed in robes of faded brown dance around a campfire. An almost maniacal glee spreads across each of their faces as they whirl and jump around, dancing to the haunting sound of a flute. The music stops after a second, but the boys continue dancing. You shiver slightly, then straighten up as a new boy approaches you. This one is dressed not in the russet tones of the others, but instead a dark, forest green. He must be their leader.

He crouches down in front of you, eyes gleaming with triumph. “Welcome, princess.” You raise an eyebrow at his tone. “An interesting welcome, sure. Nothing says fun like ropes and a kidnapping.” The boy just chuckles. “It wasn’t like you made it easy for us.” You shrug, eyes wandering away from the boy to skim the trees surrounding you. An idea is starting to click into place in your head. There’s a story you heard once, from a traveling merchant. There was an island deep in the ocean, full of boys who never seemed to grow old. They were led by one in particular, one boy who could make grown men shiver in their boots.

Your attention snaps back to the boy. Now you really look at him, at his knife-sharp grin and the cool confidence he wears like a glove. His smirk widens as if he can read your mind. “Do you know where you are, love?” You sigh, leaning your head back against the tree in exasperation. “Let me guess, I’m on Neverland.” The boy spread his hands as if in pride, and you resist the urge to groan.

If this is Neverland, then the boy in front of you must be Peter Pan. And you have heard enough about Peter Pan to know that any hour spent with this devil of a boy will be absolute hell.

Pan notices the realization sink into the girl’s eyes. She must have heard of him, he assumes, or she wouldn’t be looking at him like that. However, unlike the other visitors, there isn’t a shred of fear in her gaze. No, she just looks like she’s been dealt an unfortunate round of cards, rather annoyed instead of outright afraid. Pan’s not sure how he feels about that.

Y/N considers the rope tying her wrists. “Well, Peter, are you going to untie me or just let me stew here for a while?” Pan frowns. “It’s Pan. And no, you may be a princess but that doesn’t mean we’re all going to bow to you whenever you ask. There’s only one monarch in Neverland, and I’m afraid that title belongs to me. You’ll have to sit tight until they find out you’re missing.” Y/N scoffs, and then her eyes grow alight with suppressed laughter. “Wait- I think I know why I’m here. You’re trying to use me as a hostage.”

Y/N laughs even harder now, and Pan frowns. “I’m not sure why that’s funny. Your kingdom has been infringing upon my waters for a long time now. I intend to stop them.” Y/N shakes her head, doing her best to bite back a grin. “No, I get it. Great motive, but I’m afraid you chose the wrong hostage.” She fixes him with a cool look, finally keeping her laughter in check. “I’ve been kidnapped a couple of times before. Trust me, they won’t come for me. Not the guards, not my parents. I’m not useful to them.”

Pan frowns, curious despite himself. “What do you mean, you’re not useful to them?” Y/N shrugs. “The reason my parents became the King and Queen is because they were able to channel the power of my ancestors. Every monarch in my kingdom uses some magical artifact to gain increased strength, life, wisdom, you name it. The only problem is that it doesn’t work with me, so I’ve ceased to be a worry to them. I can’t use magic at all- not for them, not for you. You can hold me on this island for as long as you want, but it won’t work. They’re not coming after me.”

The words are light, spoken with the last traces of a laugh, but Pan still feels his stomach clench with some unnameable emotion. Maybe Y/N is meant to be a Lost Girl, maybe she’s more lost than any of them. This though alone fills him with loathing. If she’s a Lost Girl, then she’s supposed to stay on the island, even beyond her sentence as a hostage. Pan, however, is fairly sure that he doesn’t want to see this girl longer than a second. She had better be wrong about her parents, because Pan is certain that he’s going to end up killing her before the guards arrive on the shores of Neverland to rescue her.

You wake early, just before dawn begins to stain the tops of the trees with the light of morning. You stand up, stretching, and glance around the clearing. The Lost Boys appear to have gone to sleep, Pan included. They’ve left you alone for now, but you have no doubt that they’re still watching. Besides, it’s not like it would matter anyway- there’s nowhere for you to go. You’re on an island, after all, and there’s no way you could swim far enough to reach another nation’s shores.

Careful not to make a sound, you meander over to the campfire. Your hopes are proven correct when you spy a knife lying abandoned in the dirt. You pick it up, beginning to saw away at your ropes as you walk out of the clearing. You toss the cut ropes behind you, tucking the knife into your boot just in case. On an island like this, you never know when you might need a weapon.

You end up walking for about ten minutes before you get the feeling that you’re being watched. You roll your eyes. “I know you’re there, you can come out now.” One second you’re alone, and the next you’re being shoved up against a tree, an arm against your throat to stop you from moving. “You know, I’m fairly sure escaping prisoners aren’t supposed to call out to their jailers.” You scoff, pushing Pan’s arm away from you. “I appreciate the concern, Peter, but I’m not trying to escape. I’m just having a good time exploring the forest.”

You can see Pan’s eyes darken when you use his first name, but he ignores the jibe. “Who said I care about your wellbeing? I’m just making sure that you aren’t getting any ideas about an escape.” You give him a look, continuing on along the trails of the forest. “Anyone stuck on an island with you would think about escape.” He just chuckles, walking alongside you. “Tell that to my Lost Boys. They’ve chosen to leave the world behind to live on Neverland.” You smirk at him. “And what a sorry, sorry choice they’ve made.” He glares at you, but you just grin.

If you’re going to have to stay on this accursed island, you at least intend to enjoy yourself. 

Y/N wakes up every morning to walk the island. Pan’s not sure why she bothers- there’s nowhere for her to go. Yet every dawn she wakes like clockwork, opening her eyes and beginning her wanderings. Pan has wondered if she’s awoken by nightmares, and that’s why she gets up so early, but if she’s plagued by night terrors Y/N is very good at hiding it. She doesn’t seem concerned at all, just keen to see the forest. Pan’s long since given up on the binding ropes- she just finds some way to remove them. 

Pan’s watching his Lost Boys practice fighting when he senses another pair of eyes watching the sparring boys. He glances up to see Y/N, half hidden among the trees. Her gaze is glued to the boys, and he can almost picture her dissecting every move. There was an opening, when John stumbled, there was an opportunity, when Devin swung too low. Pan’s never heard of a princess that could fight, but if there ever was one, he’s sure that it would be her. Y/N lacks many of the key characteristics of a princess- charm being one of them. He wouldn’t be surprised if she could hold her own in a fight.

After the match ends with a triumphant Devin raising his fists to the sky, Pan steps forward. Instantly, the eyes of the Lost Boys all flash to him, including Y/N’s. He doesn’t speak that often, usually allowing Felix to lead classes. When he does have something to say, the Lost Boys tend to listen. Pan gestures for Y/N to step out of the grove of trees. “Well, princess, care to join the ring? Or are you all talk as we thought?”

She laughs, but Pan can see the glint of a challenge rising in her eyes. Y/N steps forward, and Pan points out a Lost Boy to act as her opponent. “Nick, I’d usually tell you to not rough her up too bad, but to be honest, I think we all want to see her get punched.” Y/N smirks. “If that’s true, why don’t you come down here and fight me yourself?” It’s a challenge, certainly, but Pan speaks before it can gain traction with the Lost Boys. “I’d never dirty my hands fighting someone like you.” Y/N, wisely, says no more, and shifts into a fighting stance opposite Nick.

To be honest, Pan does have to feel bad for the guy. No matter what he tries, Y/N throws him away like he’s nothing. She blocks his attacks, she punches and kicks and basically tears the guy to shreds. It would be humiliating were it not for the fact that Y/N is so obviously better than anyone on this island except for Pan and maybe Felix. Y/N flashes Pan a grin, extending a hand lightly coated in blood that does not belong to her. “Want to send another Lost Boy into the ring, or have you accepted the fact that I’m not going down easily?” Pan returns her smile. “I think I’m good.” And maybe, he just might be okay with all of this.

You’re relaxing by the campfire in the morning when you first hear the sounds of running footsteps. After that fight with Nick (although fight isn’t exactly the right word for it, maybe instead you could call it a bloodbath), the other Lost Boys accepted you immediately. Even Peter seems to approve of you now, and you catch him smiling softly at you across a clearing when he thinks you can’t see. You’re not sure why you notice, or why you keep thinking about it, but you’re fairly sure he shouldn’t linger behind your eyes as long as he does.

You look up at the swiftly approaching pair of Lost Boys, expecting to see them collapse in laughter, but the boys instead look worried, faces drawn with anxiety. You stand up, suddenly tense. What could make these boys look so nervous? They run over to Peter, practically tripping over themselves in an attempt to make it to their leader. Even from here, you can hear their words. “Guards- a ship full- the king and queen- they’re attacking us.”

You can see Peter’s face freeze. He speaks to them quickly. “They were flying the flags of Y/N’s kingdom? You’re sure of it?” They nod. “They’re pouring down the beaches now. They’ll be here any second.” Peter curses under his breath, calling to the rest of the boys to grab weapons and defend the camp. You race over to him. “I can fight. Give me a weapon.” Peter stares at you. “You’d fight against your parents?” You nod. “They’re not here for me, they’re here for the magic on the island. Trust me, they wouldn’t come all this way if they didn’t think they could get something out of it.”

Peter’s brow furrows as he realizes what you’re saying. “You think that’s why they’re here?” You nod. “There’s no other reason. I’ve been kidnapped before, they never came. They’re not here for me.” You repeat, and Peter’s jaw clenches. “Get a sword, you can fight with the others.” He starts to move away, then steps back to you. “And Y/N? Stay safe.” You nod, returning the assurance of safety. Then the two of you run your separate ways, each desperate to save the island that’s somehow become your home in a matter of weeks.

You pull on a hooded cloak so the guards can’t recognize you. You can’t take the chance that they’d try to bring you back to the ship, not when you’re supposed to be fighting for Neverland. Your sword moves in a never-stopping arc, cutting through armor and slicing the soldiers like the warriors of old. At last, you pause for a second, noting that the situation on the beach has cleared. Yet you don’t see your parents, even though the Lost Boys said they were here. A chill rises in your throat as you realize what must be happening, and you turn and race back to the camp. Back to Peter.

Sure enough, your parents have found him. They’re using all of their magic against him, doing their best to take him down. Peter is strong, far stronger than either of them. Yet the two of them and additional guards against one Lost Boy isn’t a fair fight, even if it’s against Peter. Your heart is pounding in your throat. You’re going to have to make a decision, one you promised yourself you’d never have to make. 

You fling your arms up, and a wall of magic slams into your parents. They crumple to the ground along with the guards and lie there, unmoving. You can tell that they’re still breathing, albeit slowly. Peter’s gaze flashes from the suddenly unconscious guards to you, who stands there still, breathing heavily. Your arms are still raised from the burst of magic, and you lower them slowly. His gaze seems to burn right through you, and you begin to speak quickly, desperate to say something, anything, to stop the cutting look in his eyes.

“They never saw me, their backs were turned. We can get them onto the ships and away. They’ll think it was you, that you were too powerful for them. They won’t return. They won’t know about me.” Peter steps forward, but your feet feel leaden in your boots. You’re not sure you could move if you tried. His voice is quiet. “You do have magic.” You nod hesitantly. “I didn’t want them to know. I knew if they found out they would use me as a weapon, and I didn’t want to live as their blade.”

Understanding begins to dawn in Peter’s eyes. “You didn’t need the artifacts because you already had power of your own. You were smart to hide it from them.” His brow furrows again, confusion sweeping over him. “Why would you show me? Why would you trust me?” You look away. “You let me into your island, into the Lost Boys, without knowing about my powers for a second. I served no use to you, not even as a hostage. You didn’t want me here because of how I could help you, you wanted me here because of who I was. That’s why.”

Peter’s quiet for a second, and you begin to think that you’ve said too much. “They’ll probably find out after a while. I can board another ship, make my way back to the Enchanted Forest. They won’t bother you if I leave.” Peter says nothing, and you almost fear that he won’t say anything at all. That he’ll let you leave without another word, too wounded over this lie. Then his hand is on your cheek, guiding your eyes back to him, and he kisses you.

He kisses you for a second, then breaks away. His face is inches from yours, his breath hot on your cheeks. “I’m not letting them take you. Not now, not ever. I don’t want you to leave, Y/N. You’ve been a Lost Girl since the day you arrived and I can’t let you go because you want to protect us.” A small smile quirks at the corners of your lips. “What happened to there only being one monarch on the island?” Peter laughs quietly. “I’ll make an exception for you.”

[nagisa-shiota-worthy-shit]

Tinder Matches

Karmagisa Week 2021, day 1 prompt: Matching  wordcount: 1600

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The fact that Nagisa had a tinder account wasn’t something he really shared with anyone. At the time, he’d created it as a joke, a way of amusing his friend’s stupid suggestion. According to Kayano, it truly could be the solution to his lack of experience in the love life department. Nagisa hadn’t been too sure about that. He was more than aware of the application’s status and, no, he wasn’t really interested in finding people to just have sex with. 

Yet, somehow, he still found himself swiping through people on the app one night. He was alone in his room, a little bored, and perhaps even a little too tired after a day’s worth of teaching. None of the people he came across really interested him much, although he had to admit that he’d probably give them a shot if he saw them in real life, just because he wanted to believe in the best in people. 

This app, however, gave little to no information on someone’s personality. Then again, some people were very clear about looking for someone rich to provide for them, which Nagisa guessed his teacher’s salary wasn’t exactly right for, and he supposed that also said something about their personality and what they were like in a relationship. Nothing Nagisa really wished to deal with. 

After swiping left on complete strangers in fear of one secretly being a stalker, murderer, or just having horrible table manners, he suddenly stopped when a familiar face popped up on his screen. the red hair, the golden eyes, that all too familiar smirk. Nagisa recognized exactly who he was seeing, yet somehow couldn't exactly process the idea. it just didn't seem entirely right. 

Someone like Karma wouldn't need to use tinder, right? 

He found himself staring at the title picture for a while before he realized he could scroll through and see more. it wasn't like he didn't know what karma looked like... but... he sure was curious about what karma was putting out there. 

It didn't appear to be all that special at first. A selfie in a casual outfit, a picture of him at a bar with people Nagisa didn't recognize, a traveling picture, but the last picture was something else. This picture appeared professionally taken, or at the very least it wasn't a selfie and the picture was set up. Karma was posing in it, after all. Posing in a suit, the jacket in his hand, thrown over his shoulder as he glanced at the camera with those devilish eyes. Nagisa was nothing but taken back by it. 

He shouldn't be staring, should he? This was his close friend and fellow assassin graduate, the staring was just weird. Yet, somehow, he couldn't look away from the picture and thought back to when he’d first met Karma, so many years ago now. He’d felt the same sense of awe back then. Karma was just so perfect, how couldn’t he. This picture, him as an adult looking like a literal model, was like a visual representation of everything Nagisa used to feel Karma was. 

The sudden noise of the train passing near his apartment woke him up from his state. suddenly turning very red, he frantically moved his hands and went to swipe left, except his phone nearly fell out of his hands in the process. He caught it, hands all over the screen and, through his own fingers, he could see Karma being swiped right. 

no. no nonono. please go back

Nagisa fumbled with his phone, hoping to undo his actions, but before he could do anything, a message popped up on the screen. He was surprised by it to say the least. 

‘you've got a match’

A match. He matched. but that meant... Karma had swiped right on him as well?! why would he- probably as a joke. he probably came across nagisa and thought it was funny, right? Nagisa had to assume that was the truth, although deep in his mind a thought echoed around saying the exact opposite. Maybe he wanted it to not be a joke.

After panicking for a hot minute, his phone made a ping sound, indicating he’d gotten a message. He was too scared to look. Somehow, before even opening the message, he could already sense who it was from. Sure enough, once he finally did gather the courage to check the notification, his fears were proven right. This was the worst situation. 

Karma: well well well, didnt take you as the tinder type

He considered ignoring it. What was that called again? Ghosting? Yes, he could ghost Karma. If he didn’t respond to the message, perhaps nothing else unfavourable would be happening. Well, Karma would probably mention it to him the next time they spoke in real life. That would probably be even worse. It wasn’t like he could ignore Karma for the rest of his life. It wasn’t like he wanted to. 

Nagisa: i'm not

Karma: yet here you are.

Karma: swiping right on me ;)

The cockiness almost oozed out of the message. Nagisa was left frowning at his phone. The main thought going through his mind was that Karma was probably enjoying this. He was a sadist like that. He was having fun while Nagisa wanted to bury himself as deep underground as possible. 

Nagisa: you swiped right first! 

Nagisa: mine was an accident

Nagisa: I was surprised to see you on here and my phone dropped

Karma: ah, so you wouldn't swipe right on me :( am I too ugly?

Nagisa felt his face grow hot. He probably shouldn't look at his reflection if he wanted to save himself from the image of his head being a tomato. He didn't think karma was ugly. quite the opposite, actually. Not that he could say that. That would be weird. So, he tried to find some middle ground answer, not calling karma ugly or the opposite of that. 

Nagisa: I never said that, I just didn't intend to swipe right on someone i'm already friends with. 

There, no way that could be taken wrong. He considered sending an additional message, clarifying just how dropping his phone led to the swiping right, but decided against it. It would sound just a little too defensive. 

Karma: well,its nice this gives us a chance to talk again anyways. appears youve been too busy to answrr my texts. 

An awkward laugh escaped Nagisa as he looked away from his phone, forgetting Karma couldn't actually see his reaction. There was no reason to avoid eye contact when there was no eye contact to begin with. Still, he shared the sentiment. He kind of had forgotten to keep contact with people lately. 

He blamed the new workplace. After finishing his days as a trainee, the new school he worked at was surprisingly more demanding. He always knew being a full time teacher was a lot of work, especially now that there was no one to keep an eye on him and remind him of certain teaching specifics of the school he taught at. Of course, the work was rewarding enough for him to barely think about his loss of contacts. He had a habit of treating those too loosely anyways. 

Nagisa: ive just been working

Karma: workaholic

Nagisa: you literally have more work hours than me

Karma: and somehow you still spend as much time working as me. 

The conversation went on like that for a bit, them going back and forth at each other. Overall, it wasn't a bad time. Nagisa kind of forgot about the actual use of the app, and the fact that he could just DM Karma on line whenever he wanted to, until Karma managed to bring back the conversation to it. 

Karma: you know, usually when people match, they try to meet up for a date

Of course Nagisa was aware that that's what the app was for, it was sort of the reason he’d gotten it as well. However, he didn't think anything would lead anywhere for him, let alone with karma. surely karma wasn't being serious. it would be weird to go on a date with your friend. 

and still, Nagisa endulged him, being so stupid as to ask further. 

Nagisa: where do people even go on tinder dates?

Karma: anywhere they want to, usually just for drinks, easy way to lead them home a little tipsy afterwards

Nagisa: okay that sounds creepy

Karma: if that's not your style I could always take you out for dinner. 

Karma: There's this new sushi restaurant near my place, looks like something you'd love. 

somehow, he actually considered it. On any other day, that would sound insane to nagisa. Since when would he consider dating karma? Wait, not dating, going on a date with Karma. There was a difference. Sushi did sound great, and so did Karma's company. He supposed he hadn't really been out like that in a while. date or not. 

Karma: i can even pick you up, very romantic 

The word hit Nagisa a little hard. Romantic. What would that entail? Would they sit opposite of each other, send cute glances, maybe even hold hands beside the table? He wanted his mind to hate the idea of that, doing those things with his friend, ruining the relationship they already had. But, he also wanted to give in, say yes, and see where things would lead. At the very least, he'd have a fun night with good food. 

Nagisa: you have a day in mind?

Karma: how's Saturday?

Nagisa: Saturday's fine

Karma: it's a date!

[angel-riki]

Dazed & Dreaming {Ch. 4}

summary: Y/N's life was always quite normal, some may even consider it boring. However, Y/N enjoyed her simple life and the little pleasures it brought. Unfortunately, that all changed the day she found out her best friend's biggest secret. Her discovery leads her down a rabbit hole of a new and confusing world she never knew existed. She must now navigate this new life filled with love, fear, and the supernatural. What awaits her down this path?

pairing: enhypen x reader (vampire au)

warnings: light swearing

words: 1,409

chapters: [Ch.1] [Ch.2] [Ch.3]

~~~~~~~~~~

You stood at your locker while stuffing all of the books needed for this weekend's homework into your backpack. You tapped your chin while scanning your locker. Hmm I think that's everything I'll need. You looked down at your phone to check the time. However, the date caught your eye instead as the realization hit you. Oh my god. Jake's birthday is tomorrow. You had completely forgotten. Jeez I'm a terrible friend, you sighed. There had just been so much going on recently, it had completely slipped your mind. You hadn't even gotten him a present yet. You stood there contemplating what to get him when suddenly, almost as if on cue, Sunoo appeared.

"Hey, Y/N!" He said with a cheerful smile.

"Oh, hi Sunoo!" You smiled back, although you were a bit confused. You and Sunoo had never really talked much before. You just met him for the first time last week, what business could he have with you?

"Sorry to bother you Y/N, but I just had a quick question for you," he began.

"Oh sure, what is it?" You ask. His eyes lit up as he continued.

"Sooo, it's Jake's birthday tomorrow and we were thinking of throwing him a surprise party! And since you're one of his closest friends, I was wondering if you'd like to help plan it with me and the rest of the boys." You were caught off guard by his request, it was almost like he knew that you were just thinking about Jake's birthday. What a funny coincidence. Regardless, you were excited to help out.

"Oh, that's a great idea, I'd love to help!" You replied.

"Yay! This is gonna be so fun, I can't wait!" He was full of excitement as he spoke. You chuckled. Cute. You and Sunoo continued discussing the party for a few minutes and it was decided that you were going bring the cake. You loved to bake so you were more than happy to do so. Shortly after Sunoo went off on his way, Heeseung approached you.

"Hey, Y/N," he said warmly. "Sunoo told me that you're in on the surprise party now, and I was actually going to grab some supplies after school so I was wondering if you'd like to come with me,"

"I'd love to," you said, smiling at him.

"Great," he replied, seeming quite happy that you accepted his offer. He didn't know what it was about you but as soon as you became friends, he wanted to be around you all the time. Something about you was just so addicting to him.

*****

You and Heeseung stood in the party aisle staring at the huge array of party supplies and decorations.

"Wow, there's quite a lot to pick from," you said. Heeseung nodded in agreement. Eventually, you both decided on some simple streamers and balloons as well as some birthday themed plates and napkins. Everything was black and ivory colored since those were Jake's favorite colors.

"This'll do," Heeseung said, satisfied.

"Yeah, let's go pay," you said while interlocking your arm with his. He had a difficult time keeping a smile from creeping onto his face as you did so.

You decided to go to the self-checkout since you were only buying a few things. You scanned all the items before putting them into a paper bag. The total appeared on the screen as you reached for your wallet.

"Oh don't worry about it, I got it," Heeseung said while pulling out his card.

"Don't be silly, I owe you for driving me around all the time. Let me pay, please?" You asked, although it was more of a command.

"Nope, I'm not letting you." He said with a teasing grin.

"Well, you're too late." You said as you beat him to the card slot. You faced him and stuck out your tongue. He rolled his eyes as you both laughed.

"I'll pay you back later." Heeseung said, not wanting to give up.

"Whatever you say," you retorted.

After you left the store, you headed back to the parking lot. Heeseung unlocked the car and put the bag in the backseat (he insisted on carrying it). He then shut the door before turning to you.

"Have you gotten a gift for Jake yet?" He asked.

"Uh, no not yet..." you answered. You were a bit embarrassed to admit that you still didn't have a present for him when his birthday was tomorrow.

"Perfect, I haven't either actually. Do you wanna go look around some shops and see what we can find?" He suggested.

"Oh, yeah. That sounds good," you said, relieved that you were both in the same boat.

You decided to check out the nearest clothing shop. After entering the store, you began looking around for something that Jake might like. Heeseung began his own search as well. You were looking through a rack of coats when you saw a huge faux fur coat. You giggled at the thought of Jake wearing it. You slipped it on and called out to Heeseung.

"Oh this is totally up Jake's alley, dontcha think?" You asked while striking a pose in the ridiculous coat. Heeseung snorted at you and nodded.

"Totally." He agreed sarcastically.

You continued to look through the rack a bit more before you found another hideous jacket. This one was neon green and covered in random zippers and buckles. It was incredibly tacky. So of course, you put it on.

"Gosh I look terrible in this. Then again, I don't think anyone would actually look good in it." You chuckled. Heeseung laughed along and shook his head.

"I think you'd look nice in anything," he uttered under his breath. Thankfully, you didn't hear him because if you did, your heart probably would of burst.

After looking around a bit longer, you eventually settled on a brown corduroy jacket and a bottle of cologne that you thought fit Jake's taste. Heeseung had picked out a nice pair of sneakers and a small ring. You both checked out before making your way back to the car. It had gotten rather chilly outside as you shivered and rubbed your hands together in attempt to keep them warm. Heeseung noticed you shivering and set both of the shopping bags down (he insisted on carrying them again) before turning to you and wrapping his hands around yours. You were caught off guard by his gesture. Your heartbeat picked up rapidly. He kept his hands around yours for a moment before looking back up at you.

"Better?" he asked with a kind smile.

"Y-yeah, thanks," you were definitely much warmer now, considering how hot in the face you had become. Luckily, it just seemed like your face was flushed from the cold. At least that's what you hoped Heeseung assumed. You made it back to the car and quickly climbed into the passenger seat as Heeseung put the rest of the bags in the back. He then returned to the driver's seat and immediately turned on the heat.

The ride home was pleasent as you both chatted and sang along to the radio. You were surprised to find out that Heeseung has a lovely singing voice. Could he get any more perfect?? You were a little bit sad when you arrived at your house, not wanting your time with him to end. You thanked him for taking you shopping as you climbed out of the car.

"No problem, thanks for coming with me. I had fun." He said happily.

"I had fun too," you said. You smiled and waved goodbye as he drove away. After heading inside, you went to grab your phone out of your jacket. As you stuck your hand in your pocket, you felt something else in there along with your phone. It felt like paper of some kind. You pulled it out to see what it was. It was a $20 bill. You stared at it in confusion before you realized where it came from. Oh my god, how and when did he even put this here?? You rolled your eyes and giggled. Heeseung did promise to pay you back after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I didn't intend for the shopping trip to take up the entirety of it, but here we are hahaha. Regardless, thank you for reading and supporting the series, it really helps me stay motivated! :)

~Elle <3

[ladykissingfish]

On A Cruise with the Akatsuki

Done at the request of @deaththesyd ((I hope I’m spelling that right)) thank you for such a unique ask! This was fun to write😊

All work and no play makes a bunch of killers very dull, indeed. A vacation is absolutely necessary sometimes, and Pein comes up with the brilliant (?) idea of sending them all on a relaxing cruise.

Konan

When Konan hears that there’s a full spa on the cruise, that’s it, she’s sold. She heads out of her cabin early in the morning and spends an entire day basking in much-needed luxury and relaxations. While she chooses to indulge in any and everything, some other members of the Akatsuki choose to drop in and join her for certain elements. For example, Deidara shows up for the face masks (he’s surprisingly fastidious about his skin and almost spends more time on his face than Konan does hers). Itachi comes to join her when it’s time for massages, becoming so calm and relaxed that he falls asleep mid-sentence (and Konan admonishes the workers to be as gentle and quiet as possible, because, obviously, the kid could use the rest). Hidan surprises her most of all when he pops up in time for the manicure and pedicure portion of the treatment, but he makes it a point to say over and over that “I’m not a wimp or nothing; I just like clean nails.” At the end of the day, after being pampered and preened and made even prettier, she finds Sasori sitting on the deck, and joins him to watch the sunset and see the first stars appear in the night sky.

Deidara

Deidara has a mind that goes a mile a minute, and finds it immensely difficult to stick with doing one thing. Therefore, he’ll try to fill his days on a cruise doing everything that there is to go. An on-board pool? He’s the first one doing a flip off the diving board. A mini casino? He’s “borrowing” money from Kakuzu and playing until he goes bust. The thing that appeals most to him, however, are the complimentary breakfast, lunch, and dinner buffets. He, along with Hidan, will strike fear into the hearts of all the other passengers, as they load plates higher than the ceiling and scarf down more than seems physically possible. Because Deidara spends so much time eating and indulging in various merriments, towards the end of the day he’s more than likely to sit down in a deck chair to “rest a second” — and end up sleeping there until Sasori comes to look for him and make him go lay down properly in his cabin. Then the next day, Deidara will be the first one up, and his antics will repeat themselves.

Kakuzu

Kakuzu is very much against the idea of the Akatsuki going on a cruise, because you know, money; but Pein offers to pay to send everyone out of his own pocket ... and Kakuzu isn’t one to turn down anything free. Once on board, he really doesn’t intend to do anything other than nap in his cabin ... but that’s before he hears about the on-board casino. A hidden (but profitable) talent of Kakuzu’s is the ability to count cards, making him a veritable nightmare to the dealers working at the blackjack table. But he’s smart; he knows that if he wins too many hands the proprietors will become suspicious and likely kick him out. So he wins just enough to make it worth being out of bed. Other than the relaxation and the gambling, the others can convince him to join them when they eat at the ships buffets or small restaurants, although, as he does on land, he’ll always go for the cheapest thing on the menu. Shockingly, a cruise is one of the few places in the world that he can really get along with Hidan; something about being on the sea brings out more of the calm and quiet side of the Jashinist. The two will spend some time sitting in the deck chairs and having avid, whimsical conversations about life, likely enjoying a glass of wine or two as they do so.

Zetsu

Zetsu goes with at the behest of the others, but doesn’t really want to be there. An endless body of water? Over-bearing sunshine? Happy people? No, thanks. He’ll likely stay in his cabin and sleep ... during the day, that is. Nighttime is a different story. He’ll use his powers of infiltration and camouflage to find his way into passengers rooms, and have himself a midnight snack or two (or six, but who’s counting?). When he’s done with the bodies, if there’s anything left he’ll toss them into the ocean. It’s one thing if a passenger goes missing, but another if they’re found dead. He’ll clean the cabins out too, getting rid of the blood and evidence, so as to lessen the alarm raised when others notice the dead’s absence. He also likes to spend a bit of time with Obito and play cards in one or the other’s cabin.

Tobi (Obito)

Unfortunately (or, in another light, hilariously) Obito gets horribly, horribly seasick. The rocking motion of a ship, or even seeing the water move around outside the ship, has the guy running to his cabin’s bathroom (or if he’s outside of his room, the deck) and puking his guts out. He didn’t really want to come in the first place, but the others insisted and besides, Obito likes to spend time outside of typical Akatsuki businesss with them. Deidara, in a surprising show of kindness, will visit Tobi’s room with seasick medicine he buys at the on-board store, and this will help Tobi to at least get vertical without feeling like he’s dying. After he’s feeling better he sticks to low-impact activities so as not to trigger a relapse, and will likely spend more time with Konan at the spa than anywhere else. He’ll also join Kakuzu for a bit at the casino; like the old man, Obito has a knack for gambling and predicting good odds. Poker is his specialty; the mask he wears makes reading his face impossible to his fellow players, and his goofy demeanor pulls others into thinking they can take this guy … and lose their shirts in the process.

Hidan

Ah; the sea. Being out in the open waters, feeling the sun on his face and the most of water, brings out a side of Hidan that nobody’s ever seen before. He’s calm, he’s quiet, he’s downright friendly. Kakuzu comments that maybe he was a seaman in another life … although “pirate” seems a bit more accurate for him. No matter where Hidan is, however, his competitive spirit never dies. There’s several exercise and game rooms on board that offers table tennis, volleyball, golf, basketball, and a variety of other things, which Hidan takes part of. There’s even a small rock-climbing wall that he challenges Deidara and Itachi to, which he (gleefully) beats them at. When not playing games he also loves to eat, and will join Deidara at the ship’s buffets to stuff himself silly. Normally, as a follower of the way of Jashin, Hidan doesn’t drink. However being at sea seems to be cause for bending the rules, and Hidan will enjoy a stiff cocktail or six while relaxing in his cabin.

Itachi

Whereas the rocking motion of the ship makes Obito feel sick to his stomach, it effects the other Uchiha in another way entirely; it relaxes him. Getting someone who’s as stressed as Itachi to relax is no small feat, but a cruise is one of the rare things that can do this. The first few days on the cruise will likely see the young brunette sleeping as much as possible. He’ll put up the Do Not Disturb sign on his door and nap away his worries. Around the third or fourth day, he’ll wake up feeling wonderfully reinvigorated, and actually have the energy to join the others in their activities. He’ll share a meal with Hidan, he’ll wander into the spa that Konan’s practically made her home and indulge in massages and facials. He’ll even take up Kisame’s offer to participate in the ship-offered scuba diving lessons (although Kisame has been teaching Itachi how to dive for years and neither really has the need for professional training, they find it fun to be around the others who are just learning). Deidara even seeks him out join him in the game room to compete against him (although he accuses him of cheating with his sharingan every time he wins). At night, he enjoys sitting on the top deck with Sasori, and the two have deep conversations about life and culture and art. Sasori doesn’t sleep so he can literally sit up with Itachi all evening until the stars disappear from the sky and the sun comes up over the waves.

Pein

Nagato makes the decision not to send his Pein-body on the cruise. Nagato, like Obito, gets very seasick, and this isn’t a sensation he wishes to experience through the Pein-body. He utilizes Pein’s time alone at the hideout, however, by gathering the other Pein’s together to practice sparring and different fighting techniques. They’ll get the house quite messy, and will have to work together to frantically clean before the others return.

Kisame

Kisame is in his element on a cruise. As could be expected, Kisame tends to stick solely to the activities on board that are based around the water. He’ll be one of the first ones in the ship’s pool when it opens, in fact going so far as to strip completely naked until somebody else comes in and ruins his fun. He participates in the deep sea fishing offered by professionals, although Kisame’s tips and tricks for catching fish far outshine those of the instructors. There’s even a chance for him to be heroic; one day a woman slips and falls over the railing and into the waters below. Everybody panics, but before anyone can make a move towards rescuing her, Kisame is diving into the water and pulling her to the surface as easily as one would pull a sack of feathers. He stays with her until she’s stabilized, and the woman thanks him by hugging him and kissing his cheek, which will have him blushing from head to toe. Besides his water activities, he also enjoys spending time with the others, in particular Itachi and Konan. One thing that these three do together (to the delight of Kisame) is play pranks on the others. They manage to get into Deidara’s room and steal all of his shirts, they sneak black hair dye into Hidan’s shampoo. One particular funny feat involved then going into Kakuzu’s room safe (Itachi was able to use his sharingan to see into the old guy’s mind to get the combination) and replace all of his money with IOU slips. It was funny … until Kakuzu burst into Hidan’s room at 3am and threatened to strangle him as “the most likely fucker who did this”. Kisame loves cruises and wishes the Akatsuki could afford to go on one every month.

Sasori

Another soul who really didn’t want to go on a cruise. He ends up going because (and only because) Deidara pestered him relentlessly until he gave in. Eating, games, swimming, gambling … none of these things hold any appeal for the puppet master. One day he’s walking along one of the lower deck and happens upon a group of ship staff taking a mandatory CPR/basic medical training class. Being somewhat of a medical expert himself, he goes in and offers his expertise, as well as some tips that not even the instructors thought of. Sasori also spends some time with Deidara, as the blonde was the one who made him go in the first place. They find an art class and it offers painting, a medium that neither are familiar with. The subject is a bottle of wine. The instructor is somewhat horrified when he finds that Sasori has painted the wine bottle being smashed into someone’s kneecap; and Deidara has painted it exploding and sending glass fragments into innocent bystanders. On one of their nights, Deidara falls asleep while the two are sitting in deck chairs under the stars, and Sasori manages to pick him up and carry him to his room. Sasori also likes spending time with Itachi; he never passes up an opportunity to get into Itachi’s head a little, as he thinks he has one of the most fascinating minds in the Akatsuki. Sasori comes to enjoy his time on the cruise, and will actually find himself a bit melancholy when it’s over and they return to land.

[ourneverendingpossibilities]

Amnesia (2/2)

Anime: Bleach Pairing: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques x reader Rating: M (For language and implied themes) A/N: So here’s the second part!! If I had the patience, it would’ve been one long fic like I had intended.. But my brain was not working and I wanted to post the first half.. I love when my brain does these things... Anyway, I hope you all like! Can also be found on my AO3! Merry Christmas @oi-taigaaaaa​ ! __________________

The desert sands brush against her bare skin.. Her clothing was tattered around her, and she clung to herself as if she could shield some of the pain. The mask on her face was broken in places it shouldn't have been, but she didn't have the energy to heal herself... Better yet, she couldn't, because she was currently under attack. Why couldn't she defend herself better? What kind of life did she live before becoming this...??

_____ was at a loss for words..

It wasn't until she felt another presence, one that was strong, but warm, did she even attempt to lift her head. But her eyes remained closed, scared to open in fear of what she would see... Why was she here?? Stuck in purgatory without a companion...?

"Oi.... You're not dead, are you?"

The voice, distorted but warm, oh so very warm, made ____ open her eyes.. She was greeted by another arrancar... But he was the shape of a panther... A gorgeous, beautiful panther... His muzzle was covered in blood, and she turns to look at the other creature, dead and lifeless.. Her eyes immediately return to the being in front of her, and she opens her mouth, but nothing comes out....

"Do you have a name, or am I just going to abandon you here?"

She doesn't understand why this being is interested in her, or why he feels so familiar... But she swallows the lump in her throat, letting her arm fall beside her. She feels she can let her guard down a little; he hasn't finished her off yet.

"_-____." she murmurs, meeting those fierce blue hues head on. He moves closer to her, and takes a sniff, causing ____ to flush a little.. Well, stiffen is the accurate description. "W....What are you-?"

"Good... You're not weak." he states, nudging her arm before turning around. He sits in front of her, tail swishing in the sand as he keeps an eye out for any hollows who dare attack. "Heal yourself, girl... Then eat the rest of the hollow and prove your worth to me... Otherwise, I'll kill you and devour you myself."

____ didn't understand why this... Panther hollow would want her to stay with him... But she can only nod her head, realizing he can't see and begins to heal herself. She moves to the dead hollow, about to take a bite when she looks at his face, a curious expression hidden behind her ox mask.

"What's your name... Arrancar? If I'm to pledge my alliance to you, I need to know what to call you."

He lets out a snort of sorts, casting her one last glance, before staring straight ahead.

"Grimmjow... Grimmjow Jaegerjaques."

She swallows the lump in her throat, ignoring the longing emotion clinging to her... She thinks she may know this arrancar in another life... But her memories are hazy, and trying to think about it only causes her pain... She finishes off the hollow, cleaning her face of the blood as she bows beside him, resting a hand on her chest.

"I look forward to serving you... Grimmjow-sama."

___________________

She feels herself roll out of bed, rubbing the back of her head as it hits the ground... What the hell?? Is she a child waking up from a bad nightmare?? She finds herself leaning against the mattress, resting her head against the edge as she lets out a sigh... Grimmjow.... The dream, she had called a panther like hollow, "Grimmjow"... That can't be the same Grimmjow that manhandled her the other day...

Could it?

She rubs her face, trying to understand why he was so angry.... Why he would blame Ichigo for her not knowing who he was?? She never saw that man in her life!! Even if she has met him before, and knew him...

Someone as handsome as him could NEVER be forgotten...

Her cheeks flare up, and she lets out an irritated groan... Right... Ever since she has been in Urahara's care, her hollow emotions have started to take shape in the form of human emotions... Things she shouldn't feel when she was an Arrancar, like sadness, and guilt, are now things she's experiencing... She hates it... Just wants to return to her arrancar ways of feeling nothing.

But she's always felt something.

Otherwise, she couldn't heal... And not many arrancars of Aizen's army had that power. But she did... And yet, he never used her powers.. Because he didn't know she had them. He never got the chance to find out. She just can't remember why; and it continues to haunt her. Her time in Hueco Mundo was long, but she finds that there are memories she doesn't remember, things she should know, but doesn't. She's asked Urahara what Grimmjow was talking about after he left. But she wasn't given an answer, and he'd sent her on an errand with Orihime, leaving her confused and empty.

Grimmjow....

Why does that name continue to haunt her, and why does she feel he was the piece she was missing?

__________________________

"Grimmjow-sama?"

He lets out a grunt; as if telling her he was listening. His head is resting in her lap, and they're laying together curled around a fire she made during these chilly nights.

"Why did you let me live ? You could've killed me and continued on your path to becoming a Vasto Lorde."

His ears flicker, and his eyes open slightly, staring down at the white sand. His paw shifts, and his attention remains on the fire, but he knows she's waiting for an answer. Why did he leave her alive?? It would've been simple to just finish her off and continue on without a companion... and yet; she's here with him, keeping him company during these dreary and barren times...

"The path to being a Vasto Lorde is a long one, and I decided you were worth keeping alive..." he states lazily, closing his eyes once more. "Besides, you didn't want to die. And I'm not one for killing those who have fight left in them, but aren't at full strength."

He hears the hitch in her breath, before a light rumble vibrates under his chin. He opens an eye, and looks up to see her stifling a laugh... How dare she laugh?

"What's so funny?!"

She shakes her head, turning her eyes to look at him, gently stroking his cheek, "I didn't think you were a beast who understood what it means to fight on equal grounds.."

He startles her by knocking her on her back, blue hues glinting in the fire as he sneers at her. His paws pin her down, and his tail swishes, licking his lips at their position. He's the one in control.

"You dare to challenge me, princess??" he grumbles, pressing his weight on her. He hears the gasp, but focuses on her face, watching the way her cheeks change colour under that mask.. Tch... "You owe your life to me... And one day, I'll make sure you remember that..."

He blinks when she smiles at him, using what strength she has to wrap her arms around him. "It doesn't matter what you do to me, Grimmjow-sama... I'll always pledge my life to you... I'd even die for you."

His reiatsu grows darker, and he growls in his chest, moving to bite her neck. He hears the gasp, her body clinging to him as he delves his teeth into her skin. His face goes to her ear, and he growls;

"You're mine _____... and I won't let you die for me."

He looks at her face, seeing her eyes widen in understanding. He watches her neck move as she swallows, before she buries her face in his cheek, holding him close.

"I belong to Grimmjow-sama... And I won't leave you behind."

He lets out a snort, as if agreeing, before picking her up by the scruff of her cloak with his teeth, carrying her to the small cave they call "home".

_____________________

He's waiting for that shithead shinigami to return home. In the back of his mind, Grimmjow could've just met him at his school, caused a scene there... But he didn't want to risk bringing _____ into it. And he knows, she'd step in if only to protect that bastard. It still makes his blood boil.

How dare he steal ____ from him? Kurosaki isn't good enough... He's a fucking weak human! He couldn't give ____ what she needs.. What she desires.. He's always filled that role, and he'll refuse to have her be stolen from him. Especially from a piece of shit like him.

"What do you want Grimmjow? I'm not in the mood."

He rolls his eyes, "Tch. I don't give a shit if you're in the mood or not... You're going to fight me." he starts, pulling Pantera from its sheath. "Or I'll go after that Orihime chick, and make you attack me."

The smirk grows when Ichigo presses the crest against his chest. He's now in his Shinigami form, and jumps at him... What an idiot, an open book. And Grimmjow is happy to tear pages from it, one by one.

Let the fun and blood begin.

______________________

_____ feels the fight before Orihime pauses their training. Both their faces express the same concern, and although the words are stuck in her throat, _____ is thankful for Orihime understanding the look in her eyes. She doesn't return to her gigai, opting to stay in her Arrancar form. Her powers have stablized now, and she's able to control them better without needing it, and it would be too much of a hassle to get back in. Instead of waiting for Orihime to get ready, ____ finds her legs running up the ladder of her own accord, and her body runs to where the reiatsus are clashing, sending shivers down her spine.

Why does the second one feel as if it's calling out for her?

Her eyes narrow as the worry creases on her face.

'Grimmjow'.

______________________

"_____-chan, I hope you're adjusting to being Grimmjow's fraccion."

Aizen's voice was smooth, silky and firm. She tries to hide the tremble of his reiatsu, eyes on his as she nods her head in slight unease.

"Y....Yes..." she stutters, bowing her head, "He's been treating me well.."

Silence lingers, before he nods his head, a smile on his face. "That's good... Let me know if he ever tries to hurt you.. I'll deal with him myself."

A shudder runs down her spine, and she bites her lip, before swallowing the lump in her throat. "....Y...Yes, Aizen-sama..."

She then leaves the room, finding herself able to breathe easier once she was away from him. She feels his reiatsu spike, and immediately her feet take off towards him. She never likes making him wait, because since their transformation, Grimmjow has become more... brash, and destructive... A part of her died when she realized he wasn't entirely the same person... But then again, perhaps he's always been thirsty for blood and mayhem... She just never noticed until now.

She's jarred from her thoughts when she runs right into his chest, almost falling on her butt in surprise. His hand rests on her back, holding her up as he swiftly gathers her in his arms, using sonido to carry her back to his quarters. She feels dizzy at the movement, but before she can process anything, or her surroundings, his mouth is on hers, rough and dominating. He pins her arms to the wall, using items she didn't know he acquired, but her mind was too focused on his taste, his scent.. Wanting to just feel his warmth around her..

Oh how she wishes she can touch him.

"Did he touch you?"

The words are dark, rough, and brings ____ from her thoughts, opening her eyes to meet his. Blue hues dark, full of passion, anger and something else she can't place... And she starts to sweat... His reiatsu is starting to suffocate her, and although she wants to reply to him, she's out of breath, and her mind is racing from the struggle of trying to breathe..

"Answer me, Princess..." he growls, moving to bite her neck, "Did. He. Touch. You?"

"N....No!" She whimpers, trying to wriggle out of her restraints. He put pressure on her body, and he makes her look at him, a gasp leaving her lips.

"G...Grimmjow.... I... I belong to you... and you alone... I wouldn't let anyone else touch me."

'Not the way you do.'

She hopes her eyes communicate her thoughts, and he seems to be silent, assessing her current state. His eyes are hiding something, but it's gone the moment she blinks, and she whimpers when he moves to nip at her cheek, a hand rubbing her sides.

"Good. You're such a good girl, ______." he murmurs, eyes narrowing as he smirks against her skin. "Now... Let me reward you... My Princess..."

________________________

_____ reaches the fight, gasping when she sees the sight before her. Ichigo has donned his hollow mask, and Grimmjow is in his released form... The white and blue flash in front of her, and she feels her body shudder, nearly collapsing at the overwhelming energy... She doesn't know what's going on, or why her body is reacting this way. But she feels sick, dizzy from the flashes in her mind.

The rare smiles. The frown when he's concentrating. The snarls when he's angry. The look of pleasure when they both reach their peaks.

Her hand clutches her chest, and she's kneeling on the ground, whimpers escaping her lips. She can't breathe... She's sinking fast, and she can't find the strength to climb back out of the water. The sound of a crash echoes in her brain, and her head snaps up, searching for the explosion. When she spots it, she sees a bloodied Grimmjow laying in the crater. On instinct, her body begins to run, and her eyes are only on him..

Her master... Her lover... Her companion...

"Grimmjow-sama!!"

__________________________

Fuck his life. How the hell did that bastard get so much stronger in the time they last fought? It's not like Orihime is around to cry for him to stop... He hasn't even threatened her in front of him... Well... He did use it as bait to lure him into a fight...

But he understands why when he feels her reiatsu heading right for them.

Shit... _____ figured out he was here... She knew he was fighting with Kurosaki... She was going to come and defend that bastard... AGAIN. The feeling of betrayal began to claw at his gut, and he growled, doing everything in his power to overtake the bastard. But it seems he saw every move coming... It was as if he became predictable in his attacks, and he was left fending off attacks rather than being the attacker.

He coughed, letting out a grunt as he watched the bastard charge up one last Getsuga Tenshou... Heh... So he was that angry he wanted him dead? Well now... He deserves it... After all, he was the one who forced him into a fight... Must have caught him in a bad mood... Grimmjow couldn't find the energy to sit up, but he managed anyway, feeling his body revert back to normal. He was leaning on Pantera, panting and wincing at the pain...

But his body shook the moment he heard her voice....

"Grimmjow-sama!!!"

With wide eyes, he turns his head to see her running at him. Tch. Her face was ugly with those tears and worry. But it was all directed at him. FOR him. And he feels his body shake... What a time for her to remember who he was, right as he was about to be defeated... But he heard Pantera roar, and he felt Kurosaki release the attack before he realized his mistake...

____ jumped at him, knocking him on his back as she tried to shield the blast for him...

She was going to DIE for him... And he couldn't find the strength to move Pantera...

He finds the strength to crush her to his chest, flipping her under his body so he'd be shielding her from it. The heat was starting to close in on them, and if anyone was going to die, it would be HIM for HER.

Suddenly, there's a glow engulfing them, and his eyes widen, watching as Orihime runs at them, protecting them from the attack... He doesn't understand why she did it... But he sees the determination in her eyes, and feels the concern and unease rolling from Kurosaki as he lands on the ground and runs to them.

"I...Inoue!! W... Why did you do that? You could've been killed!"

Her attention remains on the Espada and Arrancar beneath him, her eyes filled with worry for her friend. She brings down the shield and starts to heal Grimmjow's injuries without his consent, attention on the girl in his arms, clinging to him.

"You weren't going to kill me, Kurosaki-kun... Because I could sense that your attack was weaker when you saw ____-chan try to shield Grimmjow." she explains, directing her attention to him, "You weren't going to kill him from the start... You just wanted him to know you were stronger..."

"It was STILL reckless, Inoue!!!" He scolds, moving to rest his hands on her arms, brown hues filled with worry. "Don't you ever try to shield one of my attacks again!! I... I couldn't forgive myself if I hurt you...."

If Grimmjow was in his normal state of mind, he would've thrown up at the grossness in front of him. But his attention was on the Arrancar in his arms, clinging to him as if she was scared to let go. It seems the two humans are busy with each other to notice them, and he feels a drop in his stomach when ____ pulls away briefly to stare into his eyes... He cups her cheek in the palm of his hand, clicking his tongue softly.

"Stop crying, Princess... It makes you look weak."

He watches the way her cheeks puff up, anger swelling in her eyes before she punches his chest. "Y....You're the one to talk!!" She starts, grabbing his cheek in the same manner as him, "Y...You're the one who was broken at me forgetting who you were!"

He growls, eyes narrowing, "Watch how you talk to me, _____... I won't go easy on you... I told you... I'd make you remember that you owe your life to me..." he smirks, dragging his hand down her sides, sneaking it under her uniform. "Don't think I've forgotten that."

She shudders, and his eyes darken at her actions, watching her beneath blue hair. "M...Maybe I should've let Ichigo kill you.." She mumbles, feeling his reiatsu spike at her words.

"Oh... You're going to pay for that _____-chan...." he whispers, biting her neck. She has to stifle the mewl, a hand reaching up to grab his ear, "I'll make sure by the end of it, you remember just WHO you belong to... And who you're loyal to."

She feels her eyes soften, and _____ moves to kiss his cheek, ignoring the looks from the two humans... "Not if I can embarrass you in front of them first." She winks, before jumping out of his arms and takes off with Sonido...

His eyes widen at her words, but a smirk curls on his lips, clicking his tongue... Well... She has some nerve... But the chase is what makes it fun, and ____ has always made things fun and entertaining... He looks at the two humans, stretching his arms.

"Thanks for healing me, woman.." he mumbles, "And for looking after _____ during her stay." He ignores the gasp from her, before glaring at the orangette, "I'll be back for my rematch... And this time, I'll make sure you don't hurt _____... Otherwise I'll hack you to pieces."

He doesn't wait around any longer, vanishing before their eyes, chasing after the one person who's always stayed with him.

His lover, his companion, his mate.

[weasleypogues]

newbie on set pt.2 (r.p)

so i got a lot of requests saying to do a part two so i hope u guys enjoy lol :) also!!!! i’m gonna put little twists on it here and there because it’s going to be like shes going into season 2 and sarah and john b are in the bahamas

read part 1 if you haven’t already :D

part 3 part 4

tag list for the series so far: ivebeenthinkingboutu nas-marie-loves-u k-k0129 

masterlist.

after a lot of preparation with fittings, readings, rehersals, and everything in between, you were finally shooting today. you and the cast had excitedly texted back and forth in the group chat but rudy made sure he also texted you on the side as he was eager to still get to know you.

you, madelyn, and madison sat in the makeup and hair trailer, gushing about the scenes you were shooting today and how excited you guys were to just be in south carolina and have fun like they did last year.

“did you see the tiktok i sent you?” madison asked madelyn, giggling and glancing at you because you were the once to convince madison to send it in the first place. madelyn glared at the two of you snickering, as she rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight back the giggle.

“yes! i did! i see them everywhere. ‘relax b john, i have a gutter, get you’re head out of the brother’ or ‘it’s not like i’ve never seen a gutter before, get your head out of your ass john b’, they literally fill up my page!” madelyn responded, laughing her ass off. you guys were referring to the hundreds of tiktoks that mocked that line in the first season. you threw your headback in laughter, tears coming out of your eyes. your hairdresser lola glared at you playfully and placed your head forward again because you kept interrupting her. you blew her a kiss in the mirror as a joke and she laughed.

“you guys are something else..” she trailed off, a huge smile upon her face. 

“are you nervous for today (y/n/n)?” madison turned to you and asked. you let your cheeks fill up with air before letting the breath out slowly, in deep thought. you hated to say it but you were literally terrified. you didn’t want to be the reason that a scene that should’ve taken maybe 60 minutes at most to shoot could take longer because you weren’t working to your full potential. “i’ll take that hesitation as a yes..”

“i just don’t wanna fuck up. like no one does, but if i did it on my first day it would be all i think about.” you responded, twidling with your thumbs.

“you did amazing at the table read and great at rehearsals, you’re gonna do great today.” madeyln smiled, reassuring you. “especially......because your first scene is with rudy today.” she smirked, sending a wink your way.

you felt your face grow hot and cowered in your seat slightly, but not enough that lola couldn’t continue working on your hair. you and rudy had been texting nonstop ever since you guys left the restaraunt after the first table read. you have to admit, he was very flirty but you always seemed to psych yourself out because you caught on that he was just an outgoing and friendly guy. but madison and madelyn snapped you back to reality that he wouldn’t play footsie’s with just anyone or constantly text them if it wasn’t something that crossed his mind. 

someone with an earpiece, walkie talkie, and clipboard walked onto the trailer saying that he needed you and madison for a scene. as sarah and john b were in the bahamas, you guys weren’t getting any scenes with them for a little while. you walked out of the trailer with string bracelets and other accessories practically covering your wrists, neck, and ankle to make you look more summer-y and pogue like. you walked towards where you guys were shooting a scene in the wreck and placed the apron around your body, talking to madison. 

“lady pogue! baby pogue!” you heard a familiar boy yell and you turned around to see rudy and jonathan. jonathan had on a green tshirt and grey cargo shorts, accessorized with a beaded necklace and a hat on backwards. you pulled him in for a hug first until he was pulled away suddenly. before you knew it, you were in rudy’s arms being given probably the best hug in the world. you giggled and looked up at him as you pulled away.

“you just couldn’t resist me, i get it.” you joked and raised your eyebrows. rudy laughed and let a smirk grow onto his makeup-bruised face.

“how’d you know?” he responded somewhat sarcastically. you rolled your eyes and pushed him away playfully, in doing so you admired his arms as he wore a white tanktop and backwards hat as well. 

“you guys ready to get started?” you all heard jonas yell out and you let out a deep, nervous breath and nodded. 

“you got this, (y/n).” madison reassured you, rubbing your arm lightly before the three of them got into their spots at a table at the wreck. you fixed your hair slightly, hiding your script from plain shot of the camera and tightened in apron that wrapped around your waist.

juliet walked towards the group of three pogues sitting at a picnic table at the wreck. she had just moved to the outer banks with her parents and brother for some business thing that involved her parents and real estate. however, whatever sum of money her family had didn’t stop her from finding a job and getting out to do her own thing. nick carrera was kind enough to give a sixteen year old girl with no restaraunt experience a shot at waitressing at the wreck. he said it wasn’t difficult and that his daughter, kiara, had fun. 

juliet had worked a couple of shifts with kiara and they had fun but juliet didn’t want to over step her boundaries. her next table to serve was kiara and her two friends, jj and pope? juliet couldn’t remember if that was their names or not. kiara had talked about them but said that it had been a couple of months since they’ve seen each other because they lost two friends at sea. juliet decided it was probably still a touchy subject and didn’t want to invade anymore in fear of upsetting kiara. 

however, kiara did mention that she had not seen pope or jj in a long time. juliet wasn’t sure if they had agreed to take some space or they drifted apart because of the lost friends. so when juliet saw kiara sitting at a table with two boys that fit the descriptions of her old friends, it clicked in her head. they looked like they were in a deep conversation and she thought maybe she should give them a second instead of interrupting them for a simple drink order. juliet shook her head to snap out those thoughts and walked up to the trio.

“hey kie, anything i can get for you guys to drink?” she built up the courage to ask, giving a small smile to the trio with her pen and paper in hand.

“just waters good for me, juliet. boys?” kiara started, sending a kind smile back to her. 

“same here.” pope brought up, fiddling with his fingers as it was clear they were in the middle of a deep conversation. juliet lowered her head to write on the paper and felt a wave of regret wash over her because she felt bad for interrupting the rekindling group.

“juliet? like romeo and juliet?” jj asked, looking at juliet with a small smirk on his face. juliet took a second to take in the fact that the blond kid in front of her face was bruised and cut up. he clearly fucked with the wrong people, probably kooks from old stories kiara had told her on break one day. juliet nodded with an awkward smile.

“like shakespeare intended.” juliet responded, fixing her hair slightly as a natural mannerism. 

“got a romeo? or do you want one?” jj replied with a wink. even in character, you felt your cheeks get hot because if you remembered the script correctly, that was not rudy’s line. he improvised. as you all played off that improvised line, kiara kicked jj from under the table which jj didn’t hesistate to flinch and rub his shin. “fiesty...”

kiara looked up at juliet, sending her an uncomfortable smile in a way of saying ‘sorry for him, he’s always this stupid’. “he’ll just take a water.” kiara flat out said because jj just failed to respond to juliet’s initial question.

“on the rocks!” jj joked to ease the awkwardness as juliet walked back towards the wreck to fetch them their drinks.

you heard the director yell cut and let your body somewhat relax from it’s on screen state and turned back around. “cute line, rudy! s’all you got?” you hollered over towards the trio, as you walked towards them. 

“c’mon, you gotta admit, that was funny. i had to make it a little more authentic!” rudy defended himself with his hands up. you rolled your eyes and shoved him slightly on the shoulder for almost messing you up on the first day if it wasn’t for the rest of the cast who played along so well. you let your elbow rest on his shoulder, exchanging a couple of words between madison, johnathan, and rudy in between takes. now you understood what all the hype was about.

---

after a long day at work, you packed up your backpack in your trailer, pulling your charger out of the socket. as you glanced around one last time, making sure you didn’t forget anything you heard a knock at your door. 

“come in!” you hollered out, although you didn’t let your eyes leave the surrounding areas.

“hey.” you recognized the voice as rudy’s and felt your heart flutter lightly and looked up at him. his rosy cheeks and messy blond hair almost made you melt on the spot.

“what’s up?” you asked, throwing your backpack over your shoulder and grabbing your phone. rudy took a couple of slow steps towards you and now you two were basically inches away from each other. 

“i was wondering if you were up for dinner tonight?” rudy asked, rubbing the back of his neck. he was clearly nervous, but for what?

“yeah i’m down! what do the rest of the group have in mind?” you responded, pretty obliviously. rudy let out a big breath because he thought he had gotten the hard part over with. 

“actually, i was thinking you could come around to mine and i could cook something....like y’know. just the....two of us?” rudy responded, his face slowly growing red as he avoided eye contact with you.

a huge smile grew on your face and you saw as rudy slightly relaxed himself as maybe this was a good sign. “like...a date?” you answered. you felt bad that maybe you were egging it on more and making him clearly more stressed but you needed that clarification for yourself.

“uh, that’s what i had in mind?” rudy stated, with his eyebrows raised. you lifted on your tippy toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. as you took a step back, you stared into his blue eyes and smiled.

“a date it is.” you answered. you never in your life thought that you would have the confidence to do that, so it wasn’t a surprise that your heart was racing fast and your hands felt sweaty.

you walked past him and opened the door to the trailer before turning back. “you coming or what?” you asked.

rudy did not even hesitate to follow after you.

[90slevi]

Late-Night Talks {Levi x Reader}

TW: threats of violence, cursing (all canon-typical)

It was the middle of the night. You were supposed to be in bed and resting, ready for another day of intense training to prepare for the upcoming expedition, but you couldn't sleep. Too many thoughts littered your brain, and an unexpected fear flooded your veins. Despite being one of the best soldiers on the Squad (Levi's Squad, too), you were constantly filled with anxieties and worries. Not about yourself, though. Ever since you'd joined, you were prepared to die whenever you left Wall Rose. But... you weren't ready to watch another one of your friends be eaten at the hands of a monster.

Sitting in one of the trees outside the dorm building, you looked up at the sky to see it littered with stars, not a cloud in sight. It was also a full moon, and you hoped that it was a sign that nobody would die on this expedition, which was a stupid thought because at least ten people always died. Ever since you were a kid, you'd wanted to know the mysteries past the walls. There was so much more to life than just sitting inside Wall Sina eating bread and watching people live in boredom, so that's why you'd joined the Cadets.

You'd never been prepared for the mental and emotional trauma that came with it, though.

You were quickly shaken out of your daydream, however, when a very authoritative yet all-too-familiar voice shouted for you at the bottom of the tree.

"Oi, Soldier, get down from there," Captain Levi demanded, a hint of tiredness laced in his strict tone. You sighed and looked down, your eyebrows raised at him without saying a word. You knew Levi hated it when he was ignored, especially by someone in the inferior ranks, but you weren't too bothered.

You were close, after all. Maybe a little bit... too close.

"Hey, are you deaf?" he asked, still unable to notice who it was due to the darkness. "I said-"

"Yeah, I heard you," you responded with a sigh, spinning around on the branch you were sat on so you could properly look at him. Levi gave you a quick glare before aiming his manoeuver gear up at the tree and shooting so he was right next to you. "What's up?"

"'What's up'?" Levi repeated, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "I should be asking you that. It's 2 in the morning, get back to your dorm."

"I can't sleep," you shrugged, gesturing at your black pyjamas you were still wearing. Instead of using gear as Levi had, you'd chosen to simply climb the tree, something you'd done since you were little. "Thought I'd come out here and look at the stars or something."

Sighing, the black-haired Captain shook his head and reluctantly sat down beside you, deciding it was no use in telling you to come down. He also couldn't be bothered to drag you down by force. It was clear the both of you were tired; he was too lazy to raise his voice and you had obvious bags underneath your eyes.

Plus, he didn't really enforce the rules on you.

If it was someone like Eren Jaeger or one of the 'brats' who'd just moved up from the trainees, he would've either forced them down or booted them off the tree, but he liked you. The two of you got along incredibly well and were often seen spending time together alone by other cadets, who assumed at first that the two of you were in a relationship. Levi didn't exactly like this rumour and shut them up instantly with a swift kick in the shins, but began to realise he did feel some sort of way towards you that he didn't with other people. And it was the same for you, too.

Unlike Levi, you'd actually felt romantic attraction to people before, despite it only being once and swearing on your life you'd never do it again, so at least you knew what it felt like. After the two of you discussing a possible relationship, you'd decided to not get together in fear of what could happen if one of you were in danger or, even worse, killed. Emotional connections weren't the best thing to occur in the Survey Corps, because you could confess your love one day and then be brutally squashed the next day by a Titan. And although it was highly unlikely that Levi was dying anytime soon, you weren't as skilled as he was and had almost been killed on multiple occasions already.

This didn't exactly stop the two of you from feeling that way towards each other, however.

"You look tired," Levi said, his voice much softer now. You nodded, a small smile on your face. "You can always visit me, you know. When you can't sleep."

"I could," you chuckled, looked down at the ground as your legs hung dangerously off the side of the branch. "But others would definitely get the wrong impression. Plus, I don't think it's exactly... right for a soldier to visit their captain in the middle of the night."

"Who cares?" Levi muttered, rolling his eyes and making your smile widen at his attitude. "I can always make you tea to help you sleep."

"I think the only way I'd be able to sleep was if you knocked me out," you replied, your memories going back to the time Levi had actually made you unconscious just so you could get a wink of sleep. It was something the two of you had laughed about afterward, but at the time... it wasn't really that fun. Plagued with nightmares and waking up crying, Levi couldn't figure out anything other than booting you in the head to get you to have even an hour of sleep. Levi scoffed at your comment and cracked his knuckles.

"I can do that if you wish," he said, and you grimaced, holding your hands up.

"I'd rather not," you answered, remembering the issues you'd had. "You nearly gave me a concussion, and I had that bump on the back of my head for nearly a week!"

"I wouldn't be surprised if you'd got brain damage," he mumbled off-handedly, and you playfully hit him in the shoulder. "Oi!"

"I sometimes wonder if YOU'RE the one with brain damage," you teased, and he hit you back. You pouted at him, and he gave you the classic Levi-glare you were all too used to now.

"If that's what I've got, then putting up with you is what gave it me," Levi threw back, and you gasped dramatically, falling backward. His eyes widened in surprise, one of his arms automatically reaching out to catch you, but you were fine. All you were doing was hanging upside down from the branch, using only your legs as support as you swung dangerously. It was something you'd done for years, so it was fine, but clearly, Levi wasn't used to it. "Doing that will definitely give you brain damage. Get back up here!"

"You're just using that as an excuse because you're scared, aren't you?" you giggled, pulling yourself back up to safety and adjusting your pyjama top. Even if your shirt had risen early, you didn't mind; Levi had seen your body before, so it wasn't like it was something sacred you had to hide. "Awh, is Levi scared that I'm gonna fall?"

"You just looked like a total idiot, that's all," he shrugged, rolling his eyes again as he looked away. You adored teasing him; it completely tore away that tough persona he liked to put on in front of the Cadets and other soldiers and showed a much more vulnerable, real version of the man you cared about so much. "And I don't exactly fancy having one of my best soldiers having a broken bone or two only two weeks before the expedition."

That word. Expedition.

You went silent, your heart racing as you were reminded so suddenly of the impending doom you were so close to experiencing again. Gulping, you began to sub-consciously nibble at your thumb, and Levi noticed your anxieties pretty much instantly.

Ah, so that's why you're up here.

"Maybe that was your intention," Levi said calmly, raising an eyebrow. "To break a bone supposedly by accident so you don't have to go on the expedition. Coward."

"As if I'd ever do that!" you exclaimed, a little louder than you'd intended. The Captain cocked his head with his eyebrows raised, almost judging you until you were able to tell him the truth. He may be cruel with his way of getting information out of people, but he was determined to do it. That way, he could actually help you instead of giving meaningless hope and compliments that were bound to do nothing in the long run. "I'm just... a little scared, that's all."

"It's funny that you think you're the only one," Levi scoffed, rather surprised that you were so nervous you were hiding away. Usually, you came to him with your problems, trusting him enough to share even the stupidest of things, but this was... odd. Either you were absolutely terrified or there was another thing you weren't telling him. "I bet the Cadets are absolutely shitting themselves. C'mon, there's something else, isn't there?"

"And what will you do if I don't tell you?"

"Beat the shit out of you."

You snorted before looking down at your feet. As unlikely as it was that Levi would even lay a menacing hand on you, you wouldn't be surprised if he actually did go on his word just to get the information out. He was caring... in a very strange way. But you didn't mind; the two of you were just as good as each other at hand-to-hand combat, so it'd be a challenge for him to properly harm you as he did with the Cadets and lower ranks.

"You'll laugh at me."

"Have I ever laughed at you, brat?"

"Yes."

Levi was silent, trying to recall the last time he'd ever even laughed, never mind at you. Although... there was one time where he'd made fun of you for something pretty dumb, and then there was another time when he chuckled at you when you dropped a piece of bread and flipped it off, and then-

Okay, you'd made him laugh more times than he'd like to admit. But that wasn't the point.

"That's a lie," he ironically lied, his face still as blunt as ever despite joking around. It was something you surprisingly liked about Levi; his dry sense of humour was just as dry as he acted, and it suited him well. "Now, brat, tell me."

"It's just the same old stuff, really," you shrugged, sighing as you looked up at the sky. You had no idea what time it was, only that it was between 2am and 4am just by glancing at the moon and knew you ought to get at least a bit of sleep. You yawned, and Levi noticed. "It's stupid because I know for a fact it'll happen every time I leave these walls, but I don't want people I know to die. Especially those I care about."

"Tch, everyone feels like that," Levi said, thankful it wasn't anything more serious. Just the average 'I don't want people to die' talk. "Even Eyebrows, which is shocking, I know."

"I know, but..." you trailed off, not wanting to talk about your worries about Levi. He had the most dangerous part of the whole expedition in the next two weeks and although you knew he could take it, there was still an incline of worry that spread across your body like a parasite. Sighing, you yawned again, pressing your palms into your eyes to try and rub the sleep out of your eyes. Levi raised his eyebrows and put his hand firmly on your thigh.

"Well, if you're not gonna tell me, then you're going to bed," he insisted, standing up and holding his hand out for you to take. Reluctantly, you rolled your eyes and took it, being pulled to your feet and pulled into his side. "And if that means knocking you the fuck out, then so be it."

"And what if I don't wake up in time?" you asked, watching as Levi shot into the ground with his gear and pulled you with him. He sighed, grabbing harshly onto your wrist so you didn't run away.

"Then you'll have to train even harder when you do," he said bluntly, and you groaned in disapproval, trying to ignore the slight pain in your wrist he was causing. "Because I'm not having your stupidity and exhaustion cost you your life. Got it?"

"Got it," you muttered, pouting as he dragged you up the stairs in the dorm building. It appeared that he was taking you to his room to make sure you actually slept instead of sneaking back out of your window. Although, you didn't mind spending the night with Levi. Even if the two of you didn't sleep, you still ended up having late-night talks and even at some points drinking. Luckily, he had a very high alcohol tolerance, being able to drink over a bottle without showing he had done in the morning. You, on the other hand, weren't so tolerant... "God, people would think you've been hired to look after me or something."

"It feels like that 90% of the time," he replied, and you grinned, entering his room.

Once again, it was just as spotless as last time you'd been in there. It was constantly organised, with his bed covered in crisp white sheets and a pile of papers displayed neatly on his mahogany desk. Books stood in alphabetical order on his bookcase, completely dust-free, and his curtains were closed symmetrically over his window. Two lit candles sat on his desk, presumably lit just before he went to fetch you, and his green cloak lay folded-up over the side of his sofa. It was a comfortable room, and one you really enjoyed visiting.

"So, am I knocking you out, or are you gonna sleep, Y/n?" Levi threatened, flopping down onto his sofa as he unbuckled his gear. For someone who only got two hours of sleep per night if he was lucky, it was pretty hypocritical that he was trying to get you to go to bed. It was also nice to hear him call you by your first name for once, instead of a stupid nickname like 'brat' or 'dumbass'. "Choose quickly, because I'd quite like to finish the book I was reading."

"I think I'd rather sleep without getting punched in the face," you answered with a grin, flopping down onto his bed that you'd slept in multiple times before. For some reason, it was always comfier than the bed you had in your dorm room, and despite not being a double bed, it managed to fit the two of you in easily if you both wanted to share.

Then again, you both weren't the tallest of people.

"Yeah, that's the better option," Levi sighed, sinking calmly into his sofa as he pulled off his boots and tucked them beside the door. The room was silent for a few minutes as you closed your eyes on top of his bed, not even underneath the duvet. It was still unlikely you'd sleep much, as there was a lot on your mind, but at least you were resting. Then, Levi's voice entered the room. "You're not going to sleep, are you?"

"Not really," you muttered, your eyes cracking open. You stared at the ceiling, hearing the man's footsteps walk over and eventually stop. Turning your head, you noticed he was squatting beside the bed, his face pretty much right next to yours. His expression was much softer now as he watched your eyes move, and he reached up to brush your hair from out of your face.

"I'm not an idiot, I know there's more on your mind than just the stupid expedition, Y/n," he said quietly, a stern tone to his voice despite being calmer than usual. You hesitated before looking away, rubbing your face as you tried to gather your thoughts. Unlike usual, you had no idea what had you so on-edge, and you couldn't explain it to Levi if you tried. "And if you don't want to tell me, then that's fine. But you really need to sleep, because I don't want my next dead recruit to be you."

That was it. That was what was on your mind.

You'd never really gotten over your feelings for Levi; you'd just pushed them to the back of your mind until you hopefully forgot about it, but it was impossible. Every time you were in his room, every time you even spoke to him, and every time he looked out for you just deepened your feelings, and it stressed you out. You didn't want to love someone, especially while the two of you were in the Survey Corps. And the fact he made sure you weren't at the risk of dying, more than he looked out for the other Cadets and Soldiers, showed he felt the same. A small smile appeared on your face.

The world was cruel. Too cruel.

"Well then, goodnight, Levi," you said softly, reaching your hand up as you brushed his hair out of his eyes as he'd done to you just a minute ago. You then lifted your legs up and tucked them under the duvet before closing your eyes. You knew Levi was confused, but it was better for him to be like that than to be crushed with you admitting your feelings all over again. "I'll maybe tell you soon, I dunno. But for now, I'm gonna get some sleep. Feel free to join me!"

You heard Levi 'tch' under his breath with a small sound of amusement before he walked back to the sofa. He also mumbled something inaudible to you, but you didn't really care.

Although you couldn't do anything about it, you were glad you'd finally come to terms with your worries.

If only Levi could too.

[prose-for-hire]

Damsel in distress

Pairing: Buffy Summers x fem!reader

Request: hey, if you haven't already gotten too many requests for Halloween could you write Buffy x (preferably female) reader with the prompt “I dare you to go in there. Alone.” my idea is that some students from their school/college are kinda bullying the reader into going into some building rumored to be haunted and Buffy stands up to them but the reader goes in anyway to prove shes not scared and then the place turns out to actually be haunted and Buffy needs to save her.

Requested by: Anon

Warning: A very mild hint of homophobia. 

You didn’t know why you hung around with them. They were never nice to you. But at least it was better than being alone. The only saving grace, was that she was there. Buffy, her name was. You loved the way her name sounded on your tongue. Calling her over or just saying it. She introduced herself to you one night when she was hanging out with you and your group.

She had moved from LA a few years back and you had seen her around school, but you had never had a class together. Which was a shame - you would have loved to have a class with her. A reason to talk with her more. However, you would have probably not been able to get much work done. You would have just been dreamily looking her way.

You hung around with a few people you knew, usually just around the streets on the nights the Bronze was closed. Trying to find some fun in the wasteland of a town. You didn’t particularly like the group of people you hung out with, now mainly coming for a chance to speak to Buffy.

Buffy had started joining you a few months ago, you weren’t sure who she knew but she usually spoke to a few people briefly before coming back over to speak to you for the rest of the night. In reality, she had started to grow attached to you. And you spent a lot of time out after dark. She wanted to make sure you were okay.

You got on really well and she was incredibly sweet. And funny. Oh, and did I mention completely gorgeous? She would usually twist strands of her hair with her finger as she spoke to you, laughing and looking down at the ground before daring to look back at your face.

Tonight was Halloween night, so nothing was going on. Sunnydale wasn’t big on the 31st, they did appear to observe Halloween the rest of the year though in the form of vampires and demons running riot. You knew who Buffy was, she had revealed it to you one evening. She didn’t warn you much about staying out after dark – she wanted the excuse to meet with you.

You hadn’t been getting on with the rest of the group, they had noticed you and Buffy had been getting on so well. They were probably jealous or didn’t like to see you both happy. So they had started to single you both out. This evening had been no different. 

She had slid her hand into yours and squeezed. You had told her a secret, confided in her. It had been one you had never told anyone before. Only her. The gesture was comforting but you couldn’t help wishing it meant more. You both looked down at your hands, they fit together so perfectly. As if they were made for each other. But neither of you had said anything about it.

“Look at them!” You jumped, moving your eyes away and they jeered at your visible shock at them shouting. They started to crowd around you, noticing the way you had been holding Buffy’s hand.

“Ew, what is she your girlfriend?” one teased and you looked at the ground. You hadn’t expressed your attraction of women yet, but you weren’t necessarily ashamed.

“So what if she was?” You muttered, your eyes not lifting from the ground now as Buffy had a glint in her eye at the suggestion. They continued to tease you, until you eventually got up and started walking down the lane away from them. Buffy quickly got up to follow you, telling the rest to leave you both alone. 

But they wouldn’t leave. Buffy swung around as the group approached you, her knuckles curling into a fist. You put a hand on her shoulder, that they all jeered at, to tell her not to. 

“Aw, God, y/n! You’re such a coward!”

“I’m not - you’re just not worth a fight!” You exclaimed as Buffy nodded her head, moving her arms to cross them over her chest. You didn’t realise what house you were stood outside of until they mentioned it.

“Okay, then if you’re not a coward - I dare you to go in there. Alone!” the ringleader of the group said, pointing towards the abandoned house that had been abandoned since you had lived in the town. That place even gave Buffy the creeps and she was a slayer. They all gasped and made creepy noises in anticipation. Everyone knew about the house and countless rumours had been associated with the large house over the years. You looked up at the house and although you had nothing to prove, decided you would do it. Anything to get away for them for at least ten minutes. 

“Fine” You shrug, not usually one to backdown so easily. But Buffy was concerned.

“You don’t have to, they’re just bored. And cruel. And… remind me again why we bother to hang with them?” She asked, dropping her voice.

“Well I wouldn’t have come back if it wasn’t for you” You whispered softly. Your words echoing her own thoughts, “I’m going in” You then shrugged, despite Buffy’s best efforts to put you off. She had heard things from demon snitches and she hadn’t got around to looking into it yet.

Before she could say anything else, you had made it to the front door with everyone watching with their mouths open. Nobody went near that house anymore. But you had flung the front gate open and stalked up to the door in the blink of an eye. No hesitation.

You turned the handle and it let you straight in. Weird, you would think they’d lock an abandoned building in the middle of town. The door slowly opened and you stepped inside. Alerting anything residing in the house of your presence as your footsteps echoed loud through the house. 

When you were over the threshold, something happened. Something you, really, should have expected. The door slammed shut behind you. You jumped, gasping and turning to confirm that you were now shut in. You tried the handle and it had locked fast. 

Unknown to you, Buffy had run straight after you, realising the door was now locked and she tried to find an alternative way in. While this was happening, the rest of the group got scared. They turned to leave and ran off to their respective houses. Leaving you and Buffy to deal with the house alone.

You intake another deep breath of the musty air, steeling yourself. Telling yourself you would be okay. You decide to explore a few rooms and then head out, maybe the door would have unlocked itself by then.

So that’s what you did. You tentatively stepped through the hall, the wallpaper yellow and peeling as nobody had lived in there for years. There was some graffiti started on the walls and it gave you a strange feeling when you noted that none of it appeared to be completed. 

The only furnishing in the corridor an abandoned coat stand, evidently not precious enough for the previous residents to take with them. You reach out to touch it, wondering what the varnished wood may feel like.

A strange feeling, goose bumps begin to form slowly up your arm. You can physically feel them starting from your wrist up to your shoulder. It makes you rethink this. Moving your hand away from the stand and moving on. Quickly.

You walked into what you guessed had been the living room. The room was damp and dull. You suspected it had been dull before the house had been abandoned. Whoever had decorated liked beige. You were staring at the patches on the walls, where paintings or photographs had been fixed there. The wall was a lighter shade from where it hadn’t been exposed for so long to the elements.

It was a cemetery for the life that had once been inside the house. A family home. Full of hopes and struggles and laughter. But now it only held-

Suddenly, a crack rang out through the empty house. The floorboard was splintering under you and finally gave way. There was nothing you could do, except fall through the floor and down into the basement. The one room you had never intended in going into. 

Buffy had managed to sneak in through a window and had been trying desperately to find you before anything bad happened. She had heard your grand entrance into the basement but couldn’t find you. She kept getting lost. The house was big, almost like a maze and she was desperately trying to follow the sound of your voice.

“Is this the part where I play the damsel in distress?” you sigh, asking an unknown entity that the slayer couldn’t see. You were trying not to show your fear in any way. You spoke loudly and clearly, the wavering in your voice hidden to anyone except her. Her heart ached, she just wanted to get to you. Stand by your side in the face of this threat.

Buffy heard your voice but the vibrations were bouncing through all of the empty rooms. The echoing making it even harder to locate you. Buffy was worried for you. Almost losing her cool as she bit herself back from shouting and ruining any element of surprise she could take.

What Buffy couldn’t see was that as soon as you entered, the basement had started to grow incredibly cold. Freezing. You hugged yourself, trying to preserve the warmth as cold air started to whip around you as if you were stood in the eye of a mini tornado. 

A voice sounded. A low, incomprehensible murmur to begin. But it slowly grew louder. And it sounded angry.

You do not belong here! You do not belong here! You do not belong here!

Then you saw it. The translucent figure with the most striking yellow eyes. There was no soul behind those eyes. It was a man. His skin was cracked and his hair was swept back. His outfit told you he had only been a ghost for a decade, the way he was dressed still somewhat familiar although nobody would be seen dead in it anymore. Well, maybe they would.  

You started to panic, he was pointing now. Eyes dead-locked on you. No matter where you shifted slightly, his eyes followed. You kept talking, non-stop at first. Scoffing and acting uncaring. Trying to distract the ghost as you slowly backed out. You were looking for an exit in the periphery of you vision, but the room appeared to be sealed. 

You managed to pull your eyes away, feeling along the wall and checking for some kind of door. This was a mistake. As you had looked away, the demon became corporeal and was stalking towards you. It didn’t appear to want to give you a hug either. When you had turned back from your fruitless effort of finding a way out, it slapped you across your face. As if to shut you up from your nervous rambling. You had angered it, clearly.

YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE! YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE! YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE!

The shouted got louder. Piercing your skull so acutely it felt almost as if you were being lobotomised. You tried to speak over the shouting, but it progressively got worse. In the blink of an eye, you found yourself curling into yourself on the dusty floor of the basement. Not of your own will. The figure looming over you, menace in those eyes. Unable to hear yourself think, let alone talk.

You scrunched your eyes up tight, some unknown force keeping you on the floor. You never saw it when she jumped through the hole that you made in the floorboards above. Landing on her feet easily and tapping the demon-ghost on its shoulder. It was somehow corporeal, so she managed to land some blows leaving it staggering backwards. 

The demon, for someone only part-time corporeal, was a surprisingly good fighter. This meant Buffy had been looking around for some kind of weapon. You missed it when she found an ornate hunting knife in the corner of the basement, that happened to be its one weakness. She stabbed the figure straight through the heart. You even missed her brilliantly executed pun, the wind had still been rushing in your ears. 

You had been expecting pain. Horror. Some seriously disgusting demon goo (you had seen Ghostbusters). But instead you felt a soft hand on your shoulder. Her hand. She had come straight to kneel by your side, helping you up. You both stood and the tornado-like wind finally subsided. Leaving a quiet you didn’t know you had been waiting for wash over you. It made you feel calmer.

You gazed into her eyes, smiling softly, the relief painted on your face as you mouthed thank you. She nodded, her hand was still lingering on your shoulder. You enjoyed the sensation, hoping she wouldn’t move away any time soon. The close proximity was enough for you to wanted stay in a haunted basement just to get to stay by her side. 

“Is this the part where I kiss the damsel in distress?” She teased, but the sentiment was there. Her eyes wild from the slaying, the adrenaline still pumping around her body as she smiled so sweetly. You couldn’t have guessed that she had just beat that ghost back into the hell-dimension it came from. 

Her hand slid to rest on the side of your face, the warmth of the gesture making your close your eyes. A slow blink before returning to her eyes, the sparkle still there. You sighed into her touch, moving into her hand further. You had never felt so good. Never felt so safe.

You nodded softly, willing this to happen. Willing her to feel the way you felt for her. You had been craving this. Dreaming about it. Her touch. It was everything you had hoped it would be. And more.

Before you knew it, she had leaned in and your lips had met hers. Your eyes fluttered closed once more as your hands slid around her waist, one hand resting on the small of her back. She pulled you in closer, both hands now sliding along the side of your face. Her lips were so soft you found yourself instantly addicted. She sighed into your kiss, this had been something she wanted since the first time she met you. You never wanted this moment to end. You were both vibrating with happiness as you moved back slightly, contacting the wall behind you. 

The basement was still creepy and there were thick cobwebs along the wall, tangling in your hair - but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It was her. All you wanted was her.

 All you cared about is her lips against yours.

[imcryingbuckets]

My Whole Heart "Hates" You

I did it. Ha, yes, I wrote a Bill Hader x OFC fanfiction. Although I write a lot in my spare time, I've never written a fic before so pls be nice :(

It's sorta enemies to lovers, I know y'all love that shit, so I hope everyone likes it. Or at least one person. It's going to be multiple chapters, but I've only written the first one so far!

TW: Swearing, a lot of it (I'm British, sue me), no sexual content in this chapter, but if there is any in future chapters I will be sure to notify you (warnings are already tagged on ao3 just in case I forget to add them later on)

Summary: Violet works at Studio 8H, for Saturday Night Live! But one Monday morning she turns up to work to find out that Bill Hader is hosting. They have a past of getting under each other's skin and constantly getting into arguments and spats all over the office, but will that change when he returns to host this time? Will they put aside their differences? Do they really hate each other or are they just bad at flirting? I'm sure you know the answer to all these questions, but how 'bout you read this anyways! I suck at summaries

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31072760/chapters/76766612

Chapter One: Oh, boy.

I walk into Studio 8H clutching a hot cup of coffee in my hand, in attempt to bring myself some warmth during the surprisingly cold breeze of March. Arriving at the building only a few minutes late (better than usual), I quickly set my things down at my desk and walk over to Lorne’s office with my co-workers to find out the host line-up for the next month. We all file in and find seats, some of us sitting cross-legged on the floor, and we collectively gaze upon the corkboard as Lorne fills us all in. My stomach twists into knots as I read the first blue postcard pinned up, blinking twice to make sure I’m not seeing things. I rub my eyes because maybe I saw it wrong, maybe he isn’t hosting, maybe I just have something in my eye. But when I look back up I know I’m wrong because everybody’s eyes are on me, staring closely with hesitance to watch how I’ll react. Right above the yellow card that read ‘Arcade Fire’ was a blue one, reading

BILL HADER

My mind begins to play out a thousand different scenarios and outcomes on what could happen this week, now that Hader would be here. I start getting a light headache (quite the ordinary when it came to working here) and I notice that everyone is still staring at me, some in remorse, and some in fear of how I’m going to react. I decide pretty quickly that I should say something to settle everyone’s nerves.

“Guys, seriously, chill the fuck out.” Perhaps a little harsher than I intended so I backpedal a bit. “I know what you’re all thinking, but stop, okay? It’s not like I’m gonna go batshit crazy when I see him and punch him in the face or something. I intend to keep my job, thank you very much.”

The faces all around the room seem to relax at this and return their attention back to Lorne. Thankfully, no one heard me add ‘As much as he is an absolute cockwomble’. Well, Kate might have as she started giggling on the floor next to me.#

Kate knows of my small hatred towards the man everyone on Earth seems to praise (Hatred is a strong word, annoyance is probably better suited for my feelings towards him but I genuinely just enjoy how the word rolls off the tongue). 4 years ago when Bill hosted SNL back in 2014, Kate was the one that put up with all my complaints and remarks about him, and she was often the one I went to when I needed to vent about anything really, middle-aged-comedian-themed or not. I feel a little guilty seeing as she will probably have to reprise her role as the one who deals with my Hader ‘hatred’ when she actually quite likes the man and has friendly chats and jokes with him whenever he’s around. Normally when I tell people this, they think that the fact that they’re both friends would annoy me. But I actually couldn’t give the smallest of fucks (pardon my French). I think it’s great that everyone gets on with him, good for them! But we never seemed to be able to do that.

See despite our efforts to be professional, we kept getting in small bickering matches across the office the last time he hosted. It was never full on screaming, just very heavily charged snide comments and evil glares to one another.

Back home in the UK, my friends and I would often joke around playfully and poke fun at each other, but it was all light-hearted and we all knew that. Even some of my friends here at work do the same. But when Bill was here, everyone that was unfortunately present to witness our spats and quarrels all knew that it didn’t come from a place of love or admiration as it did with anyone else. No, it came from this annoyance in our guts that we got from each other. It certainly made the entire office largely tense for the whole week leading up to the Saturday, and thankfully he skipped the after party so the terror ended after the last sketch of the night.

I feel bad knowing that we’ll probably put the entire building through the same torment as we did 4 years ago, but I don’t feel an ounce of guilt for Bill. No sir. Every nasty remark I threw at him I meant with 100% intention, and I feel no urge to take any of them back when I see him this afternoon when he walks into the office. Not because I’m some cold-hearted bitch, but because he said some things that were equally as bad as mine. So suck on that, William.

Quicker than expected, the meeting ends. I get up eagerly off the floor, with the intention to get to my office as quickly as possible with hopes to not run into Bill. However, before I get the chance to leave, I hear Lorne call after me to ask me to stay behind.

“I need to talk to you about this week’s host.”

I see Kate give me a small smile that said ‘good luck’ as she left through the door with the others and a wave of her hand. I turn back to the man behind the desk, not knowing what to expect, apart from the fact that it’s probably about Bill. Obviously.

“I’m assuming you’ve seen who the host is for Saturday?” he says.

I give him a small nod with a tight small and a mutter that resembled something close to a ‘yes’.

“Well I know that the last time he hosted, you two didn’t get along very well and had some…”

I watched him for a few seconds as he tried to find the right word.

“…differences.” He decides. “But I don’t want that same thing to happen again, it’s been 4 years now so I’m hoping that you’ve both matured at least a little.”

“Yes well he is like 40 now.” I respond, a little uncomfortable as I feel like a three-year-old getting scolded by their teacher for flicking crayons at the other kid’s head.

“Yes, well… I hope that you both can learn to get along, or at least push your differences aside for one week?”

I nod, “Yes, yes, ‘course.” Wanting the conversation to end before Bill arrives.

“Good to hear, Violet. Although, if I hear any screaming between the two of you, I won’t hesitate to step in and organise something to put an end to it. Understood?”

For a moment I thought he was suggesting firing me, but I caught the slight smirk on his face that told me something different. He was planning something mischievous, but I couldn’t place what. Nor did I care enough to look for it.

I sigh in relief and nod my head for what felt like the hundredth time that day, starting to feel a bit like a bobble-head doll. “Yes, Lorne, I understand. No bickering, got it.”

He smiled with a look that suggested he got the answer he wanted, and waved his hand to say I could go. I gave him a goodbye and made my out of his office and started to speed-walk to my own, crossing my fingers that Hader hadn’t arrived yet.

I thank the mighty beings in the sky that I made it to my desk without seeing him, and shut the door with a click. My eyes fall upon the coffee that I left earlier that morning in the rush to get to the meeting and I frown as I realise that it’s probably gone cold and all icky. I grasp the paper cup and I’m surprised to be met with warmth, I guess the meeting wasn’t as long as I thought it had been. Content with this happy discovery, I sit down in front of my computer and open a script document from the other night, sipping at my lukewarm coffee. I begin to rapidly type away and fall into the rhythm of writing, before I am frustratingly interrupted with a knock at my door.

I pull away from the screen and yell “Come in!” to whoever is on the other side of the door, standing up from my desk to throw my now-empty paper coffee cup in the bin (or trash as these Americans I work with call it). The door opens to reveal Aidy peeking her head hesitantly through to look at me with almost sorry eyes.

“Pitch meeting in Lorne’s office. Got to discuss sketch ideas with…the host.” She smiles kindly at me knowing that I don’t want to go and see him.

“With Bill you mean?” I say knowingly, to which she just nods her head. “Okay, well, best to just get it over with. And besides, maybe he’s less of a dick now?”

She laughs a little in attempt to be supportive. I think.

As we’re walking down the corridor, I think back to when I first met him back in 2014. Obviously I knew who he was, ‘Bill Hader: SNL Alumni, Comedian, Actor, Father, blah blah blah’. At the time, he was also ‘Husband’ but I was told that the fact was no longer true. I make a mental note to not be so harsh on him, not wanting to be that person who bashes him so soon after a divorce.

I remember I was actually quite fond of him at first, I watched most of his stuff and admittedly, he was my ‘celebrity crush’ for the longest time. And when I met him in person, he actually was exactly like everyone described him as: funny, sweet, charming, an all ‘round nice guy. Not to mention insanely attractive. He was cute, even I can admit that. I don’t really remember why we didn’t get along all those years ago. I think it was a mixture of a clash of personalities and the fact that we’re both quite stubborn. Terribly stubborn. From what I can remember, we never exactly agreed on sketches or punchlines or anything really. But like Lorne said, it’s been 4 years. Maybe we’ll get along better.

My train of thought gets lost when we reach the door to Lorne’s office. I see Aidy push it open and walk in as I follow her, hearing that everyone seems to be in the middle of a conversation. Right before I get through the door, I hear him. His loud, obnoxious laugh filling the room. The laugh that so easily gets under my skin and makes my stomach feel all weird and uneasy.

I head into the room and find a seat, and that’s when I look up to see him. Bill. Standing in front of me in a blue shirt and black jeans and those white trainers he seems to wear to every fucking interview. He stands there staring at me with this smirk on his face that make my cheeks go red. He doesn’t say anything, he just stands there by Lorne’s desk and right before he looks away to continue his conversation with Kenan, he winks at me. I look down as not to cause trouble like Lorne said, and partly to hide my cheeks getting hotter and pinker by the second.

I tug at the loose thread of my sweater, looking at the floor to avoid his gaze. I don’t know why I’m getting so flustered, it is Bill after all. The man who so thoroughly annoys and teases me relentlessly. My mind begins to over-analyse everything and before it begins to run any further, I get called on to pitch a sketch idea.

Right before I open my mouth, I see Bill cross his arms in anticipation and looking deeply into my eyes with that stupid smile of his, probably eager to find something to tease me over later. But then I catch him lick his lips suddenly and a chill runs up my arms.

I look back down at my notepad and think, Oh boy, this week will be interesting.

[the-apocryphal-one]

Next of Kin

Summary: A special kind of pain squeezes her heart. The soft question that emerges from her lips is only natural. “Do you have any family?”Astarion x Isaniel

Also available at AO3 and ff.net!

-

A/N: Merry Christmas to all your lovely readers!

-

She should have done this before now. She knows she should have.

But there just hadn’t been time, at first. In the earliest days after her infection, she’d been teetering on a tightwire of panic and desperation, hastily cobbling together plans to get this thing out. Even when they’d stopped to eat or make camp, the thought of writing a letter to her son had never entered her mind—much to her shame.

Then, as days passed and nothing seemed to happen, she’d grown complacent. Maybe their parasites were defective. Maybe the ceremorphosis had failed. Maybe they could walk away from this with nothing more than some trauma and psionic abilities.

Then the sickness came and slapped her in the face with the reminder that nothing about these parasites is normal, nothing can be taken for granted, and nothing is all her son will know of her fate if she’s not careful.

But how do you do it? How do you say goodbye to your only child across hundreds of miles with no body language or facial expressions?

For the past few nights, Isaniel has been trying and failing to figure that out. Each time, she has pulled out parchment, stared at it for an indeterminate amount of time, laboriously pushed out a few words, stared some more, then folded it back up and returned it to her pack.

Tonight, she vows as she sits near a large, flat rock that will substitute as a desk, she’s not getting up until this letter is done. She pulls it out of her jerkin, smooths it out, places it on the rock, and uses a few pebbles to hold the corners down.

Selakiir, it says.

If you’re reading this, I’m very likely dead or worse. We can never foresee our fates, but I have a reasonable certainty as to what my particular ‘or worse’ is. The details are included in an additional, enclosed letter. That had already been written, perversely coming easier than this one. You may ignore it if you wish. I would not hold it against you if you did.

That was as far as she’d gotten. Now, she dips the quill back in the inkpot, sucks in a breath, and pens, I hope that the person who delivers this will be able to give you a first-hand account of my fate, so they can

Soothe you? Selakiir is bafflingly, wonderfully outgoing…but he is also private in his grief. When his father died, he withdrew from adventuring, his friends, even her. He’s not the type to accept banal well-wishes, especially from strangers.

answer any questions you have.

Her quill stalls. She stares at the drying ink, trying to muster up something else to say.

When she writes letters, they always end up much like her: detached and logical. But this is supposed to be a goodbye letter. The last thing her son might have of her. It…it has to be right. She can’t leave him feeling like she saw this as some sort of duty. If there’s one thing she’s always wanted to make sure Selakiir knew, and was always afraid he didn’t, it was that she loved him.

Remember: my love for you is like the moon. There are nights when it doesn’t know how to show all its self, but it is always there.

No, that should be in the closing paragraph. It’d be more final, more poetic. A lovely note to leave things on. But she can’t make herself scratch it out. There’s this foolish, superstitious fear that Selakiir will find out and be hurt. Isaniel grimaces, struggling to wrestle small talk, emotion, something onto the paper so it’s more than this dry thing.

It’s almost funny that I ended up adventuring like you

We’ll meet again in Eilistraee’s

I’m sorry I won’t be there for your wedding. The present I was making is in

Don’t you dare try to avenge me. Stay far away from

Isaniel presses her head against the heel of one hand and bites down an uncharacteristic scream. The paper’s empty spaces and crossed-out lines mock her.

“If you stare at that any more intensely, it’ll burst into flames.”

“Iblith!” she curses, startling so fiercely she upends the inkpot. She’s still thinking in Undercommon, so her next few words come out in it before she catches herself and switches back to Overcommon. “Dos olist mzild taga—stop that.”

Astarion is bent double with laughter, guffawing so hard some of the others are glancing their way. There are actually tears in his eyes. “And miss out on the chance to see you jump like a wet cat? I could never.”

Gods, he can be so juvenile sometimes. Something dangerously close to affection laces that thought, banishing the bitter frustration of failure.

Ever since that day he recoiled from her hand, Astarion has haunted her thoughts more than she would like. She has sought him out more frequently, asking questions, trying to understand him, trying to sort out what she should feel. He is dark and dangerous and cruel—and yet there is something in him, raw, genuine pain that mirrors what she once knew, that she cannot turn away from.

So, Isaniel is not surprised that Astarion’s bouts of childishness have become something she can think on with almost-fondness. Empathy, revulsion, confusion, curiosity already spin together in a whirlpool; what’s one more emotion on the pile?

That doesn’t stop her from shooting him a dour look as she rights the inkpot, though. “I will remind you that I have a rapier and that someday, I’ll be so startled I’ll stab first and ask questions later.”

“Ha! Duly noted.” Astarion gingerly—because of course he’s still worrying about getting stains on his clothes—sits next to her. Unabashedly, he peers at her pathetic letter. “What are you writing?”

She lets him peek. There’s no way he knows Undercommon…and even if he does, he won’t break her cipher. “A letter to my son. In case I die or transform.”

“Your son? That is a very important letter. Who will you entrust with its delivery?”

“Whoever among us is still alive, I suppose.”

“My, don’t you have a low opinion of our abilities.”

It’s not quite that; more like she’s just not picky. But he’s clearly preparing to launch into some spiel, so she chooses to simply wait rather than argue the point.

He doesn’t make her wait long, gesturing dramatically with his hands as he speaks. “Not that you’re wrong. Without you keeping his thirst for revenge and delusions of grandeur in check, Wyll will run off and get himself killed. Lae’zel and Shadowheart will kill each other before the sun goes down. Gale—” He chuckles. “Well. Need I go on?”

Irritation nips at her. Eilistraee knows her companions’ colorful range of personalities have given Isaniel more than one headache, but she still feels protective of them. “Yes, actually—or am I supposed to believe you wouldn’t be leaping into situations fangs first?”

“Ah, but if there’s one thing you can trust me to do, it’s survive those situations. I can see that letter to your son, darling.”

She snorts at his transparency. “You just want to read it.”

He just shamelessly grins, unapologetic about being found out.

Isaniel toys with and discards the idea of chastising him. The matter is too small to make a fuss over, and his cat-like tread and nimble fingers mean he can very much lift the letter off her if he wants. Although…hm. Maybe she can twist this back around on him. She shrugs with feigned disinterest. “Well, it’s not like you could, anyway.”

Astarion inspects his nails. “Oh, I’m sure I can get a scroll of Comprehend Languages somewhere.”

“It’s not just in Undercommon. It’s encoded too.”

He’s visibly taken aback by that. It’s childish of her, but she can’t help thinking, That’s a point for me. Gods, it’s too fun to match wits with him. “You write to your son in code?”

“It was a game we played when he was little.” It had simultaneously been a way to teach him and soothe her paranoia. “We’ve kept it up since.”

In a calculated move, Astarion twists and leans in close. His voice drops, becomes husky. “You do know there’s nothing more tempting than something you can’t have, yes?” His eyes deliberately trace a path up her neck and settle on her mouth.

He’s trying to knock her off balance. Isaniel would rather walk barefoot on hot coals than let him know he has—though not, she suspects, for the reasons he intended. Let him stare at her mouth or neck, he’s a flirt and a vampire spawn. No, the feel of his breath tickling her skin, the way his hand is almost but not quite brushing hers, is more alarming. It’s too intimate. Distracting.

She hastily delivers the coup de grace before he can spot the rapid flutter of her pulse. “What better way to guarantee your delivery? Stubbornness or curiosity will make you hold onto it until you crack it. But you won’t, so you’ll have to bring it to Selakiir to find out what it says.”

A heartbeat. Two. Then Astarion laughs, throaty and deep, sits back, and shakes his head. “Well played, my dear.”

With fresh distance between them, Isaniel exhales in relief. She hastily tries to cover it up by pretending to shift in her seat, but there’s a certain twinkle in Astarion’s eyes that tells her she failed. She clears her throat, praying that her face doesn’t betray her fluster. “I’ll give it to you when I’m done.”

She expects that to be the end of it, for Astarion to fire a parting quip and wander off to tease someone else. But her surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, he props his chin in his hand and studies her.

That look in his eyes…is that actual curiosity?

Like paper thrown into fire, her own is fanned. She hasn’t bothered to ask how old he is, but she can make an educated guess. The Underdark’s abusive culture forces drow to mentally mature well before their twenties; surface elves like Astarion can afford to wait until their first century or so. Of course, magistrate isn’t the type of position you typically get straight out of adolescence, so there could be anywhere from a rough fifty years to another two hundred on top of that. For some reason, she doesn’t peg him as any more than three hundred, pre-turn. Post-turn adds another two centuries.

For humans, several hundred years encompasses several generations. But for an elf… His parents and siblings could still be alive. So could his possible children. Unless he, like her, had a half-human child. They would have died in the time he spent enslaved.

Selakiir’s warm brown eyes and smiling face flash across her mind. A special kind of pain squeezes her heart. The soft question that emerges from her lips is only natural. “Do you have any family?”

A shadow briefly flickers across his face; then, like a rat fleeing for its life, it is gone. He smiles brightly and waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, let’s not exhume the past. There’s nothing interesting about it.”

Isaniel furrows her brow, but before she can say anything, Astarion rises, brushes his trousers off, and struts away. As is all-too-common of late, her gaze lingers on him until he disappears inside his tent. She exhales slowly. If he departed with such alacrity, it’s probably for the best she didn’t get to push him. Eilistraee knows how well that went over last time, and she’d just been clumsily trying to comfort him.

She glances down at the letter. Inspiration strikes. Spontaneously, she pens in another sentence. If accompanying this letter is a pale, white-haired elf named Astarion, point him to the Dancing Haven.

It’s unusually risky of her. If Cazador really will stop at nothing to get Astarion back, she could be bringing a vampire lord down on her congregation. And Astarion just might be callous enough to repay them by selling them out or abandoning them. He does not deserve such risks, the old Isaniel insists.

But then, she wouldn’t be here now if an Eilistraeen hadn’t taken a risk for her over a century ago, when she hadn’t deserved it.

She adds, I don’t know if he’ll actually go there, but like me, he’s fled some sort of dark past. I hope that, in absence of my aid, he can at least find refuge.

Bantering with Astarion seems to have unlocked some wellspring of words from deep within her; the mention of her past gives her the subject. Speaking of which, you may have all my belongings, including the forge and the new house. The password to disarm the magical traps is the same as our old one—I hope you remember it? Your father was always fondly exasperated by my insistence on having them, but you loved to show them off to your friends. My memories of you two are the best in my life…

-

The next day, she hands Astarion several pages and a “thanks” that holds more meaning than he knows.

-

Drow isn’t officially a language in 5e, but it was in older editions. So even though Isaniel was technically speaking in Undercommon for a bit, I went ahead and borrowed words from their dictionary. Rough translation:

Iblith: shit

Dos olist mzild taga: You stealth (intended to be akin to sneak or skulk) more than— (“a drider” is what she would have finished with)

Also Overcommon is just Isaniel’s name for Common.

[datheetjoella]

Fantober 2020, Day 17: Haunted

Author: DatHeetJoella Fandom: Free! Pairing: MakoHaru Rating: T Part: 17/31 (read the full collection here) Word count: 1,761 Tags: Canonverse, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, School Festival, Haunted House, Mentions of Fake Blood Read at: AO3, FFn, or right here!

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Ever since elementary school, the cultural festival had been something Makoto looked forward to all year. In the weeks leading up to it, the atmosphere surrounding the school was even more pleasant and amicable than usual as everyone put in effort to make their class' event stand out. Preparing their event was a lot of fun, but the real fun came when their hard work came to fruition and the festival began. Seeing what all his classmates came up with, showcasing what his class made, enjoying all kinds of food at the various stalls and cafés, watching recitals and plays, it was a blast from start to finish. It was a time of unity between classmates and at the end, he was left feeling satisfied and fulfilled.

Makoto hadn't expected the enjoyment of it would dwindle when he got to university. On the contrary: everything was on a much grander scale and there were a lot fewer restrictions than in high school. Because of his job, Makoto wasn't in a club and therefore hadn't participated in the organisation, but he'd been looking forward to going to the festival with Haruka and experiencing what his friends had been working on for so long.

But more than twelve years of amusing cultural festivals were at risk of being destroyed in a single minute.

"Come on, Tachibana," Takagi said. "It's not that scary, I promise."

The axe headband sticking out between his copper-coloured locks and the fake blood trailing down his forehead did not support his claim. The instant Makoto spotted his friend, he had let out an audible shriek, drawing the attention of everyone in the hallway and sending his own blood rushing to his cheeks.

"You don't have to, Makoto," Haruka said from beside him and although he appreciated his support, it only strengthened Makoto's doubt.

Takagi had been a good friend of his since day one of university. They sat next to each other in Psychology and hit it off right away, agreeing to swap notes and help each other wherever they could. Quickly thereafter, Takagi had joined the Movie Research Club and, in collaboration with the Creative Writing Club, they had created a haunted house for the festival.

According to the advertisement posters, it was supposed to be like stepping inside a horror movie, a storyline the visitor was the protagonist of. That description set off numerous alarm bells in Makoto's head. He avoided haunted houses like the plague and vehemently refused to watch horror movies and this brought the worst of two worlds together.

The decision of whether or not to partake in this particular event seemed crystal clear. After all, he had strategically evaded the haunted houses in past festivals and had planned to continue this streak. But there was one roadblock: Makoto was a giant pushover.

"We all worked so hard on this and I would love for you to see what we made." Takagi slapped his hands together and bowed his head, nearly smacking Haruka with his axe-handle. "It's like a compilation of horror movie clichés, so it's more funny than anything. But if you do think it's too scary, I'll treat you to whatever you want."

There it was. It was not so much the promise that persuaded him, but the fear of disappointing his friend.

"W-Well, if you insist it's not that scary…" Makoto trailed off with an awkward chuckle.

"Thanks man, I appreciate it," Takagi said with a pat on Makoto's shoulder. "I hope you enjoy it. You too, Haru!"

With that, he stormed off to a group of young women to coax them into entering the haunted house as well.

The exchange left a frown on Haruka's face. "How am I on a first-name basis with your friend but you aren't?"

The dry comment dissipated some of the tension gripping Makoto's stomach. "Sorry, I think it's because I talk about you so much."

"Hm," Haruka hummed, and when he was sure Takagi was out of earshot, he said, "Makoto, you don't have to go in if you're not comfortable. I can go in by myself and tell you about it afterwards, in case he asks you what you think of it later."

Despite feeling like he was seconds removed from willingly throwing himself off a cliff, Makoto smiled. "Thanks, Haru, but I'll go with you. He said it wasn't that scary, so I should be fine."

Except he wasn't fine. The instant he stood before the room and heard the eerie music, Makoto knew he made a huge mistake.

When they entered the house, they got a handful of cards with dialogue options that they would need for certain checkpoints, then the interactive movie began. There was no way back.

Following the story that was being portrayed, Haruka and he moved into a vacant house that was far cheaper than the surrounding lots in the neighbourhood - a house Makoto would never buy in reality for obvious reasons. Right away, strange things began to happen in the house: lights flickered, keys clinked, lamps fell over and the phone rang, but when Haruka picked up, the line was dead. That was already enough to have Makoto clinging to Haruka's arm.

"It's alright, Makoto," Haruka said, rubbing his skin with his thumb. "Just close your eyes and try to think of something else. I'll guide us through."

Haruka's advice was a small comfort, but it was futile. Makoto's heart was actively trying to burst through his ribcage and his fight-flight-or-freeze instinct had kicked in, therefore he couldn't tear his eyes away from any of the things that were happening around him. Logically, he knew everything was fabricated by his peers, but it felt so real. This was exactly why he hated horror. How could anyone enjoy being scared?

When Makoto had unsuccessfully convinced Haruka it was fine, they continued. They had to investigate the reason behind these weird occurrences and found out that a hundred years ago, a young girl was murdered inside their house. It had been haunted ever since by various vengeful spirits and the only way to break the curse that had befallen the house was to figure out who the killer had been.

What the conclusion to the story was, Makoto didn't even care. A light, feminine voice ruptured the silence, ominously whispering about bringing forth suffering to those who had wronged her; suffering that exceeded the torture she endured. Makoto clamped onto Haruka's shoulders as he scanned the room to see where it was coming from. A short girl in torn, ivory robes emerged from the darkness, hunched over with her long dark hair obscuring her stark white face. She glided closer and when she stood before them, she looked up and revealed her pitch-black eyes.

When she popped up into his field of vision, Makoto screamed so loudly it alerted all the orcas within a thousand-mile radius. He nearly jumped on Haruka's neck in an attempt to hide his large frame behind Haruka's smaller one.

Fortunately, the girl noticed how genuinely terrified he was. She recoiled and forwent her script in favour of asking if he was alright, voice a bit heavier than the childlike tone she put on. Before Makoto could come with excuses, Haruka spoke up.

"He's not alright. Is there a way for us to leave?"

The girl nodded. "Code yellow!" she yelled, her voice vibrating throughout the area, then she turned back to them. "You can walk through now. No one will bother you."

"Thanks," Haruka said, and he tugged Makoto along by the hand. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Shame filled Makoto's senses, but when they passed through the rest of the haunted house and he saw the bloodied decor and props, relief washed over him. If he had to stay for the rest, he would either leave crying or in a fear-induced coma, so this was better for everyone involved.

What he did take away from this was that he would no longer trust Takagi's judgement. More funny than anything, he said. The only funny thing that happened inside that haunted house was Makoto's pathetic reaction.

When they were finally outside in the daylight again, Haruka dragged him over to a bench. Once he was seated safely, Makoto's soul returned to his body and his back slumped like all the life force had been sucked out of him.

"Are you okay?"

He looked up at Haruka with blazing cheeks. "I'm sorry, Haru. Because of me, you didn't get to experience the haunted house like it was intended."

Haruka merely shrugged. "As if I care about that. I just want you to be comfortable. But you do need to grow a spine."

"I know," Makoto said, head hanging low, "My childish fears always ruin everything."

"That's not it," Haruka said with a squeeze to Makoto's knee. "It's not weird or embarrassing to be scared of these things, a lot of people are. But next time, you need to come out for it and reject these offers right away. Stop being so afraid of letting people down and straight-up tell them no if you don't want to do something."

It was hard, but Haruka was right. He was an adult now and he should act like one. That included setting boundaries and adhering to them. "You're right. I'll tell Takagi-kun I couldn't handle it and that I won't go in next time. From now on, no more haunted houses or anything else ghost or murder-related for me."

"Good," Haruka said, bidding him a gentle smile that calmed Makoto's overworked heart. "Takagi owes us, but we'll find him later. First, is there anything you still wanted to see or do?"

The terror within his gut mellowed out and he smiled back at Haruka. "Well, I saw a sign for a sweets café earlier. Maybe we can check that out?"

"Sure. My treat," Haruka said and Makoto opened his mouth to protest, but he sent him a look that made it clear there was no room for argument.

Hand in hand they strolled over the campus towards the building that hosted the café. Haruka asked him what kind of pastries he was hoping they'd have and Makoto's mouth began to water at the thought of cakes and brownies.

If there was anyone who could chase off all the bad images and demons that resided in Makoto's mind, it was Haruka. It had been like that since they were kids and it would stay that way even as they grew older, because some things never changed.