#(they're on their knees barking please help me) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

estellan0vella · 5 months ago

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

Levi Ackerman

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eren Jaeger

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jean Kirstein

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Connie Springer

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Armin Arlert

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mikasa Ackerman

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Annie Leonhart

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grin up at her. "I try."

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

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

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

Sasha Braus

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Historia Reiss

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you the only survivors?"

"How do you feel right now?"

"Can you describe what happened?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Megumi chuckles weakly. "Not exactly my demographic."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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elizabethemerald · 2 years ago

Text

Flying Grason and Circus Gothica DPxDC

AO3

Prompt by @hypewinter ;

Richard Grayson crouched next to one of Gotham’s signature gargoyles, dressed in his Nightwing uniform. He stared down at what had, until just the last week, been an empty lot. Now the lot was filled with the lights and color of a traveling circus. Circus Gothica had come to visit Gotham and Dick’s family wanted to give him a pick-me-up. They had attended the circus, and while Dick had been filled with nostalgia at the displays, he couldn't help a feeling of dread. The tightrope walker… she didn’t seem… The sound of a pair of heavy boots landing on the roof behind him shook him out of his thoughts.

“What are we doing here, Dickard?” Jason, wearing his full Redhood get up, including his helmet, asked from behind him. Dick turned to face his frequently estranged brother for a moment before returning his attention to the circus below them, now long closed for the night.

“We are going to investigate this circus for anything suspicious.” Dick said, keeping his focus on the circus. He heard the rattling noise that he knew came from Jason sighing into his voice modulator.

“I meant, what am I doing here? If you needed to investigate this place why didn’t you call the Brat or the Replacement. Either of the girls would have worked as well.”

“I needed you here.” Dick said. Jason walked up next to him on the other side of the gargoyle. “I knew if I said I have a bad feeling about the circus without proof everyone else, except for maybe Cass would have dismissed me. ‘Oh it’s just the trauma speaking.’ But I know what I saw. The tightrope walker, she wasn’t willing. I think she was being forced to perform, her motions were too mechanical, as if she wasn’t all there.”

“And you needed me over Cass because if they are abusing their performers you’re going to beat them to within an inch of their lives and Cass would have stopped you.” Jason said. “Well if you want to save that girl, I’m here for-”

Jason whirled mid-sentence, drawing both guns from his sides and aiming them at something behind them. Dick turned with him, pulling his escrima as he turned but he couldn’t see whatever it was that Jason had reacted to. Jason stayed focused on a single point in space at the far end of the roof.

“Show yourself!” He barked.

After a few seconds, during which Jason didn’t waver in his focus, someone faded into view. The kid looked like he was eighteen, maybe nineteen, just a year younger than Jason. He had wavy black hair, blue eyes and was wearing a NASA shirt. Total adoption bait, Dick thought to himself. The guy was holding his hands up in surrender and had a desperate look in his eye.

“You two are heroes, right?” He asked, his hands still raised.

Jason and Dick glanced at each other.

“Yeah, we’re heroes. I’m Nightwing, this is Redhood. Why were you spying on us?”

“I heard you talking about the tightrope walker, you’re right she is unwilling. Please, I need you to help me, the ringleader, Freakshow, is using mind control on her.” The boy fell to his knees as he begged. “Please, Ancients, please help me. They’re killing her. Please, they're killing her.”

There was an undeniable desperation in his voice. Dick hesitated for a moment, there was a chance, however slim, that this person was merely a fantastic actor, especially now that the topic of mind-control had been brought up. He was trying to formulate some way to confirm what this person had said other than his own gut feeling when Jason stepped forward, holstering his guns as he did.

“He’s telling the truth.” Jason said.

Well Dick had asked him to come because they were team gut instinct, so might as well trust Jason on this one. He returned his escrima to his back. The boy practically collapsed in relief onto the rooftop, falling to his hands and knees for a moment before he started to rise. Jason helped pull him to his feet.

“Alright, talk. What do you know?” Jason said.

“Freakshow is the alias used by the Ring-leader. He uses a staff to control… people. The staff should have been destroyed.” He practically growled when he said that. Actually, Dick was certain he really did growl, he arched an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt. “If the staff is taken from him then he loses control over the… people.”

Dick could hear that the boy was hiding something. Considering the inhuman growl and the slight flash of his eyes, along with the invisibility, he was going to guess that by people, he meant metas. The last thing Gotham needed was mind control focused meta trafficking ring in the city.

“You said they were killing her? How? Why?”

He looked away from them, his eyes flicking side to side as he tried to order his thoughts. He was either coming up with a lie or trying to decide how much information to share with them.

“Ellie… she’s… sick. I have medicine for her. If I can get it to her in time I can save her, but if I get close while Freakshow still has the staff he’ll take control of me. I have some training and some resistance, but it might not be enough. The staff he’s using is ancient, he’s controlled me before but I was able to fight it off. I’m not certain I would be able to do so again, and it’s too much of a risk to try.”

It seemed the boy had decided on a half truth. The girl, Ellie, was certainly unwell, and her life was in more danger with every second that ticked passed, but what she was sick with and what the medicine for her were were unclear. Jason seemed to pick up on that as well.

“We’ll get her out of there. And all the rest of them. But when we’re done we’re going to have a long talk.” Jason growled.

The boy looked up at them, desperation once again shining naked on his face.

“If you save her I will tell you anything I am able to. I promise. Please just save her and bring her to me.”

“We will. We’re heroes. It’s what we do.” Dick said, trying to project all the confidence he could to assure the boy. Speaking of which… “By the way, what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you ‘kid’ in my head.”

“I’m Danny. And I’m not a kid.” Danny had grimaced when Dick had mentioned being a hero, perhaps he had a bad history with heroes? Now he kind of wished he had brought Cass along with him on this venture, she would have been much better at reading this kid. And he was definitely a kid, a teenaged father to an even younger, kidnapped daughter.

“Ok, Danny. Is there anything else you can tell us about this Freakshow?”

Danny pulled a backpack from…somewhere, then rustled around on the inside for a few seconds. He slowly stuck his arm further and further inside until his shoulder was ready to disappear before he pulled back. Certainly the bag wasn’t large enough by itself for him to do that. Dick shot a glance at Jason and he could practically feel the matching raised eyebrow even through Jason’s helmet. Danny finally leaned back and tossed two bracelets to the two heroes.

“I’ve had these built for years just in case, and I’ve been carrying them with me since Ellie was taken. These will keep you safe from Freakshow’s mind control.”

The bracelets weren’t exactly high fashion, but they didn’t look bad. If Dick was going to place a guess, he would say that Danny had modified and improved upon another’s design. That would be something they would have to ask once this was over. Jason grunted in discomfort when he snapped his on.

“If these work so well, how don’t wear one to better resist Freakshow?” Jason had a hint of strain in his voice that Dick couldn’t quite figure out.

Danny reached over as if to grab Dick’s wrist except a spark of toxic green electricity arced off the bracelet to shock Danny’s hand. He gave the bracelet a grim look. Then looked up at them apologetically.

“If only it were that simple. I haven’t been able to find any technological protection from Freakshow’s mind-control that doesn’t also harm me.” Then he turned to Jason, a look of concern on his face. “Speaking of which, it doesn’t hurt you too badly does it?”

Dick was confused by that statement. He hadn’t noticed any pain or discomfort coming from the bracelet he now wore on his wrist. Jason however, waggled his hand back and forth in a so-so gesture.

“It’s not the worst pain I’ve ever experienced.” He said shortly.

“No, I imagine it wouldn’t be.” Danny said as if sharing an inside joke with Jason and considering his snort he apparently got it. Dick hated not being on a joke, but he figured this one he was probably happy not to have personal experience with. Danny’s face settled into a more determined look. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything else to help you, please, just get Ellie out and safe as quickly as possible. Please, I can’t lose her too.”

They nodded and turned together and jumped from the roof. Dick wanted to think more about Danny and his various strangeness, but he needed to focus on the task at hand. They had a little girl to save.

In the end, stopping Freakshow wasn’t easy, but it also wasn’t nearly as difficult as some of their usual rogues. On the one hand, the performers that Freakshow controlled had powers, something Danny completely failed to mention. They could fly, turn invisible, phase into the ground, even fire off some kind of green energy bolts that reminded Dick far too much of Starfire’s starbolts. On the other hand, none of these powers seemed to be very effective against the two heroes.

The starbolts didn’t do anything more than tickle Dick, and while they seemed to hurt Jason more, the two of them were well used to avoiding incoming fire from their enemies. They were usually dodging bullets, which moved faster, hurt more and were more lethal than the starbolts, so the performers were mostly useless at range.

Up close whatever shield Danny had given them kept the performers from touching them, each of them falling back with arcs of electricity jumping between their fingers. It helped that under Freakshow’s control the performers just kept trying to jump or fly into them with a full bodied tackle. Any goon in the goonion knew better than to try to just tackle one of the bat clan. Dick guessed it had something to do with the powers the performers demonstrated, but he set it aside as something to ask Danny about once they were out of there.

Just when the two Bats were within sight of Freakshow the lights of the big top came on, including a spotlight focused on the high wire. Freakshow stepped back and gestured with the staff in his hands towards where the lone acrobat, the little girl, Danny’s Ellie, stood balanced on the wire.

“Now, now, little bats! If you take even one step closer a little ghost child will fall to her second death. I’d hate for her to splatter all over the ground of the Big Top!” Freakshow said, with a grin as demented as one of the Joker’s.

Ellie moved slowly across the tightrope. Dick could immediately pick up on that same mechanical, emotionless movement that had first drawn his attention. He could see that she was being controlled now that he had the confirmation. He could also see just how tired she was, she sagged against the control of her body, any part of her that wasn’t actively being controlled by Freakshow drooped as if she wanted to pass out from exhaustion. Dick just hoped that whatever medicine Danny had for his daughter worked.

“I’ve got another idea. Nightwing?” Jason growled the words, his modulator making him sound even more inhuman. Dick glanced at his brother and gave him the subtlest of nods. They moved immediately, perfectly in sync. Jason pulled his guns and fired off a few rounds, rubber bullets and all. Dick fired his grapple and rose as the control staff was shot out of Freakshow’s hand.

Ellie came back to herself and wobbled for a second before she slipped off the wire, gravity immediately taking hold of her. For a second, Dick flashed back to another family falling from the peak of the big top. He remembered the feeling of horror that filled him as his parents fell to their death. He couldn’t allow another family to go through that. Not this time. Ellie falls and Dick was there to meet her.

The poor girl shivered and shook in his arms as he carefully lowered the two of them to the ground. Large green tears fell from her eyes and her breath rattled in and out of her chest. She grabbed onto his uniform with desperate fingers and seemed to pass out immediately in his arms. Dick dearly wanted to beat Freakshow into submission for what he had done to her, but she very clearly needed her medicine more. Jason settled for breaking Freakshow’s arm before knocking him out and cuffing him. Surprisingly the rest of Freakshow’s victims had vanished into thin air once the staff left his hands.

Dick carried Ellie back to the rooftop where they had left Danny. The whole time she kept her eyes closed and shook in his arms. Jason carried the staff Freakshow had used, though he held it like it was something foul and offended him personally. Danny had been watching them come and as soon as they were on the roof as well had his arms out for his daughter. Dick handed her off willingly, and Danny almost immediately collapsed to his knees in relief.

“Daddy?” Elllie croaked the word, barely able to open her eyes.

“I’m here, Ellie. I’m here. I’ve got the ecto-dejecto.”

“I tried to fight him.” Her voice was soft and hoarse and hurt Dick just to hear.

“You did amazing, sweety. You were absolutely amazing.”

Danny pulled a syringe out from what looked like his own arm. A syringe filled a green gel that glowed softly. Jason stared at the needle as Danny readied it for Ellie. She tried to shove his hand away, but he moved around her.

“I know you hate it, I know. It’s awful. But you have to take it. Please Ellie, I’ve got you, you’re safe.”

Dick flinched back in horror as Ellie’s hand melted into a similar green goo. The glowing goo fell from her body to the rooftop but she didn’t seem to react, only mewling softly at Danny as he pushed the needle into her chest, close to where her heart would be. Danny pushed down on the plunger and Ellie threw her head back and screamed. Dick had to cover his ears while even Jason with his helmet stumbled back before the force of her scream.

Their horror only increased when her entire body fell apart, glowing chunks splashing onto the roof leaving a pale green pearl in Danny’s hands. The puddles of green flowed up into the pearl until there wasn’t a trace of Ellie left other than the pearl. Danny rocked back and forth as he held the pearl, and whispered quietly to it.

“Please, Ellie. Please. Come back. I was fast enough, please Ellie, just this once, please let me have been fast enough. Please, Ancients, don’t let me lose anyone else. Please, Ellie. Please.”

Danny’s voice was broken with grief and desperation as he begged the little sphere. Dick stepped forward to comfort the grieving father, his own regret heavy in his heart, but Jason’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. The two of them could only watch as Danny begged and begged, still rocking. Only the slow tightening of Jason’s hand on Dick’s shoulder showed his grief and fear rising as well. The three men stared at the little orb in Danny’s hand, two of them hardly daring to breathe as any last remnant of hope faded.

Then, just when Dick was certain he had been too late, a flash of light came from the little sphere. He blinked the light from his eyes and when he could see again he saw Danny clutching a much more lively Ellie to his chest, sobbing in naked relief.

“Oh Daddy! I knew you would come and that stupid jerk would pay.” Ellie cheered, hugging him back just as strong.

“That’s right baby, I’m always going to come for you. I’ll always protect you.” He stood, lifting his daughter easily and turned to show her the two bats. “And these two heroes were the ones who stopped Freakshow and brought you back to me.”

Ellie smiled at them and they couldn’t help but notice that her smile was just a little too wide, and showed just a few too many teeth. Then she seemed to recognize them and they saw actual literal stars in her eyes.

“Oh my gosh! You’re Redhood! You’re Aunt Jazz’s favorite hero!” Jason preened for a moment before Ellie continued. “She says there’s something deeply wrong with your entire family and she wants to study you like a bug. She says all of you need ‘like decades of therapy.’”

Jason and Dick didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended by the kid’s words. And they had both rescued children often enough to know that they were often brilliant mimics and considering the intonation she had used, had probably heard that phrase way too often.

“Now Ellie, be nice. They did rescue after all. Give them a proper thank…” Danny’s voice petered out as he saw the staff that Jason still held in his hands. Ellie happily thanked the two heroes as he glared at the staff, analyzing and examining it, his face twisting with more and more rage.

The staff itself seemed to have been broken before and then sloppily repaired with glowing green and silver technology. It was at this modified portion of the staff that Danny focused his ire. Ellie seemed to notice her father’s fury as her babbling words to the heroes ceased and she turned in his arms to lightly pat her hands on his face. He blinked and looked at her before letting his face relax.

“Daddy, are you ok?”

“Yeah, Daddy’s ok sweetie. This is just something bigger I’m going to have to deal with.”

“Ok.” She hesitated for a moment. “Just promise to be safe, I won’t be able to protect you until I’m bigger.”

“I promise, munchkin.”

Jason quietly cleared his throat. They both hated to disrupt the tender moment, but if this was a larger threat they needed the facts as soon as possible.

“I know, I know. I promised you details.” Danny said as he adjusted how he was carrying Ellie. “This isn’t exactly a topic for the rooftops. Do you have someplace private we can talk? Preferably somewhere I can put the kiddo down for bed after the hard week she’s had?”

Dick and Jason glanced at each other. There were a variety of safe houses and interrogation rooms the Family had available in the area, or the Batcave, but none were exactly the best for putting a potential ally at ease where they could also have a child sleep over. Hell, Dick’s apartment was barely safe for him to sleep, the pile of dishes in his sink practically counted as a biohazard. Well… there was one place… but that meant revealing…

“B’s out of town for the week for that JL thing isn’t he?” Jason asked, clearly having read Dick’s mind. “He’s not here to disapprove.”

“Seems like the perfect place for a conversation.” Dick agreed and turned back to see Danny’s slightly worried glance between the two of them. “How about it Danny? Would you like to ride with the kiddo on one of our motorcycles?”

“Oh, don’t be silly!” Ellie said with a smile. “Aunt Jazz is the one who likes motorcycles. Daddy and I will fly!”

Danny did in fact fly, invisibly and intangibly, with Ellie still in his arms. He followed along in the air over the two bikes as they weaved dangerously in and out of traffic. The two were obviously brothers in so many ways, but their playful daring of each other to push a little faster, to get a little closer to the cars made it even more obvious. Danny couldn’t help the small smile that crept up his face, but speaking of siblings he had to make a call of his own. Jazz answered on the first ring.

“Danny? Did you find her?” Jazz asked, she had been driving herself crazy for the past week trying to find where Ellie had been taken to.

“Yeah, I’ve got her safe and sound-”

“Hi Aunt Jazz!” Ellie interrupted to yell into the earpiece Danny was using. He could practically feel Jazz’s wince at the volume, but they were both used to Ellie’s exuberance.

“Hi Ellie! I’m so glad to hear you’re safe!” Jazz shouted back, making Danny wince this time, but Ellie nodded even though she wasn’t wearing the earpiece and settled back against Danny’s chest. “Talk to me Danny. What happened?”

“Freakshow was controlling her. And a bunch of other ghosts, but I was able to scoop up the rest while the heroes had their backs turned. I’ll be dropping them off in the zone as soon as I can.”

“Heroes? What heroes?”

“I had a little help from Gotham’s beloved Knights. Or at least two of them. They were the ones to take out Freakshow since I couldn’t risk getting closer to him while he held his staff.”

“I thought you broke that staff the last time you faced him.”

“I did. It was fixed.” Danny hesitated for a second before dropping the bomb on her. “It was fixed with Fentontech.”

He could hear the gasp from Jazz at the same time Ellie shivered in fear. Jazz took a steadying breath and Danny could practically see her going through her breathing exercises to control her own panic.

“I guess that problem will need to be dealt with sooner rather than later.”

“Mm. I’m hoping that with the help of the local heroes I won’t have to take care of everything myself, but…”

“Some things are personal.” Jazz finished for him. “I understand Danny.” She took another breath before changing topics, now sounding calm and professional. “Could you stay on the line? Tucker is tracking your location, and I would like to confirm for myself that the two of you are ok.”

“Of course Jazz. Do you want to talk to Ellie?” Danny was already removing the piece from his ear before Jazz could even confirm. Of course Jazz wanted to talk to Ellie. Jazz loved her niece more than oxygen. He slipped the piece into Ellie’s ear so they could talk.

“Hi Aunt Jazz! This is Ellie, I’ve missed you so much!” Ellie started talking excitedly greeting Jazz again as if Danny would just hand his earpiece to anyone.

Danny mentally checked out from their conversation as he stayed flying over the two Bats. His parents had already shared their technology with the GIW making it more dangerous to be a ghost or liminal. Even Jazz had been attacked once by GIW agents, though she had left all the agents with concussions and multiple broken bones once she was done with them.

If they were sharing their technology with other criminals like Freakshow, it was going to be even more dangerous. How long would it take until some of the big rogues get their hands on anti ghost tech? What could someone like the Joker or Luthor do if even the dead aren’t safe from their machinations?

Jason and Dick lead the two ghosts to a large manor on the outskirts of Gotham. Danny eventually recognizes it as Wayne manor. He would have to tell Sam she won their bet on Batman’s secret identity, not that they would ever tell anyone. He and Ellie were welcomed into the house by Alfred, the manor’s butler. The two of them settled in the dining room where Ellie was plied with dinner and dessert after her stressful time with Freakshow. Danny makes a mental note for his daughter to spend time with Aunt Jazz so she can talk things through free of judgment.

The two bat boys joined them shortly out of costume and the rest of the family trickled in throughout the day as their patrols ended. Damian, who was probably the stabby Robin, glared at them as if they were a threat to his family. Danny couldn’t help the thought that he puffed up like an angry cat. Cassandra and Stephanie, Black Bat and Spoiler respectively, worked together to pull Ellie from Danny’s lap to keep her entertained away from the serious discussion that was happening at the table. Timothy, or Red Robin (Yumm!) was on the receiving end of several stern looks from Alfred for having a computer at the dining table but he was taking rapid notes on everything Danny said.

Danny told them as much as he felt comfortable with. About ghosts, and over shadowing, and Infinite Realms. He tried to keep the conversation light and focused just on the simple details until Alfred escorted in Jazz at close to three in the morning.

“Aunt Jazz!” Ellie ran to her and jumped into her arms, Jazz swinging her up into the air easily. As if Ellie had been waiting to be reunited with her family she almost immediately fell asleep in Jazz’s arms. Alfred escorted the two to the guest room he had prepared hours ago.

Once Jazz had returned to the dining room it was time for the serious conversation. The GIW. The Anti-Ecto Act. The very real threat of extermination that every ectoplasm contaminated person now faced, which included more than half the bats currently at the table as well. Promises are made to get the League looking at the laws. Eventually the conversation turns to talking about Danny and Ellie.

“Technically she’s my clone.” Danny confessed. “My fruitloop god-father wanted to make me his perfect son, so he stole my DNA and cloned me. She was unstable for a long time and had to keep coming back for injections. We finally figured out what was going on two years ago.”

Danny rubbed a hand up and down his face as he gathered himself. He always hated that it had taken him so long to understand what she needed.

“Because he’s terrible at biology, he forced her human half to grow at an accelerated rate to match my age, but he couldn’t do the same with her ghost half. The two sides were at war, and it turns out she really was a baby ghost all along, but didn’t have an adult ghost around to be able to depend on. She changed her form to match her actual age, and I’ve been her ghost parent, so I’ve helped steady her core. Until Freakshow came along and stole her away while she still needed me.”

He glared at the table top as the temperature around him plummeted. Freakshow could have killed his little girl. It would have been all too easy and if Dick and Jason hadn’t helped take away his staff, Danny might have been too late. If Freakshow’s actions had led to Ellie’s death there would have been no safe haven for him in this life or the next. Jazz grabbing his hand brought him back before he sent the dining room into the next ice age.

The arrival of the daylight hero, Signal, aka Duke, reminded the lot they should have been asleep hours ago. Jazz and Danny retired to the same guest room Ellie was currently snoring away in. They settled down on either side of the bed from her, cuddling Danny’s daughter in the middle.

“What are we going to do about the Fentons?” Jazz whispered from across Ellie’s still form.

“If they’re helping villains, they’ve crossed a line. I’ll have to deal with them myself.” Danny hesitated for a bit. “I’ll have to wait until Ellie’s stable again, but then would you mind if she stayed with you? You’re family too, even if you don’t have a ghost form, so she should be stable with you too.”

“Of course I will, Danny. You don’t even have to ask.” Jazz said, she hesitated as well. “Are you going to bring them in to serve jail time?”

They had been his parents once. His mom and dad. Jazz still caught herself sometimes referring to them as their parents. But they had crossed too many lines. With Jazz’s childhood, after Danny’s accident, now with Ellie’s health. He took a shaky breath and shook his head.

“Their crimes are against the dead. And the dead are going to come for their due.”

Jazz nodded, small tears shining in her eyes, before she closed them and let the tears fall. The trio fell asleep, a small, strange family, reunited again after so long. Tomorrow would be a new challenge, but eventually they would know peace.

#dp x dc #danny fenton #jazz fenton #danielle fenton #she goes by ellie just like me #dick grayson #jason todd

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starsomens · 1 year ago

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Noah x reader with scene 14 and dialogues 1 & 9 please? 🖤🥹 fluff to start but no harm in adding in some NSFW 😉

Note: I put a lil twist in it! I hope this is okay!

Wantings: slight smut! 80% implied 20% written smut! But not a full on smut! Maybe a part 2 even ????? Some angst to fluff with some smut!

14: Embraces from behind where the other person nuzzles their nose into your neck; 1:"Stay with me tonight. please.", 9"you're absolutely perfect in my eyes."

The crowd roared in applause as you watch Noah close the show once again. That was it, the end of this tour and just like the others in the past, this was amazing as it was tiring. You were one of their staff and nothing more. The first thing you were ever told when finding bands to help on tour was

“Never get involved"

You had thought to yourself "this is a job, I'm not going to fall in love. That's silly" Now that is what you ha said at the start of this job. You tour with Bad Omens, male sure they're on time, things are in place, reservations are in order and of course helping with the band members as well. They were all so sweet and talented and honestly just a pleasure to work with.

Then there was Noah. Noah Sebastian, lead vocalist, song writer, producer of the band. He also holds the title of holding your heart captive. You never intended for it to go this way, you were trying to not get involved like they told you. At first it was just some glances that turned into conversations. Conversations would lead into the late night, where you scooch closer to one another. Hugs and handshakes lingered until one day it just snapped. Flirting became, soft touches, soft touches became caresses, caresses became kisses. Then it happened again...and again...and again...and again...and again. Until one day, during one his performances, he made eye contact with you during 'Bad Decisions' and you felt your heart sink into your stomach. Not in fear...no this feeling was scarier than fear...

"You can be all I got what the difference?" It was the way he looked at you when he said it. There was a gaze in his eyes as he breathed out the words. His eyes were deep and meaningful, like he was screaming something that couldn't be heard and it felt as though time had slowed down. "You and me and a lot of bad decisions. All I know..."

Bad decisions huh?

It was after about 7 months into your job thag you realized what it was that you wanted. You wanted Noah. You wanted to be with him and he's told you the same thing. He's offered for you to even keep your job if you wanted but, he wanted you to be his as much as you wanted him....but it couldn't be. So you made a very hard decision to leave. It would be better that way. So on the day you gave your 2 weeks notice you had asked Noah if you could stop by to talk with him. You had no idea how you'd tell him, let alone face him knowing you were going to leave.

So here you stood at his door waiting for him to answer. The setting sun blinging you as your palms were sweaty, your heart ached yet it drummed against your chest violently. You could hear Harper barking as he unlocked the door. He answered with a smile to which you had became accustomed to.

"Hey, come in. I'm really glad you stopped by today" he said enthusiastically, it was so out of his nature compared to who he was on stage. "How have you been?" he asked as he closed the door behind you

"I've been alright a little bus-" he cuts you off in a tight hug. Oh god, they way you could melt right there and then, so soft, warm and safe

“ listen I have something I really want to talk to you about.” he says, as he pulls away from you, resting his hands on your shoulders, giving him a slight squeeze. Some thing he would always do before he getting ready to go out on stage

"I do too Noah, let's sit down" you take his hand and lead him over to the sofa. After taking your seats his hand naturally lands on your knee, a habit he had grown into

"Look Noah I won't beat around the bush or lead you on and just come out with it...." you could see his face fall into a face of worry, his mind already jumping to conclusions. "...I'm not...going to be working with you...all anymore" you confess without even looking him the eye. You couldn't. If you looked at him now, you knew you wouldn't be able to walk away

"What? What do you mean? Did they fire you? They can't do that!"

"No they didn't I....I quit...." you tell him feeling your heart race and your palms sweat. You didn't want him to be upset or to panic

"You...you quit?" he seemed hurt from what you said "Was it....did I do something? Y/N, if I did I am so sorry I just wanted-"

"No, no it wasn't you Noah, I just...it's not...ugh" you take a deep breath and let it out "We are...very different Noah. You're this talented man in a band who is growing rapidly and with success you absolutely deserve and more" a tear finally falling from you eye as you verbally bring your thought into light "I'm just....someone who helps and I just don't fit in your world Noah. I'm just someone who you ran into. Not someone you could be with. I care about you and I love spending time with you and i....I...." you wanted to say it, it was killing you not to! But it just didn't come out

"Y/N...none of that is true" his spoke softly, his large hands cup your face. Holding you so gently, like you were made of glass, "None of it! Y/N I can't force you to work there but I want you to be with me. I want you to be mine, please..." he lowered his head to meet your eyes. His eyes pleading for you to understand what he was saying "Y/N, these past few months have been the best I have ever experienced and it's because of you. You are so much more than you say, so what if I'm in a band. I still care about you and want you in my life."

Your hands come up to hold his large hands "Noah I...I-I..." you sniff and shut your eyes "i have to go.." you say softly and stand from your spot quickly and make you way to the door

"Y/N, wait!" He stood up after you. He just couldn’t let you go. He felt like he found something he wasn’t supposed to lose. Just as your hand touch the door knob, he stopped you. His arms circling around you. Your back close to his chest and his head fell into your neck. He hold you tightly against him not planning on letting you get away.

Practically feel his heart beating against his chest. “ please don’t go not like this.” he said, breaking the silence. “ I feel so bad for you and I don’t want to lose it. After all this time I have feelings for you. I know we come from different place and you think we can’t be but we can! None of that matters…you matter to me…” your hands come to rest over his own arms hugging him back

“Noah I…..have feeling for you too….but I-“

“But nothing!” He cuts you off and turns you around “you absolutely perfect in my eyes. Perfect...in everyway” he rested his forehead on yours. His dark eyes staring into your E/C ones. His eyes flicker down to your lips and back to your eyes. His face inching closer to yours. His soft lips brush against yours

"Stay with me tonight...please.." he whispered against your lips

"noah..." you subconsciously call out to him before he crashes down on to your lips. It was different from all the pecks and make out sessions you had. This one was gentle, deep, passionate and full of what you could only know as love. His arm circles around you and pulls you closer into him. He pulls away from you, only enough to catch your breath

"will you stay with me..?" you knew he meant not just for the night. He meant tomorrow, and after that, and even more after that. You nod your head and boldly step forward to reconnect with his lips. You feet stumble together as you move through the house. running into walls, stopping to open doors, fumbling to get clothes off.

Gasps of air and pants filled the room. Your skin against his own, not remembering where you start and he ends. His kisses against your skin felt like fire, leaving marking in your skin forever. Your hands were tangled in his hair, tugging and pulling him closer to you. The weight of his body shifting on top of you, making you feel like nothing you’ve felt before. Was this love? Not just the sex, not just the sneaky kisses, but did you love Noah? For who he was, everything you’ve told him, everything he’s accomplished? Could you live him and could he love you?

“God…Y/N!” He moaned “fuck…Y/N I! Fuck! I love you! Shit I love you!” He moaned loud enough for the entire house to hear. Nothing could have prepared you for that or for

“I love you Noah! Ah!” For that. He falls next to you after hours of passionate sex. This was the first time you were intimate together in that way. It was so much more than you could imagine…it was otherworldly. Noah pulls you close to him and kisses the side of your head

“I hope you know I didn’t say that just because we were having sex”

“I uh…I meant it too..” you admit as you let yourself become vulnerable and let yourself be consumed by his embrace

“I really do love you Y/N. And I want this to be something beautiful and serious” he kissed your forehead again “I’m glad you stayed with me tonight”

You snuggle your face into his chest and smile to yourself

“Me too��

You in fact did stay that night. And the night after that one, and after that one, and after a few more and a few more.

「✨Taglist✨」 @lilhobgobbler @cncohshit @vir-tual @tdopomymind @concretenoah @misspygmypie @noah-seb-omens

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #badomens #noahsebastian #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens cult #star’s anons✨

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maybemanyskeletonhats · 2 years ago

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Hey!

I hope you are feeling good.

I read a lot of your works, and i love them, THEY ARE FABULOUS!!!

I hope to not bother or annoy you by making my request (in case forgive me, it wasn't my intention).

Could you write Reader x Elves? about how the elves would react to their s / o that due to this tremendous heat, they continue to feel bad/ill (literally these temperatures leading me to exhaustion ).

Thank you for everything, and i wish to you a nice day .

(Forgive me for my poor English, it isn't my first language).

Sotha Sil immediately takes notice of the fact they are visibly dizzy. Has water fetched for them as he goes to tweak his creation so it's just abit cooler. "I'll alter today's weather, you seem ill." He hides his concerned gaze

Vivec probably also hates the days where the warm heat in Vvardenfell turns too hot for even his tastes. Sometimes it's bearable, other times its not. Notices their disorientation and has someone get them water and shade quickly. He's seen people pass out before...it's...frightening. "a little steamy today wouldn't you say?"

Almalexia is usually in the shade but when she's out in the sun she'll sometimes fan herself or her partner when they both feel hot. Also water. Drink water. No they don't get a choice. "Drink. Don't give me that look."

Voryn Dagoth grew used to the heat. But is really in tune with catching those who aren't. If they are teetering on the edge of passing out he will convince them to lie down and have a glass of water at their bedside.

Mannimarco can't feel the heat and it takes him a surprising amount of time to catch on that they don't feel good. Even if he doesn't really get hot himself all that much. He'll gladly feign relief to go indoors if it makes them feel better. "Hmph."

Neloth finds that the tower is usually cooler due to the walls taking in water from the ground but he immediately feels the change when he steps out in the sun. Complains till both he and his partner can get indoors. Sadly they're both terrible at dealing with it. "By malacath it's HOT."

Divayth Fyr isn't usually bothered by the heat himself because he's had SO long to get used to it. But he's smart enough to know they aren't. So he makes sure they drink water and nudges them to sit down when they don't feel well. "Sit down. Oh please they don't care what you do."

Ondolemar hates being in Markarth in the summer but being in the keep usually helps him..they don't have that luck unfortunately. So when they arrive back eyes fluttering and skin red he's immediately tense and ready to catch them when they fall. Barks at the poor chef to get them water. "Go, you imbecile, water!"

Indoril Nerevar is usually used to it but when it gets real bad even he's somewhat light headed. He gets them water himself and will even idly wave a fan at them to help them cool off. He can't change the weather but he can most certainly try to help.

Vanus Galerion is leaning on them also. They both can't stand the hot temperature with no breeze. when they both get to shade and water he drops to his knees in relief. "By the GODS." Has them drink and lie on their back till they feel better.

Teldryn Sero feels for them. Truly. He had years to get used to it especially when wearing so much armor. Tosses his canteen to them and subtlety pushes them into places where it's gonna be cooler. What do you mean? He's not worried.

#the elder scrolls #elder scrolls morrowind #sotha sil #eso #vivec #almalexia #neloth #divayth fyr #teldryn sero #voryn dagoth #indoril nerevar #vanus galerion #ondolemar

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thatmexisaurusrex · 1 year ago

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Hi!! For the Summer Fling: #4 + one of them is in danger and "might" die, pretty please??

Magnificent choice, @funsized-loser! Enjoy the little fluff ficlet! 🥰

Love Confessions

| 1 | Prompts | 3 |

"Good teamwork."

Good teamwork.

Bucky had watched Sam smile at him, gave Sam a thumbs up when Sam asked if Bucky was okay, and Bucky had nodded and said, "Good teamwork."

Sam.

With the gap in his teeth. With that long sigh as he released all his tension. The quirk to his smile which meant it was real and not Sam putting up a front for the team.

Relaxed.

Happy.

Distracted, Bucky supposed now, as they smiled at each other.

Before Bucky watched a puncture through Sam that dragged Sam backward.

A grappling hook through Sam.

Bucky saw the surprise on Sam as he disappeared through the barnyard door. The gasp on Sam's face before he was gone.

Just.

Gone.

Bucky didn't hear what people were saying around him. He didn't know what he said back. Bucky's body moved on its own, on instinct as he followed.

The trail of blood out of the barn.

Good teamwork.

The signs of Sam's wing's piercing the ground, dragging along with Sam, like hoes digging small trenches for seeds.

Good teamwork.

Broken branches, torn up bushes.

Good teamwork.

Broken Redwings.

Good teamwork.

Bucky didn't remember when fist met face, but there was one of the bastards, knocked out on the ground. And another. Three more. Bucky couldn't focus. Couldn't breathe.

"James?"

Quiet.

Warbling.

Pained.

Sam.

Bucky fell to his knees, first aid like second nature. Because he prepared for this. In practice drills. In his head. Over and over just in case, needing to know this. Because Bucky already knew how to hurt things. But he wanted to know he could heal things too.

A hand.

Rough.

And shaking.

Touching his.

Bucky grabbed it as he turned to Sam. Sam fucking grinning like he didn't have a bleeding hole through him.

"Good teamwork," groaned Sam, "Though, I have to say, I wore them down. Easy pickings after how I fought them."

Bucky let out a laugh that sounded more like a bark.

Good teamwork.

"Them? They're nothing. We need better foes to see who's better at fighting," Bucky said, hearing the emotion in his voice, feeling the tears.

Sam's thumb weakly rubbed the back of Bucky's hand. The one keeping pressure on the wound.

"Knew you'd come," whispered Sam.

Soft.

Gazing at Bucky like this wasn't life or death.

"I love you," blurted Bucky, "I've always loved you."

Sam grinned.

"I know," mumbled Sam as he weakly squeezed Bucky's hand, "Love you too. And stop acting like I'm dying. It hit no vital organs. I'm going to be fine."

"Says the man who got grappling hooked," laughed Bucky.

"I've been through worse," groaned Sam.

"I know," whispered Bucky as he remembered waking up from the snap, watching Sam appear right before his eyes from dust, "But I hate it when you're hurt, okay?"

"Are you going to take care of me after the hospital?" asked Sam, his eyes deep and fond even in this state.

"You'll get all the soup you can eat from me," said Bucky, which made Sam laugh.

Then groan.

"No making me laugh right now," moaned Sam, "God. I just want to kiss you, but I'm pretty sure I'd bleed out if I tried."

Bucky leaned down and kissed Sam himself. Felt Sam relax.

"You two are - I knew it," said Joaquín, annoyingly yet thankfully interrupting the kiss as he situated Sam for the helicopter to the hospital.

"Don't be mean to the man who just got grappling hooked," groaned Sam as he kept holding onto Bucky's hand, "And you - I want you on the helicopter, James. I'm serious."

Bucky could feel Sam's hand quake. Bucky nodded, walking along with Joaquín and the EMTs to the helicopter.

"Of course. Always," said Bucky as he helped load Sam in and sat next to Sam, "Where you go, I go."

Sam nodded. Bucky kissed the back of Sam's hand. Kept holding that hand as the helicopter lifted off.

💌 💌 💌 💌 💌

Want me to write a ficlet for you? Check out the prompts and send me an ask! 🥰

#sambucky summer fling collection #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky ficlet #mission fic #bucky takes care of sam #hurt comfort #love confession #my ficlets

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 2 years ago

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Part 9

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 8 🟣 Part 10

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, oral (m receiving), attempt at Dom!Mikey (interrupted), p-in-v sex, vampire shenanigans, mentions of blood, biting.

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: My girl @geralts-yenn sent me an ask a while back, about how I was being unfair keeping the kinky little bites to myself, and since I'm a people-pleaser (and I was already thinking we were light on the smut in this one...) there you go ;)

@deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @teamfan7asy @mis-lil-red @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81

“I passed my resit!” Mike had been struggling with that class the whole way through, and you could tell he was really glad it was over now. He’d tried to explain the contents of it to you six or seven times, but you were still completely clueless. It had something to do with engineering – which wasn’t surprising, for a mechanical engineering major.

“I’d say dinner is on me, but…” He rolled is eyes at you – which was fair; it was a horrible joke on your part.

“May I suggest something?” What was he on about? “You really want to do something nice for me. I appreciate that.” Of course he knew that was what you wanted to do right now – how were you still not the least bit used to that?

“Alright, shoot,” you said, even though you had a fairly good idea of how this was going to end. He just grinned and walked over, which was really all the confirmation you needed.

The one thing everyone knew about Mikey was that he had absolutely zero patience. Sitting still, waiting in line, being quiet – it would all turn him annoyingly jittery within minutes. But if you made the mistake of giving this jackass the opportunity to take your clothes off: patience of an angel. Begging would either work in your favor, or he’d really start to play with you, and from experience you knew that trying to help him along would land you shackled to his headboard. Not that that would be so terrible, but you were counting on being able to use your hands. The smug smirk on his face told you that he already knew you wanted him to go faster.

“Baby, please, I want to give you a little something for that grade,” you said. He winked as if to say ‘I know you do’, and kept going. Slowly, so fucking slowly… It was hard for him to show restraint when he finally made it past your blouse, and he was more or less face to face with his favorite toys.

Dating Mike saved you whatever money you used to shell out on matching sets of expensive lace underwear. He’d seen the stuff you already owned, shrugged, and greedily proceeded to unwrap the last bits of you. Sometimes, you just really wanted to be with a guy who appreciated it when you made an effort to dress up for him – and the fact that Mike was well aware of that broke your heart every time you were reminded of it.

“Get on your knees for me,” Mike said as he leaned back against his desk. He startled you; the usual playful tone in his voice was gone – traded in for something so serious and demanding you were surprised he even managed it. There was a darkness to it that caused a tingling sensation to creep down your spine. “It wasn’t a question. I know what you want, now be good for me and get on your knees.” It wasn’t in his voice or even in any other physical reaction of his body, but you could tell he wasn’t completely secure in his little experiment right here. Barking orders was the territory of August, of even Marshall – although you doubted the latter would be inclined to bring that talent into the bedroom. Guilt gnawed at your guts as for a second you wondered what it would be like to be in this position with either of them, knowing Mike could probably tell that you thought so.

“Down, now.” Yeah. He caught on to that little wicked whim. Fingers dug into the flesh of your shoulder and shoved you down. You understood the irritation. And you felt bad. Right?

Mike’s fingers dug into your shoulder even harsher, to the point where he actually hurt you, and he growled when he spoke again: “Open your fucking mouth.” Yeah. It didn’t suit him. At all.

“Stop it, Mikey,” you said. Was it a strong reaction? Sure. Was it necessary? Yeah. Unfortunately, it was. “What the fuck was that?” You scrambled to your feet and looked at Mike.

“It’s what you want.”

“Mikey…” The whole Dom/sub dynamic thing, whatever… It was something you were more than willing to experience, but Mike was more than enough for you just the way he was. And that wasn’t this. “Does the concept latent desire mean anything to you?” You could see it in his eyes; it really didn’t. Or he had some vague idea of what it was supposed to entail, but definitely not something he had any close personal experience with. Mike was… Something in your head just clicked.

“You didn’t just get your gift because Marshall turned you, did you? It’s because you were an impulsive, slightly hedonistic little jackass, isn’t it?” You couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Eh, that might have had something to do with it, yeah…” Mike admitted. It was clearly difficult for him.

“I don’t have to act on every whim, or every desire I happen to have,” you said, “and there’s a few I certainly don’t want to act on with you. Because this degrading, dominant… asshole – because that’s what you are to me right now – it’s not you. I want my impulsive, playful Mikey back, please. Please.” He thought about what you said for a moment. Was he scared? There was something in his eyes…

“Tell me what you’re thinking, baby.” You ran a hand through his hair before resting your palm on his cheek.

“Don’t leave me for August,” he said in the smallest, lowest voice – probably so low that the others wouldn’t be able to hear it. You almost laughed at the ridiculous idea.

“Never,” you promised. Mike seemed to perk up a little when he heard you say it – and probably felt that you meant it. Nevertheless, you were hell-bent on proving it to him.

You kissed him softly while sliding your hands underneath the fabric of his shirt until you had to let him go for a moment to pull it over his head. He was eager to get his mouth back on yours, but you ducked.

“He- Oh…” You chuckled when the sounds escaped him; a moan interrupting his own objection. That was him. The idiot smile on his face – that you could see as he looked down on you while you kissed all the way down his chest on your way to get back on your knees for him – that was him, too. Mike freed his cock while you were still on your way, and as soon as you were sat in front of him, he put it to your lips, spreading a drop of precum over them. It was a question or an invitation, rather than a demand. It was Mikey.

You wished you could just open your mouth and take him all the way in. He’d love it, you were sure of that. Unfortunately, you weren’t blessed with a talent like that – although you and Mike definitely tried very hard to get rid of your gag reflex. Mike interrupted your thoughts by impatiently tapping his cock against your lips.

“Open your mouth, baby.” It was the signature boyish impatience you were so familiar with that made you want to listen, you were hoping he got that. Of course he got that. He better fucking understand that that was exactly what got him what he wanted.

You barely got the change to stick your tongue out. Your plan had been to tease him a little, circle the head of his cock with your tongue, lick that spot you knew drove him wild, but as soon as you opened your mouth, he pushed in. So you went with that. This was the new plan. Actually, it was Mikey: there was no plan. You listened to his sweet moans of pleasure as you moved your head up and down his shaft, and then… A hard grunt when your teeth scraped his skin – accidentally, of course.

“Fuck, baby, do that again?” He liked it? Alright, no time to question that: he liked it – and you were more than happy to answer to his request. For a while, you explored this newfound little turn-on of his, varying pressure and places. It was definitely the most fun you had ever had while blowing a guy.

“Eh, babe,” you heard after a while, “gimme a little more here? You’re so fucking close to taking me all the way down…” Shit, you hadn’t even noticed that your little bout of experimenting had led you to work more of Mike’s length into your mouth than you ever had. Now that you did realize, the nerves kicked in.

Mike put a hand on your head and looked at you with a clear ‘may I?’ burning in his eyes. The slightest bit of pressure followed immediately; after all, he knew what you wanted…

“Holy fuck, Sweetcheeks, you are so fucking hot.” There was something in his voice that told you he was proud of you. You were proud of yourself, too, so that worked out nicely. Just to see what would happen, you sank your teeth in his flesh again.

“Easy, Sweetcheeks” Mike laughed, “don’t want you to make me cum just yet.” You whined when he pulled out of your mouth and somehow threw you on your bed, got naked, and grabbed a condom in the same second. Well… ‘Somehow’ was an overstatement; it was obviously vampire-speed. Even though you watched him do it, you didn’t see it. It was annoying. It felt as if your eyes failed you, even though you knew they didn’t. Dwelling on it was impossible, though, because Mike was already on top of you, smirking at you with abundant idiot-vibes, kissing your mouth, cheeks, jaw, neck, forehead, ears, shoulders. Licking your cheek. For reasons unbeknownst to literally any living soul but Mike himself.

“Yikes! Mikey! Don’t lick me!” Hold on? Did you just hear someone laugh? It sure as fuck wasn’t Mike… Luckily you had only been partially undressed. Mike had only taken your shirt off before starting his little experiment.

“I don’t know who that was, but butt out,” Mike said before you could even open your mouth. He turned to you next: “I swear they don’t listen, but you kinda shouted that. And it was funny, I’ll give him that.”

“Who was it?” Did you want to know? Yeah, you were far too curious. But needing to know something and actually wanting to hear the answer… Two entirely different things.

“August,” Mike said. His tone was very neutral.

“Ah. Well I guess I owe him one,” you said softly as you felt your cheeks warm up.

“What, for walking in on him jacking off? Yeah, the whole house heard that.” Mike laughed the way you loved so much; loudly and unapologetically. He ordered the rest of the house to put on headphones and went back to kissing you all over – although he didn’t lick your cheek again.

“Hm, my reward for passing my class,” he mused when he had – barely – managed to get rid of your bra with it still in one piece.

“That blowjob was your reward,” you replied to him, which earned you a disapproving look from below.

“I want both.” Well, okay, if he was going to give you that look… Done deal. Stupid puppy-eyed boyfriend. You could easily imagine falling asleep to the treatment he gave your boobs; gently massaging and squeezing the flesh of your breasts while he sucked on your nipples. He was gentle, his touch comforting and thrilling, making you shiver and arch into his touch. He focused on your chest for a while, but it wasn’t too long before his hands started to wander, clearly on a mission to take the rest of your clothes off. It didn’t take him long – of course it didn’t.

“Head or dick?” Oh, options! How fantastic! You laughed when he asked, cupping his chin with your hand, pulling him back up so he could kiss you. “No head?”

“No,” you sighed into his mouth, whimpering as he pulled away to take care of the uncharming latex-y aspect of things.

He sank into you without hesitation, and a little too enthusiastically, causing you to gasp.

“Sorry Sweetcheeks,” he said, apologetic smirk on his face, “couldn’t wait. Love the way your pussy feels too much.” You’d been so startled – and almost ashamed – the first time you had slept together and he’d talked to you like that, but now you never wanted to have to miss it. It was worth enduring the occasional tongue on your cheek.

Mike’s movements became more controlled, thrusts now slow and deep, making sure you felt every inch of him inside of you. His mouth latched onto your nipple again as he kept moving. It was nice, even when he grazed the sensitive skin with his teeth.

You heard the low growl, deep at the back of his throat, felt his fangs drag over your skin, decidedly sharper than the rest of his teeth.

“You want a bite, don’t you?” The answer was the cutest little ‘mhm’, and you chuckled. “Go ahead, baby.”

Expectations: a bite like the last few times you’d spent time dabbling in this funky little kink of his. Teeth on neck, teeth in neck, teeth out of neck. Reality: Teeth in boob. The pain was as manageable as always – comparable to a bite on your neck, slightly more painful than your wrists – but the unexpectedness was startling.

“Mikey!” you warned, even though it was clearly already too late for a warning. You could tell from the way he moved that he was chasing his release, getting closer with every controlled, shallow thrust, as he suckled on your breast. Fuck, it felt good. Everything he did now was so gentle, so different from your normal, lively, enthusiastic rounds in the sheets – or in the shower, or that one time on the couch when you had the apartment to yourselves – but it was fantastic.

Mike didn’t let go of you when he finally came, which wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

“Mike,” you said softly while you stroked his hair, hoping he’d look up. He did shift, and his cock slipped out of you, so that was one crisis averted, but he didn’t detach from your boob. “Mi-key. Stop.” The truth was that you didn’t want him to stop. But like you had said before: you weren’t giving him that privilege over the others, and he’d have to deal with that.

“Mike, I want you to stop.” He had to. He would have, even if he wasn’t biologically compelled to, you were sure of that, but he was, so he had to listen to you all the more. “That was a little more than the kinky little bite you asked for, wasn’t it?” He looked ashamed of himself when he confirmed your suspicion.

“Sorry, baby, you just taste so good,” he said before his tongue gently lapped at the puncture wounds on your chest. You had noticed that the Sherlock and August had also done that when they had been done feeding. And Marshall, at the end of the second try.

“Why do you do that?” you asked.

“It helps the wounds heal,” Mike said, “some enzyme or God knows what. I’m an engineer, not a biologist.” Sherlock would definitely know the answer. You’d been showering him with questions, anyway, a few more wouldn’t hurt. Besides, he quite seemed to like giving you lectures. It was probably a nice change of pace from a half-dead classroom.

Mike took care of cleanup, and upon return he snuggled into your side, no doubt sending that was what you wanted most right now.

“Can I do anything for you?” Another redundant question made the first one pop back into your head. You assured him this was everything you wanted from him before unleashing your question.

“You knew,” you said. Was it an accusation? Not really.

“Knew what?” He wasn’t feigning his innocence; it was genuinely a super vague question.

“The second you asked me if I wanted you to go down on me or fuck me, you knew what the answer was going to be.”

“I did.” He laughed softly. You loved it when he did that

“You asked out of politeness.” You almost didn’t believe it.

“Eh… Yeah. I’ve been told – not just by you, by the way – that it’s annoying when I snoop around in your head. So I figured I’d try to get used to asking for some confirmation…”

“Confirmation you don’t need,” you said. Your fingers twirled around in his hair, wrapping his dark locks around them and releasing them again. It made him shiver and moan slightly, which made it your favorite pastime when you were in bed with him.

“Confirmation I want because maybe what you want and what you want me to know you want – or what you want me to act on – are not the same thing.”

“Who have you been talking to?”

“Sherlock,” he admitted. You laughed. That sounded like him.

“I passed my final!” Mike said when you appeared at the dinner table for… well, dinner.

“We heard,” August groaned. You hit him over the head with a book. It almost cost you the book, but August’s skull seemed to be fine.

“We’re robust, love, you must have noticed.” At this point, you didn’t bother telling Marshall to get out of your head anymore.

“Where’d you bite her?” August asked as he handed you a stack of plates while not-so-subtly investigating your neck. Mike didn’t answer, but a suggestive eyebrow-wiggle did the trick just fine. You assumed everyone in the house knew exactly how fond Mike was of boobs, anyway. He wasn’t particularly secretive about that, or anything.

“Kinky,” August replied. He pinched your ass when you were bent over the table to put plates down on the other side, making you jump.

“Hey!” You couldn’t help but laugh. Over the past few weeks, some of the tension between Mike and August had dissolved, and despite Mike’s lingering insecurities, everyone got along really well. “August, hands off.” Wait, why were they laughing? Why wasn’t Mike throwing a fit? You would have expected him to kick August’s ass if he… Of course.

“Mikey!” They had promised to not abuse their stupid abilities to mess with you.

“Couldn’t help myself, Sweetcheeks,” he said, putting a lot of emphasis on that last syllable before laughing at his own corny joke.

“Next time, bite her there,” Marshall joked.

“Eh, guys, can we cool it on the locker room talk?” It’s not that the general subject was making you uncomfortable, but you yourself being the specific subject sure did. “Out of curiosity, what is the best place to… y’know.” Chickening out on that last bit really hurt your girlboss act. Damn!

“Tiddies,” Mike said as he walked past you, pressing his lips to your cheek. Marshall and August had more complicated answers. You could tell from the mischievous glint in their eyes.

“Come on, boys, if you’re tough enough to make fun of me and Mikey for… I don’t know, being the only ones in a relationship, I guess?”

“Alight,” Marshall gave in, “if you must know. You edge her for a bit and right when she’s about to cum all over your face; inside of her thigh.” The grin on his face was unbearable, the wink – or attempt at a wink – was even worse.

“Thanks for the tip!” Mike said. There was far too much grinning going on here for your liking, but you couldn’t exactly be mad at it, because it was your own fault.

“Nah, you spank her good, until her ass is nice and red, then you bite it. I’ve been told it hurts like a bitch.” Alright, August definitely enjoyed that thought a little too much.

“My Goodness, I have three children,” Sherlock suddenly said, strolling into the kitchen so casually you weren’t sure if you were discussing kinky vampire habits or the evening news. Judging from the way he glared at the guys, it didn’t bother him that they talked about it, but it did bother him that they were being a certain kind of way about it.

“So, no crazy vampire kinks for you?” Perhaps Sherlock’s answer was the one you were most curious about.

“Not particularly. Can we please discuss something else?” He looked so uncomfortable you almost wanted to hug him. In fact…

“Sherlock, are you alright?” He shook his head and explained he’d had a terrible day at work. Some kind of incident he couldn’t say too much about. Before you knew it, you had your arms wrapped around him, his casually resting on the side of your hips. You didn’t know where the sudden urge to comfort him came from, but it was there. He was a good friend, he deserved to be taken care of.

“Why don’t you go take a shower, we’ll wait for a bit,” August suggested, and everyone else agreed. It was August’s lasagna, which was absolutely fucking delicious. Then again, he’d had four centuries to learn how to cook.

#mike hellraiser fic #mike x ofc #mike hellraiser #mike (hellraiser)#hellraiser mike #mike hellraiser fanfiction #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #walter marshall #hc sherlock #henry cavill sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes #august walker #august walker fanfiction #mike hellraiser smut #mike (hellraiser) x reader #mike hellraiser x reader

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rose-sophia-isabella-rogers · 2 years ago

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A Tale of Stolen Hearts: Chapter II - Who Wants You Dead? Yes, There's a Line

Chapter Summary: What is the best way to stop someone from wanting to kill you?

Pairing: Aleksander Kirigan/Reader, Ivan/Fedyor Kaminsky

Characters: Aleksander Kirigan, Reader, Zoya Nazyalensky, Fedyor Kaminsky, Ivan

Word Count: 4434

A/N: Inspired by prompts: https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089550781/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533224/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533205/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089571714/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533220/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533295/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533280/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533206/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089569879/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089533274/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089550823/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089550847/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089554945/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089577829/

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@budugu

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

You make yourself a tea, your eyes barely open. You barely slept that night. But you don't want to keep Kirigan waiting. Or he'd show up in your apartment uninvited again. And that you do not want. In fact, you'd be happy to never see him again. But you sister had to meddle, as always. You swear, sometimes (or most of the times) you really hate her.

You quickly drink tea, put your shoes and coat on and leave your apartment. You head toward the hotel, but this time toward the front entrance. On your way there you wonder whether to try to be nice or don't even bother. Maybe yesterday you both were just angry about the situation? Maybe there's still hope for you two to get along?

'Why is such a beautiful dame all on her own?' a voice pulls you away from your thoughts. You stop and turn around. A handsome blond man dressed in smart clothes smiles at you. You put your hand on your hip.

'I'm actually going on a meeting,' you say. 'So, I'm in a hurry. Why don't you call your friends and we can have it over with?'

The man looks at you with surprise. You snort.

'Please,' you scoff. 'It's way too early to pick up a woman like that. And never in my life a man in such suit even looked at me. So. Shall we?'

'Well, it does make things easier, I suppose,' the man says after a moment with a smirk. He whistles and in a second you're surrounded. Well, there's more of them than you hoped. They all take out knifes and threaten you with them menacingly.

'I don't suppose you could tell me who wants me dead?' you ask. The man shakes his head.

'Sorry, sweetheart, it doesn't work like that,' he says. The next second there's a knife lodged in his arm. He screams in pain and falls on his knee.

'Don't call me "sweetheart",' you say, your voice falsely sweet. The man glares at you.

'Get her!' he barks and at once men jump on you. You gulp and take the fighting stance. You start exchanging blows with assassins. Soon they're falling on the ground, screaming in pain. You hiss when you get hit but still stand your ground. You have to, otherwise you're a dead woman.

Suddenly, you feel uneasy. It gets darker. The men in front of you fall on the ground. In pieces. Men around you freeze. You look up, stunned. You see Kirigan, staring at you calmly.

'What are you doing here?' you ask.

'I was making sure you'll actually show up,' Kirigan answers. 'Good thing I did, apparently.'

You want to say you were doing just fine. But you weren't. And you don't even have a chance to say it, because there's a gunshot and Kirigan grabs in arm, wincing.

'Oh, you little…' you say and throw a knife at the man that shot Kirigan. He yells in pain and falls on the ground. With Kirigan's help (even though he's wounded), you quickly deal with others. Some flee, not wanting to fight with the Darkling. Soon it's just you two, breathing heavily.

'Way to start a day,' you say and turn to Kirigan. He's holding his arm, wincing. You see blood dripping on the ground. You curse under your breath.

'We have to get you patched up,' you say, walking to him.

'I'll live,' Kirigan says. 'We should get to the hotel.'

'My place is closer,' you say, shaking your head. 'No way I'm letting you go like this all the way to the hotel. Come on.'

You grab his other arm and start dragging him to your apartment. Kirigan sighs.

'Do you ever listen to someone else?' he asks but allows you to lead him to your place.

'Not really, no,' you answer. A few minutes later you let him into your apartment. He seems fine, but his arm is still bleeding. Stupid arm. Why doesn't it stop the bleeding by itself?

'Don't bleed on my floor,' you say to Kirigan, while heading toward your medical supplies.

'Oh, I'm sorry, would you prefer for me to bleed out outside?' General asks.

'You're not going to bleed out,' you say, rolling your eyes. You grab what you need and come back to him.

'You know, you could undress in the meantime,' you say. 'I'm not going to stitch you through your clothes. Unless you want them to be stitched to you.'

He starts to unfasten his kefta, but it's hard with one arm injured. You put medical supplies on the table and walk to him.

'Let me,' you say and quickly unfasten his kefta. He raises his eyebrows at you.

'Slow down, we've just met yesterday,' he says. You stop and give him a look. He smirks at you. You shake your head and take off his kefta and then his shirt after unbuttoning it. You'd probably admire his chest if his arm wasn't covered in blood.

'Let's get to work, then,' you say and start cleaning the wound. 'Well, it doesn't look bad.'

'That's a relief,' Kirigan says, his voice flat. You roll your eyes and disinfect the wound.

'Does it sting?' you ask.

'No,' Kirigan answers. You glance at him. His face is like a mask. No emotions. You start treating his wounds.

'Did you really believe I wouldn't show up?' you ask.

'Well, we didn't exactly part on good terms, so I wanted to be sure,' Kirigan answers.

'Wow, thanks,' you say sarcastically.

'I admit, I didn't expect you to be almost killed,' Kirigan says. 'I was surprised for a moment.'

'Yeah… Thank you. For helping me. I didn't expect you to do that.'

'If anyone's going to kill you, it's going to be me.'

'… Fair enough.'

You finish bandaging his wound. You look at it critically and step away.

'Done, but a Healer should take a look at it,' you say.

'Good thing one is at the hotel,' Kirigan says and puts on his clothes. 'Which is where are we going to head now.'

'And then what?' you ask.

'We're going to discuss plans and possibly leave this city,' Kirigan answers. You cross your arms and scoff.

'Something's the matter?' Kirigan asks you.

'I don't know about you, but I don't want to be hunted by assassins through the whole country,' you say. Kirigan raises his eyebrows.

'I think we scared them enough not to make them follow us,' he says. You laugh.

'Sorry, but this is Caryeva,' you say. 'When someone hires an assassin, they have to follow the job or they're going to be killed instead. Trust me, they will try again. Before I go anywhere, I have to find out who wants to kill me, why and stop them from doing so.'

'And how do you suggest we do that?' Kirigan asks, exasperated with you. You think for a moment. Then, your face falls.

'My cousin may know who hired them,' you say. 'She… knows this kind of people.'

Kirigan stares at you for a moment. It clicks for him.

'She's an assassin herself, isn't she?' he asks. You sigh.

'Yeah,' you answer. 'Point is, she can find out who hired the kill… and make them reconsider their decision.'

'I think it's better to leave the city as soon as possible,' Kirigan says after a moment.

'You don't know if they won't go after us,' you argue. General scoffs.

'And do you know if we can't handle them?' he asks.

'All I know is one of us is right, the other one is you,' you answer. Kirigan glares at you, as if wanting to kill you with his sight alone.

'Do I really have to drag you to the hotel?' he asks.

'Try, I won't go easily,' you say, shrugging. Kirigan groans and combs his hair with his hand.

'Go to hell,' he says through gritted teeth. You smirk.

'Been there, devil didn't like me and spat me back out,' you say. Kirigan stares at you.

'You are unbelievable,' he says and sighs. 'Fine. Let's go to your cousin. But if all of that is going to take too long, we're leaving the city.'

'Deal,' you say and force a smile. 'Let's go introduce you to my lovely cousin, Anastasia.'

It's an hour later and you're standing in front of a small house. You brace yourself and ring the doorbell. A moment later a butler opens the door. Kirigan raises eyebrows at that.

'Miss [L/N],' the butler greets you. 'What a pleasant surprise. Who should I announce you with?'

'General Kirigan,' you answer. The butler nods and lets you in. He leads you to the living room and goes to look for your cousin. Kirigan takes a walk around the room.

'It's a fine house,' he says.

'You'd be surprised how well people pay for killing someone,' you say and ponder. 'It makes me curious how much is promised for my head…'

'Not enough, if you ask me,' a woman says, entering the room. She smiles dazzlingly and opens her arms.

'[Y/N], sunshine, it's so good to see you!' she says and hugs you despite your protests. 'Especially since you weren't on our last family dinner.'

She gives you a pointed look. You force a smile and pull away.

'I was busy,' you say. Anastasia rolls her eyes and walks to the door.

'Give me a second, I'll call for tea,' she says and exits the room for a second. Kirigan raises his eyebrows at you.

'When your family consists of sociopaths and murderers, you tend to hate the holidays,' you explain.

'And you're not one?' Kirigan asks. You roll your eyes.

'Please, I'm a Saint compared to my family,' you say and shut up, as just then your sister returns. She smiles at Kirigan.

'Well, well, well, I never thought I'd see the day General Kirigan would visit me,' she says and offers him her hand. 'Anastasia [L/N], pleasure to meet you, General.'

'The pleasure is mine, Miss [L/N],' Kirigan says silkily, kissing your cousin's hand. You roll your eyes.

'Such a gentleman,' Anastasia says and giggles. 'Please! Take a seat.'

You all sit down around a small table. A moment later the butler brings in your tea. Your sister pours it personally for you two.

'[Y/N], that guy you met this morning was pretty cute,' she says casually. Ah, of course she knows all about it.

'That guy was an assassin,' you say. 'He tried to kill me.'

'Still cute,' your sister argues.

'Stop trying to set me up,' you sigh. 'You're terrible at it.'

Your cousin laughs. You want to strangle her.

'Very well,' she says and smiles flirtatiously at Kirigan. 'I have to admit your new friend is even cuter.'

Kirigan smiles at her. You look him up and down with wide eyes.

'Where?' you ask. Kirigan glares at you. You ignore him and turn to your cousin.

'I don't suppose you know who wants me dead?' you ask. She shakes her head.

'Sorry, hon, I don't,' she says. 'I know someone is, because I was there when they were trying to kill you. I would have helped, hon, but I was at the job at the moment. May I add, that I succeeded at mine, even splendidly. Still, you managed. Thanks to a certain lovely Shadow Summoner. '

She winks at Kirigan. You want to gag.

'How can I find out who wants me dead?' you ask instead. Anastasia laughs.

'Darling, you know very well there's a line,' she says. Kirigan looks at you curiously.

'I stole from a lot of people,' you say, shrugging. 'Somehow, they're not pleased about it.'

'Can't imagine why,' Kirigan says dryly.

'While I don't know who hired those ruffians, it does tell us something,' Anastasia says, tapping her chin with her finger. 'The order came to the guild.'

'Guild?' Kirigan asks, surprised. 'Assassins have their guild?'

'Of course, they do,' Anastasia answers and pouts. 'Buuut since I'm a member of [L/N] family, I am forbidden from setting my foot there. Sorry, hon.'

You huff in irritation. You need to leave the city soon. But you can't do this if there's a bunch of assassins after you. There must be away to find out who wants you dead.

'Where could I find out who hired the hit?' you ask, thinking.

'Probably in a safe in the office of the Grand Master,' Anastasia answers, tilting her head. 'What are you thinking, [Y/N]?'

'Oh, you know me,' you answer and grin. 'I'm just going to break into the building belonging to the assassins' guild and crack a safe.'

'You must be joking,' Kirigan sighs.

'How would that work?' your cousin asks, interested. 'You know how tight their security is.'

'Well… there happens to be an old sewer system under their building,' you answer, smirking. 'And I know for a fact that one can use it to get to the basement. From there it would be just walking a few floors up and into the Grand Master's office. There crack a safe, see what I need to see and get away as fast as possible. You wouldn't want to help, wouldn't you?'

'This plan of yours is gonna get us killed,' Anastasia says after a moment and grins. 'Of course, I'm in!'

You hear Kirigan murmuring something under his breath. But he sighs and nods.

'Very well,' he says. 'But let's do it fast and let's plan it well.'

'Are you doubting I can plan a break-in?' you ask. 'Didn't I steal from you?'

'Oh, really?' Anastasia asks. Kirigan glares at you. You wave your hand.

'I'll tell you later,' you say. 'Now, where do you have plans of the building? I know you do.'

'My office, tell Hans to give it to you,' your cousin answers, her eyes not leaving Kirigan. You sigh and leave a room. Silence fills the room. Anastasia stares at Kirigan from behind her cup. He clears his throat.

'May I ask why did you decide to be an assassin?' he asks. 'It's not exactly-'

'A lady-like profession?' Anastasia interrupts him. 'Well, I don't want to be lady-like. I want to lure men to their death.'

'That's a very… commendable purpose,' Kirigan says slowly. Anastasia grins. You return to the room to your cousin's disappointment.

'Hans still doesn't trust me,' you inform her. 'He won't enter the office with me and feels it would be unproper to enter your "sanctuary" without you.'

'Oh, sweet, dear Hans,' Anastasia sighs and stands up. 'I'll be right back.'

She sashes out of the room. You fall back in your seat and look at Kirigan.

'You alive?' you ask. Kirigan hesitates.

'Your cousin is… a delight,' he says.

'Does it mean you want to keep her?' you ask hopefully.

'Over my dead body,' Kirigan answers at once. You can't help it and laugh. Kirigan stares at you. You could swear there's a hint of smile on his face. But it's gone in a second, as then Anastasia returns to the room with plans in her hands.

'Here we go,' she says and spreads the plans on the table. 'Where's the entrance from the sewer?'

You lean over the plans and take a good look. Finally, you point with your finger.

'Here,' you say. Anastasia and Kirigan look at it.

'Okay, and here we have the door,' Anastasia says, tracing the path with her finger. 'Hm, not ideal. I know there's always at least one person in the room opposite. And the door is usually open.'

'There's an air ventilation in the basement,' you say and check where else it leads. 'Oh, and it can get us straight to the Grand Master's office!'

'And what about the way back?' Kirigan asks, crossing his arms. 'Do you expect us to go the same way?'

'How would you like us to leave?' you scoff. 'By the front door or maybe a window?'

'I'm just saying that this air ventilation is old,' Kirigan says. 'We're going to be heard for sure. And if they hear us coming up there twice, they're bound to feel suspicious.'

You narrow your eyes at him. He crosses his arms.

'Your existence gives me a headache,' you say and point a corner in the room. 'Go stand over there.'

Anastasia fights back an amused smile. Kirigan scoffs. You glare at him. Anastasia clears her throat and you two stop your antics. You finish deciding on a plan with your cousin stopping you and Kirigan from bantering. Kirigan writes a note to his Grisha explaining his whereabouts and you set off to commit a heist at once. After all, there's no time to lose.

'This is disgusting,' Anastasia says and shivers. 'And I'm killing people!'

'Shh!' you hush her. 'We're close. We don't want anyone to hear us.'

For the last ten minutes you three have been walking through the sewer. Like Anastasia said, it is not pleasant. You are sure the smell is going to stay with you forever.

'Maybe it would be easier?' Anastasia asks. 'Kirigan and I would just kill them all and we could grab what we need in peace.'

'No,' you say sternly. 'We don't want to leave traces, remember?'

'No fun,' Anastasia says. Suddenly, Kirigan, who's insisted on leading, stops.

'This is it,' he says. You all look up and see your way out.

'How about I'll check the situation first?' Anastasia asks. 'If someone's there-'

'You will knock them out,' you interrupt her. She pouts and jumps to lower the ladder that's attached to the exit from the sewer.

'See you in a moment,' she says and winks at you. She climbs up, opens the hatch and climbs out. You and Kirigan wait in silence, avoiding looking at each other. A minute or so later your cousin's head shows up in the hatch. She frowns at you two.

'You two are so boring together,' she says. 'Anyway, there's a problem.'

'Of course, there is,' Kirigan sighs. 'What is it?'

'Wellll… this shaft is very, very old,' Anastasia says. 'And rusty. Three people there at the same time? Nope. Not going to work. One of us has to stay.'

'Well, you obviously have to go, Ana,' you sigh. 'You're the only one who knows what to look for.'

'And you have to go since you're the only one who can crack that safe in a save way,' Anastasia says and grins. 'Safe save. Hihi.'

You roll your eyes. You turn to Kirigan.

'Wait here and we'll send directions when it's safe,' you say. Kirigan raises his eyebrows.

'You want me to wait in a sewer?' he asks with disbelief.

'Well, you can't wait in the basement,' Anastasia says. 'There's no place to hide and someone can come in at any moment.'

Kirigan grits his teeth, clearly not happy with the situation. You shrug and climb up. Kirigan suddenly grabs your leg. You look at him.

'Just do what you're supposed to and come back here,' he says. You roll your eyes and say nothing to that. You finish climbing up and get out from the sewer. You and Anastasia close the hatch and head to the air ventilation.

'Yeah, you were right,' you say once you're inside. 'I'm scared with the two of us it's going to collapse.'

'Let's just crawl fast but carefully,' Anastasia says. You agree silently and crawl forward. Finally, you reach your destination. Your cousin carefully opens the vent and looks inside the room.

'Clear,' she whispers and jumps down. You follow her and soon you're both inside the room. You blink, seeing the state of it. There's a lot of clothes here. Discarded, laying everywhere.

'I… don't even want to know,' you say. Anastasia ignores the clothes and walks to a bookcase. She takes out one book and a secret room opens. She winks at you.

'Open sesame,' she says. 'The safe is behind the portrait.'

You enter the secret room and see a desk and above it a picture, some sort of landscape. You go to it and take it off the wall. And there is the safe. You crack your knuckles and start cracking it. Anastasia stays in the main room, ready to alert you if someone's coming. While doing that, she's also checking out the clothes.

'Oh my gosh, that would look so cute on you!' she says at some point, showing in the door with a dress in her hands.

'I'm trying to crack a safe,' you say. 'Be quiet.'

'Fine,' your cousin says and pouts. She turns and puts the dress away. Then, suddenly the door bang open and a few men walk inside. Anastasia freezes.

'Um… we have company,' she calls. You curse under your breath. Just when you cracked the safe. Before you can decide to risk it and open it, two men walk into the secret room. They grab you and force your arms behind. The Grand Master stands in the door.

'Miss [Y/N] [L/N],' he says and shakes his head. 'The woman my men could not kill.'

'Oh, don't blame them,' you say. 'They did their best to try to kill me.'

The Grand Master snorts. Your cousin shows up behind him. She's also held by two men.

'I don't doubt it,' the GM says. 'Now, where is General Kirigan?'

'Who?' you ask. 'I mean, I know who he is, but why should I know where he is?'

'Don't play dumb, missy,' the GM says. 'I know he helped you this morning. You two are working together, that I know, too. So? Where is he?'

'Ah, so you were hired to kill me because of my work with General Kirigan?' you guess and smile. 'How kind of you to tell me. Please, share more with me.'

The GM is not happy he slipped. You notice your cousin staring at him intensely.

'Don't,' you say to her, confusing the GM.

'Don't what?' she asks.

'Don't kill him,' you answer.

'I wasn't gonna kill him,' Anastasia denies. 'I was just thinking about ways to kill him.'

'And?'

'And I came up with at least 478 methods. You know, just in case.'

The GM raises his eyes to the ceiling. You want to do that, too.

'Please, take Miss Anastasia to the waiting room,' the GM says. 'She violated our agreement but she's still one of us. I'll deal with her cousin. Ah, and check the sewers. Something tells me that's where we'll find the Darkling.'

Your face is a complete mask. You don't want to let them know that's where Kirigan indeed is. Instead, you focus your eyes on Anastasia and watch her being led out. The GM walks to you. He looks you up and down.

'You really are trouble,' he says. You smile innocently at him.

'I don't suppose you could tell me who wants me dead?' you ask. The GM chuckles.

'No chance, sweetheart,' he says. Your face falls. You give him a cold look.

'Don't call me that,' you say.

'Don't worry, in a moment I'll be calling you "the dead body",' the GM says. 'Now, I don't really want to get involved with your family, but the money promised for you are just too good. Sorry. I really have to kill you now.'

'I'm afraid I can't let that happen, as I still need her,' a voice from behind him says. The GM whirls around, only to be knocked into the wall by wind. At the same time the men holding you drop on their knees, grunting in pain.

In the door stands Kirigan with three people by his side. Two men wearing keftas of the Heartrenders and one woman wearing a kefta of the Squallers. The three of them manage to knock out your aggressors. You, however, look at Kirigan.

'Oh, you're still alive,' you say a bit sadly.

'Don't sound so disappointed,' Kirigan says. 'I might think you don't like me.'

'Now that's just ridiculous,' you say. 'I see you got out of the sewers and brought friends.'

'Angry that I didn't listen to you?' Kirigan asks, challenging you. You smirk.

'I expected you not to listen and bring back up,' you answer. Kirigan's face falls. You wink at him and turn to his companions.

'Hello, it's nice to meet you,' you say. 'My name is [Y/N]. I can't wait to work with you.'

'And you didn't want to tell me your name,' Kirigan says, frowning.

'Hush, don't be jealous,' you shush him. One of the man fights with his smile.

'Fedyor,' he introduces himself. 'And these are Ivan and Zoya. We can't wait to work with you as well.'

'Speak for yourself,' Zoya says flatly.

'Exactly,' Ivan adds. You just send them your charming smile.

'We have to go,' Kirigan says. You turn back to the safe.

'Not without what we came for,' you say and open the safe.

'We don't have time to look for it,' Zoya says, annoyed.

'We still have to find your cousin and get out,' Fedyor adds. You just grab all papers from the safe and turn back to them.

'Who said anything about looking?' you say and march to the door. 'He shouldn't have tried to kill me. Then, I wouldn't take all of them.'

'Fair enough,' Kirigan sighs and you all leave the secret room and then the office. No point in being subtle now.

'We saw them taking Anastasia this way,' Kirigan says and starts walking. He turns the corner and stops dead in his tracks. You follow him and soon you do the same.

'Hi!' Anastasia, covered in blood, says cheerfully. 'Oh, new friends?'

Around her are the men that took her away and a few more. All with their eyes open and empty. And blood on their chest.

'How could you kill them?' you ask, astonished.

'It was simple, really,' she answers. 'I can demonstrate for you if you'd like, though I do find it quite concerning that you don't know how to shoot a gun.'

'Anastasia!' you scold her. 'We weren't supposed to leave dead bodies behind!'

'Then they shouldn't have tried to kill you,' Anastasia says sternly. 'Now, let's get out of here.'

'But the consequences-'

'There will be none. Everyone knows what happens if you attack a [L/N]. They won't come after you again.'

You glare at her but shut up. Anastasia turns around and simply walks away. After a moment you and others follow her. To be honest, you can't wait to leave this place.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts! Reblog, like and comment if you could.

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47256868/chapters/119182540

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magicxc · 1 year ago

Text

Hills and Valleys

Synopsis: Legend has it that Halloween is strictly for the scares. With ghouls and goblins, vampires and werewolves, witches and broomsticks, who could disagree?

However, all this friend group wanted was a little trick or treat. Sprinkle in a few party favors, loud music and a cabin in the woods, the myth was bound to come true.

Lurking around the corner is danger like never before, eager to bring this night to a bloody finish.

So join these friends as they fight to make it through a Hallween they’ll never forget.

Word Count: 2728

Warnings: realisation?

Chapter 5 - Lynnley’s POV

Series Masterlist

Stumbling through the blood my knees feel like they're about to give out. I have to physically swallow the vomit that creeps up, pushing through my discomfort for Steph.

Plunking down beside Lenny, I watch in horror the scene that meets me, screaming for answers he refuses to give.

“What the hell is going on Lenny, how did this happen?”

“I don’t fucking know Lynn, for goodness sake make yourself useful.”

“Both of you shut up,” Jason barks. “Dude tell me you got enough service to get us some hel- to get Steph some help.”

The quietness that bounces amidst the still air is deafening and my head starts spinning a mile a minute. There’s no way this is happening to us. Did the killer make their way inside the house? Did Lenny see who did this? But mostly importantly what do we do now?

Leaning over Steph, I beg her to tell me something, anything about how she got in this predicament.

“Stephanie, blink twice if you can hear me babe, please just hang in there for a little while longer. Can you do that for me? For us?” I pleaded. “You know you were always the resilient one of the group, can you please stay strong for a few more minutes? STEPHANIE, we need you,” I sobbed. “Just this once can you do what I ask? Do you always have to be this stubborn?

I so badly want to shake her awake. The slow fluttering of her eyelashes and the small smile that curves at the corner at her lips makes me want to slap her silly.

“Steph, don’t smile like that,” I begged. “Because you know as well as I do that you’re gonna make it out of here. You have to!”

Snot trickles down my nose as the tears race to my cheeks. I can't help the wail that escapes me as I watch Lenny’s hold tighten and his slow rock quicken.

Looking at Steph I notice that her skin seems paler and her eyes are sunken. Her lips are a cold tint of blue while the last bit of blood gradually oozes from the deep gash in her neck. And the smell - its pungency so heavy in the air that I dry heave uncontrollably. It’s an iron metallic type scent, much like if you were to sniff a paperclip. But however simple, I fear it's a scent forever etched into my brain, pulling me back to this exact horrific moment should I ever smell it again.

Eyes tightly squeezed shut, it does nothing against the onslaught of tears, the lump in my throat borderline painful as it swells in discomfort.

Hands clutching my chest, they do very little to ease the thumping of my heart. It feels like my body is caving in on itself, crushed by the literal weight of gravity and this fucked up night. Breathing seems all too distant and my attempts feel pointless. The only thing my body can manage is a desperate scream that tears through my throat once more.

I feel the room start to spin and clutch the bathroom sink for support to high tail it out of there. Bloody prints are the stamp I leave behind, stomach churning at what looks like a crime scene. Eyeing my knees, they’re drenched in the red liquid and I want so badly to crawl out of my skin. A glance into the mirror makes my belly do a backflip - splattered spots of blood lining my face, hair disheveled and damp and limbs that wont stop trembling; much like an addict waiting for their next fix.

Staggering into the hallway, Jason scoops me in his arms where I let out the last bit of tears my body has to offer. Hands firmly wrapped around my waist, he gently sways us, softly whispering words I can't comprehend.

After some time where all my body has to give is light hiccups and a throbbing headache I pull away, muddled and dazed.

Scanning the room I see that Em’s still boxed into the corner of the wall, Steph’s still cradled in Lenny’s arms, and Jason looks as if he’s seen ten ghosts. This night has gone on long enough and it’s about time we get some answers and get the hell out of here.

“Lorenzo, for the love of chips what happened here?”

“Your guess is as good as mine Lynn, take a good fucking look around and stop being stupid for once in your life,” he answered. “I swear you ask the dumbest questions.”

“C’mon Lenny,” Em pipes up. “It’s no need to get nasty, I'm sure you can understand we’re all a bit frazzled here.”

“Well go frazzle us a way outta here cause all you’ve done so far is lost your shit.”

“Guys, I can’t be expected to be the voice of reason the ENTIRE night, please get a grip all of you,” Jason sighs.

“Just who the fuck do you think you are?” I fumed. “You think just because you had us look into a bunch of rooms, you’re the most level headed?”

Pacing the hallways, I open and slam shut every door in my path; screaming out obscenities and frustrations alike. Stomping my heart out, I barge into the coat room and fling about hangers, clothes, and whatever else found itself into my clutches.

“Oh looky here Mr. Seargant sir, I found all these goodies for ya, do yous think yous could help us out the house now?” I mocked.

“Lynn-“

“Six years in service and all you’ve accomplished is learning how to get maced in the face. Maybe if I put a gun in your hand that’d speed things along huh?

“I know even you aren’t THAT dense,” he snarled.

“Yo, chill!” Em shouts.

“And what if I am? Tell me just what the fuck you plan to do about it,” I egg on.

“Bodies of our friends are littered around the property,” Lenny sniffled. “How on earth do you guys find it in you to be angry?”

“HOW ARE YOU NOT? Someone is actively slaughtering us and that doesn’t piss you off even a little?” Emery barks.

“It scares me.”

“Well what scares me even more is that you haven’t said jack shit about what happened here,” she retorts.

“What do you all want me to say? I found Steph this way! The real question is where were all of YOU when this happened?”

“You guys are hopeless, good fucking luck,” Jason spits over his shoulder as he tramples his way to the front of the house.

“Your choice in men never ceases to amaze me,” Em snides.

“Fuck the both of you.”

Gently laying Steph down, Lenny places a soft kiss to her forehead and exits the bathroom, making sure to close the door behind him.

“Guys, who else is in this house besides us?” Lenny questioned. “I mean did y’all hear or see anything that looks like someone may have broken in?”

“Not that I heard off, I was too busy rummaging. But if someone did find their way in the house, they would have had to make their way past Lynn or Jason.”

“I think I would’ve noticed if someone barged through the front door since my face has been glued to the damn deadlock.”

And they say I ask the stupidest questions, pfft. Albeit school wasn’t my strong suit but I could definitely put two and two together. And by the sound of it, it seems like they think the killer is-

Ohhhhh my gosh. Eyes bulging out the sockets, I drag my hands down my face, surely smudging whatever makeup is left of it.Turning to the both of them I breathlessly try to deduce the situation at hand but all that comes out is stuttering blabber; their encouraging head nods urging me to continue, but to no avail. Stopping entirely and back now stiffened, I blew out a few deep breaths, making sure to inhale slowly to really gather my thoughts as insane as they sound.

“Lenny, are you seriously suggesting that the killer stayed behind after the party and is hiding in the house with us?”

“Lynn,” Em groaned. “I think what he’s saying is that one of US is the killer.”

“What-“

“LYNN, think about it,” he whisper shouted. “This is a two bedroom, two story townhouse with no attic or basement. With the five of us searching the rooms and no one breaking inside the unit, that doesn’t really leave enough space to hide now does it?”

“Go on,” I urged.

“Soooo, whoever got to Steph must’ve slipped away from their post while we were all distracted,” Em finished.

“Well it wasn’t me,” I blurted.

Could it really be? Is it possible that one of us is behind this? No, not even! I refuse to consider that. I’ll tear this place apart until I find that son of a bitch. I don't know where or how but I bet they’re burrowed into some cowardice hiding spot like the pussy they are.

Heat pooling in my face and hands squeezed into fists, I ready myself to march in the direction of the rooms, eager to strip it piece by piece, only to be pulled back by Lenny with a firm grip on my forearm.

“No one’s back there,” he reminded. “I think the best thing we can do right about now is wait it out. My parents will be here first thing tomorrow morning, key in hand.”

“Yeah I’m with Lenny, enough of this splitting up shit. Speaking of splitting, where’s your sketchy boy toy?”

“I’m real close to punching you in the face right about now.”

“Enough both of you, let's go,” Lenny growled, dragging us into the foyer.

We meet Jason there who’s at this point trying to pick the lock himself, his hands jittery as opposed to the steady ones I’ve come to know and feel - he’s clearly unnerved. I mean, who wouldn’t be in this situation? And Lenny seriously thinks the killer is one of us? For goodness sake we’ve been trying to tear down this door since forever now. Would the killer really look for a way out of here?

We get Jasons attention and go over the plan, which is about the only solid thing going for us right now. The idea is that one of us has done the deed, when really I think we should give the house another run through. If the person responsible for all of this truly stands in this room then if they try something, we can all attack at once. I’m no super soldier but even I can admit that three on one are pretty good odds. And since Lenny’s parents are set to come here first thing in the morning for one final walk through of the house, we can call the police and let them finish the job.

“So we’re all supposed to be sitting ducks for the killer?” Jason fumed. “Reallll solid Lenny, lets just all gather around and make it easy for em huh?”

“And what about peeing? Are we all expected to go to the bathroom together?” Em questioned.

“Who could stomach such a scene,” I muttered. “I think I’d be better off pissing myself.”

“All this rides on the fact that the killer is working alone anyway am I right? Suddenly two on two doesn’t seem like such a slam dunk after all huh?”

“Just a minute ago we could barely keep our eyes open, are we really expected to sit here fully awake for a few more hours?”

ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU’RE GENUINELY ABLE TO CLOSE YOUR EYES AT A TIME LIKE THIS?”

“All I’m saying is that we should take turns keeping watch.”

“And what happens when it's the killer's turn? Fucking dumbass.”

Firmly rubbing my fingers into my temple it does very little to ease the ache, their constant arguing hurling me closer toward the edge. Albeit, those were all good questions asked, but silly me for thinking that this would be smooth sailing.

Chuckling to myself, I slap my hand over my mouth before it turns into full fledged laughter. Smooth sailing? What the heck am I even talking about. I’m basically living with Em because she thinks she “cheated death.” We’ve found Julez belly up in the lake. Steph is bleeding out on the bathroom floor. Lenny is the closest thing we have to a responsible adult right now. And I’m pretty sure my relationship with Jason is just about finished after tonight. Not to mention all of this has happened in the span of a few hours. Doubling over, tears stream down my face in tandem - ohh boy, nothing about tonight, shit the rest of my life really will be smooth sailing moving forward.

Eventually their bickering dies down and each person settles into their respective corner of the front room. A stare down ensues, with tension thick enough for me to reach out and grab it. Nothing in my life could have prepared me for the day I’d have to look my friends in the face and wonder if they were capable of committing such crimes.

Some time later, Jason breaks the deafening silence, interrogating Lenny on exactly what he was doing before he found Steph, accusations heavy in the question.

“Jason this is what we’re not gonna do,” Em lectured. “Let's just focus on staying alive long enough to get out of this house before we start throwing suspicions on each other.”

“The fact of the matter is he and Julez weren’t exactly on the best of terms and from what sugars told me, he couldn’t quite finagle his way into Stephs heart the same way he could her pants.”

“Dude! I swear I love your inquisitive nature but NOT at a time like this,” I pleaded.

“All I’m saying is everyone who's had an issue with Lorenzo has somehow ended up dead tonight so I suggest we all stay on his good side.”

“Bro, I'm not even gonna argue with you. Just know, once we get outside that’s your ass.”

“What’s with the scrutiny all of a sudden?” Em challenged. “You know I could say the same for you Jason, the same for all of us really; cause where was anyone when our friends were fighting for their lives?” she sniffled. “All we have to do is sit here til sunrise and we can’t even do that.”

As awkward as it was, I actually prefer the quiet. If it means that a screaming match breaks out every time someone speaks, then I’m happy just sitting here.

But then again, left with nothing but my thoughts scares me even more. I haven't heard so much as a floorboard creak since we’ve been down here. Could it really be that no one else is in this house and one of us is truly guilty? I can’t imagine sitting here til sunrise with thoughts like that bouncing around my cranium. I need answers and I need them now.

“So, you’re telling me that you guys actually did that to people. Isn’t that like, illegal?”

“Only if someone were to find out,” he answered. “Besides they were bad guys.”

“Yes but Jason, that’s literally inhumane, how could you even stomach that?”

“When you have people that you care about and motherfuckers who threaten their safety and that of the country, suddenly your tolerance level drops a whole lot lower.”

“I see,” I faltered. “Did it at least help? Did you all ever get the answers that you needed?”

“Most times.”

“Most times?”

“Hey, it worked about 90% of the time and last I checked, that’s still an A.”

“Sure but even today I’m sure there are more tactical ways to get people talking, that’s just pure torture,” I cried.

“That’s the point sugar, it’s a form of torture, used as an interrogation technique. And it’s because of people like me, that you can sleep soundly at night.”

Though I understood where Jason stood on the matter, I never agreed to the ways they got people talking; until now. Eyes darting around the room, suddenly waterboarding seemed plausible.

It’s not a matter of threatening safety because that line has been crossed, now is a matter of surviving; and I’ll be damned if I don't.

#Emmy Writes #Emmy Tries #SpookySzn #Halloween Kills #Halloween Series #Halloween #Hills and Valleys #Original Story and Characters #Horror #uhmm wow #this is heavy #tha crew is WILDING

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the-mad-closet · 1 year ago

Note

NSFT Prompt list

Oh no, I have so many-

ZIGGY (+Dillon/and Summer?) <3

4, 9, 25, 30, 32, 39, 54

I know that's so much, there's so many good ones!

Of course with Dillon and Summer! Wouldn't dare to break up the trio! (/hj) Gotchu dude!

4 - Against a wall/tree, 9 - Mommy/Daddy kink, 25 - Public play, 30 - Begging, 32 - Double penetration, 39 - Intoxication/drugged, 54 - Obsessive/Possessive sex

4 - Against a wall/tree

The bark is rough against her back, Summer's sure to have scratches in the morning, but that's okay. She'll get Dillon back some how, she's sure. "Harder," she demands of the man fucking her, taking fistfuls of his jacket in hand.

Dillon smirks, leans more of her weight onto the tree, and complies, shoving in and out of her body at a faster pace.

She moans, content with the bite of bark into her shoulder blades. "Mm, yeah, just like that."

Dillon chuckles. Summer can't help but think of their other boyfriend tucked safe and sound in their bed at the Garage. Ziggy's gonna be sorry he missed out.

9 - Mommy/Daddy kink

"Mommy," Ziggy pleads, a whine on the tip of his tongue. "Please," he begs, wiggling his hips.

There's a thwack, the crack of a hand on bare skin. Ziggy yelps, stills, and Dillon says, "No moving."

Summer giggles. The white of Dillon's handprint blooms red. Summer would be worried, but Ziggy hasn't called the safeword.

"Yes, Daddy," Ziggy moans.

Dillon freezes, raises an eyebrow, then a smirk crawls across his face. The hand the was previously on Ziggy’s shoulder sneaks around to Ranger Green's throat. "What's that, babe?" Dillon asks.

Ziggy gasps, the pressure increasing. Summer watches them, chin her her hand as she teases Ziggy’s cock. A helpless, desperate whine lifts from Ziggy’s chest, catching ever so slightly in his throat. His voice takes on a breathless quality. "Daddy," he repeats.

Dillon smirks wider. "Don't you forget it, baby boy."

25 - Public play

"I really don't know about this, it doesn't seem safe and what about kids? They could just walk up at any moment and-"

Dillon grabs Ziggy by the throat and slams him against the wall. He leans in really close, lips brushing Ziggy’s ear, and murmurs, "Be a good boy, Ziggy."

Ziggy, ever the good boy when he's being manhandled, nods frantically. Dillon can feel his cock suddenly press against the knee Dillon has shoved between Ziggy's legs. Dillon grunts. He whispers, "Fuck yourself on my thigh."

Ziggy whimpers, eyes darting to entrance of the alleyway they're tucked away in. Dillon squeezes his throat to get his attention. "Pay attention, pet," he says. "It's just you and me. We're not even taking off our clothes."

Ziggy whimpers again, eyes squeezing shut. For a second, Dillon thinks that he might call the safeword, but then he tentatively starts to grind his hips into Dillon's thigh, a breathless whine bitten back behind his teeth.

Dillon chuckles lowly. "You think this is bad, just wait until Summer tries it out. She's always got the best ideas for sex, doesn't she, babe?"

Ziggy nods, looking hazy already. Dillon laughs again. "Good boy."

30 - Begging

"You want it?" Summer asks, leaning up to settle on her haunches. "Hmm?"

The ring on Ziggy's cock has been there for a few hours, preventing him from cumming. Ziggy's cock is a shiny purple color, it looks painful, but Summer won't quit now.

"Yes," Ziggy sobs. There are tear tracks on his face where his frustration got the better of him. He looks wrecked. He looks beautiful.

Summer smiles, exchanging glances with Dillon over her shoulder. He's already inside Ziggy, gently thrusting in time with Summer's light touches on Ziggy's heated skin. She hums, lightly. "Beg," she commands. "Beg for it, baby."

"Please," Ziggy asks immediately. "Please, I'll do anything."

"Anything?" Dillon repeats curiously. "Anything?"

"Anything!" Ziggy begs, more tears slipping down his cheeks. No matter how bratty he is, he's always the perfect little slut when it comes right down to it. "Anything," Ziggy repeats. "Please. Please, please, please! I need it," he begs. "I'm so close, please."

Summer clicks her tongue sympathetically. "Aww," she coos. "Such a good painslut," she says. "Be a good boy." She straddles his waist, throwing one leg over his hip and settling over his twitching cock. He whimpers when she rubs her pussy over him. It's the most adorable sound. "Be a good boy," she repeats. "Get me off first."

32 - Double penetration

Summer doesn't typically like this, but it's Ziggy's reward and Summer likes to push herself. She moans as Dillon's cock drags along her inner walls. "Yeah," she gasps. Dillon snaps his hips up and hits that special spot again. "Oh, yeah," she moans.

Ziggy is behind her practically vibrating with need. He's waiting patiently for her to say yes, waiting patiently for Summer's say-so. Summer lets Dillon get in a few more thrusts, then reaches down to stretch herself open some more. "Mm," she grunts, flexing her hips.

When she's deemed herself thoroughly stretched once more, she reaches behind her and grabs Ziggy's wrist. "Be gentle, good boy," she says.

Ziggy nods, babbling promises that he'll be good, the best boy she's ever seen. She bites back the words that confirm to him that he already is. Gently, Ziggy presses his cock in next to Dillon's inch by burning inch. Summer moans, already pushed over the edge. "Good boy," she gasps for Ziggy's benefit as he rocks in and out.

Ziggy whimpers a little. Dillon makes a noise, sitting still until she says to move. Ziggy gets first dibs here. It's his reward for being so good and coming back from the fight alive, after all.

39 - Intoxication/drugged

Ziggy whines, shifting in Dillon's lap as Dillon bounces him up. "Shh," Dillon soothes, smoothing a hand down Ziggy's back. "I know," he says.

Ziggy had gotten doused with what is (according to Doctor K) Venjix's rudimentary attempt at an aphrodisiac. Given that the Rangers are well aware that Venjix has experimented with the human body, they didn't want to know what would happen if they left Ziggy to ride out the problem himself. Summer had been there with Dillon at first, but Ziggy had only wanted Dillon's cock and Summer only seemed to upset him. Dillon gently grabs Ziggy's hips, controlling the movement of his beloved boy.

"'M sorry," Ziggy gasps, a hitch in his breathing. He hides his face against Dillon's neck. "I'm sorry."

Dillon smiles, one hand moving back up to Ziggy's back. "I know," he says. "Just enjoy this, okay?"

Ziggy whimpers. Under normal circumstances, Dillon would be teasing Ziggy, but right now, they're one round three of the hour and Dillon's just worried about Ziggy being okay. Dillon flexes his grip on Ziggy's hip and moves his other hand to Ranger Green's jaw. He drags Ziggy into a deep, bruising kiss. "You're my good boy," he says delicately when Ziggy needs to pull back to breathe.

Ziggy whines again. Dillon hums, then he strengthens his grip on Ziggy's hips, rears back and thrusts up. Ziggy yelps, grinding down with a moan. Dillon smiles, knowing his job is pleasurable for both of them.

54 - Obsessive/Possessive sex

Summer stuffs her hand down Ziggy's pants in the bathroom. "You like her more than me?" she demands, curling her fingers around Ziggy's cock and twisting her wrist on the upstroke.

Ziggy moans, head thinking back against the mirror. "No," he says, voice trembling already.

Summer smirks, cruelly. "Why're you letting her touch you then, huh?" she asks. She lifts her other hand, grips his jaw and makes him look her in the eyes, nails biting into his skin. "You like her more than me?" she asks again.

Ziggy's eyes roll back in his eyes, squeezing shut as she pressing one fingertip to his perineum, scratching lightly at the sensitive skin there as she rubs her thumb over the slit of his cock, spreading precum over the head. "No," he whimpers, and: "Please."

Summer smiles again. "Say it," she says.

Ziggy whines, long and low. "Please," he begs again.

Summer raises an eyebrow, beginning to take her hands away. "You know the rules," she states.

Ziggy makes a desperate noise, eyes flying open. "No!" he shouts, biting back the noises threatening to come out of his mouth. "No, please!"

Summer meets his eyes, pauses, and waits. Ziggy pants, open mouthed. His eyes are dilated to the size of his irises. Ziggy swallows, then says, "I belong to you." He whimpers, then adds, "M-Mommy."

Summer reaches back in, grips Ziggy's cock once more, and starts stroking in earnest. Ziggy's moan catches in his chest. "Oh," he breathes, panting heavily with every moan. "Please," he begs. "Mommy, please."

Summer smiles. "You're wearing it out of here if you come now," she warns him.

"Please," Ziggy begs with a fervent nod. "Please, please, please!"

Summer smirks, lunges forward, captures Ziggy's lips in a kiss, then pulls back and whispers, "Cum for me." She kisses him again as his cock twitches and spills itself all over her hand. He whimpers as she shovers her tongue into his mouth and takes what she wants from him. "Good boy," she whispers when she pulls back.

Ziggy's smile is a little wobbly, but genuine all the same.

Thank you! @estel-eruantien

#power rangers #power ranger rpm #ask #mutuals #estel eruantien #thanks estel!#mad writes #nsft #prompt list #smut prompt #smut ask #summer landsdown #ziggy grover #dillon #power rangers dillon #ziggy grover/dillon/summer landsdown #dom/sub

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vivasity · 1 year ago

Text

To Love Another - Kassidas

Chapter 1 | 2 | Ao3

Source: Assassin's Creed Odyssey

Pairing: Kassandra/Brasidas

Chapter Warnings/Tags: piv sex, be better than this use protection don't risk sand getting in places it shouldn't be, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, they're still on a beach, anyway final warning here's the porn

Word Count: 2.5k

Chapter 2 - Playing in the Sand

Rating: Explicit (18+!!)

"Always, Brasidas." Kassandra murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple. She held him close, letting herself melt against him. He continued to press gentle kisses against her neck, and it reignited the fires low in her belly, pleasant tingles running up her spine.

After a brief pause, the older man gently pressed his teeth into her shoulder at the base of her neck, and she canted her hips down in response, a huff of air rushing out from her lips now parted in surprise. Brasidas muffled a groan against her neck, feeling the heat of her through her smallclothes. He was almost painfully hard himself, the last thing he wanted was to scare her off by coming on too strong, but by now she had to notice. The idea of her enjoying this as much as he was sent a thrill down his spine, and his cock twitched against her. She gasped, breath hot and heavy next to his ear and he had to fight the impulse to immediately strip her of her armour.

Kassandra leaned back just enough that she could capture his lips in a hungry kiss, impatient now that she knew what he wanted. To say that she wanted to have sex with him felt like an understatement, she wanted him completely and it nearly terrified her. She had more pressing concerns, however, like the delicious feeling of his cock against her core. Were it not for the thick linen she wore beneath her leather armour she would easily be ruining his chiton. His hands on her hips spurred her further, gently encouraging her to move her hips against his own.

Their tongues passed over one another, a sensuous slide that left Kassandra lightheaded, and she fumbled with the straps on his armour without breaking the kiss. When he smiled against her lips, lifting his hands to assist, she practically growled. Finally breaking the kiss the man stifled a laugh, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Please, let me help. It'll be easier." Brasidas offered gently, and Kassandra couldn't hide the pout that followed. She removed the straps of her own armour, grateful it was two individual pieces instead of one. Sliding the armour away from her torso, she was left with only her strophic covering her chest. As Brasidas removed his breastplate and let it drop with a heavy thud into the sand behind them, left only with his tassets and chiton. Kassandra stood, her gaze still locked onto Brasidas as she removed her own tassets, the modified chiton falling away just as easily in a puddle of scarlet linen at her feet. He watched her with hunger in his eyes, watching as her lithe body was revealed to him. He hastened, undoing the ties that held his tassets together. The chiton beneath was easy enough, and he barked out a laugh when Kassandra lightly smacked away the hand that had begun to remove the pin. Dropping effortlessly to her knees to straddle him again, and as his chiton pooled around his hips he tensed slightly as her hands found their way to his chest.

Years as a soldier did amazing things for his physical condition, and he was proud to have this goddess of a woman marvelling at his body as if he was not mesmerized by her own. He ran his hands along her thighs, feeling each muscle tense in response. Tracing his fingertips along the edge of her perizoma, he delighted in the goosebumps it raised on her skin, the shuddering breath she took in as she splayed her hands over his abdomen. She dragged her nails along her skin until her fingertips brushed over his length through the linen that felt far too heavy and he stuttered out a plea, the words dying on his lips when her hand wrapped firmly around him through the fabric.

"The great Brasidas of Sparta does not disappoint." Kassandra teased, tugging the fabric down slowly to reveal all of him, her eyes glued to every inch of him - painstakingly revealed as she dragged the fabric away, tossing it to the sand with the rest. Her lower lip caught itself between her teeth, eyeing him hungrily as his cock jumped at the attention. She raised her hands, removing her own smallclothes slowly, her gaze locked onto Brasidas as he watched her.

"By the Gods Kassandra," He murmured, awestruck, "you are perfect." He finished as the linen fell away from her chest and finally her hips, exposing all of her to him. Bathed in dawn's light, she looked carved from stone. Sharp muscles and strong lines give way to the soft fullness of her breasts, the planes of her stomach ending in the neat brown curls at the apex of her thighs. Brasidas was mesmerized, feeling his cock pulse with need in time with his heartbeat, heat pooling low in his stomach. Reaching towards her, he brought his mouth to her chest, taking her nipple into his mouth and lavishing it with his tongue.

Her reaction was immediate, her hands coming up to cradle the back of his head as her back arched slightly. The breathy moan of his name spurring him on further to tease the neglected nipple with his fingertips. She ground herself against him and he moaned at how wet she already was for him, coating him in her slick. Kassandra groaned, her hips moving instinctively.

"I've waited too long for this Brasidas," she began, voice thick with want, "we can take our time later, I want you now." She was practically begging, and Brasidas was briefly stunned into silence. He separated himself with a slick pop and let his hands slide to her hips, guiding her movement as he let out a low groan.

"I don't want to hurt you, Kass," Brasidas murmured softly, and her heart swelled with affection, the nickname rolling off his tongue so easily. Grinning, she pressed her hands firmly into Brasidas' chest until he fell back into the sand.

"I'd like to see you try." She teased, leaning down to him to press her lips to his neck in open-mouthed kisses. The soldier shuddered under her, his cock twitching against her core. She missed his own answering grin, his arms sneaking around her thighs.

"If that's the way it's going," He conceded, before quickly leveraging Kassandra onto her back, her thighs held in his hands as he crowded close to her, cock nudging her entrance already making a mess on the inside of her thighs. Her mouth open in shock, Brasidas took the opportunity to begin nudging the head of his cock into her, eyes falling shut at the way she enveloped him, opening them again to lock onto her face as she moaned wantonly. He pressed forward slowly, fighting every urge to slam his hips against hers and keep her at his mercy. He continued like that until he bottomed out, finally, watching the misthios closely for any discomfort. When he slipped his hands from her thighs - one on the ground beside her, and the other a gentle weight on her lower stomach, holding her in place - her powerful legs wrapped around his middle, pulling him closer still.

"Please Brasidas," Kassandra whined, her nails scratching lightly over his chest. "I need you, all of you." Her eyes half-lidded with desire, Brasidas couldn't possibly deny her. He pulled out slowly, just leaving the tip of his cock nestled in her, before slamming his hips back down. The action choked a moan out of both of them, Brasidas was certainly above average, deliciously thick and Kassandra let her head fall back into the sand. "Fuck... you feel so good." She sighed, her hand coming up to fondle her own breast, gently teasing her nipple while he steadily fucked into her.

"By the Gods, Kassandra. You're so tight, why did we wait so long for this?" He groaned as his hips picked up a punishing rhythm, shifting his hand to her hips to pull himself flush against her with every thrust.

It was obscene, Kassandra giving punched-out little moans with every thrust, Brasidas practically growling as he pumped into her, the slick sounds of each thrust punctuated with every snap of his hips. It was messy and desperate and everything they both needed in the moment, and when the soldier pressed his fingertips to her clit, her back arched and she practically screamed his name in her orgasm. Her thighs tensing around his body, he fucked her through it, slowing just enough to keep her coasting without overstimulating her.

"Brasidas, please, ah-" She cut herself off with a moan and a breathy string of curses, her thoughts lost to the wind as the waves lapped at the shore a few feet away. He leaned down to her, kissing her fiercely, his tongue running along her own in a way that made his cock throb within her. Her cunt pulsed in response and it took more of his willpower than he would have liked to stop himself from spilling into her then and there. Her walls fluttered around him, driving him crazy as he forced himself to keep the pace steady.

"Brasidas," Kassandra pleaded, looking blissed out in a way Brasidas had only dreamed of. "Please, I need more. I want more of you." She begged softly, and his heart leapt in his chest. Never in his wildest dreams did he actually think his longing for the misthios was reciprocated, to have the most dangerous woman in the Greek world begging for him? It nearly made him swoon. Instead, he grinned and shifted further up the sand on his knees. He slipped his hands under her knees, pushing them up to her chest and effectively having her bent in half.

"Let's see how much you can take then, hm?" The man teased, and Kassandra barely had time to answer with a grin of her own before he set a brutal, unrelenting pace. Each thrust backed by his Spartan strength, hitting so much deeper at this new angle. Kassandra let her head fall back into the sand with a dull thud, reaching down to tease her clit as she fondled her own breast, lost in the pleasure. Brasidas relished in the opportunity to watch her in rapture, chasing his own impending release as her walls bore down on him ever tighter. Lost in the passion, Kassandra mumbled broken pleas and words of worship that would make even Zeus blush, and Brasidas found himself pressing his forehead to hers, snapping his hips against hers with every thrust.

Kassandra was close, and it felt different from before, the wave that was threatening to wash over her was so much bigger and more powerful. She practically begged for Brasidas to give her everything, how much of it made sense she had no idea. Completely lost in the throes of pleasure building within her. "Brasidas, I'm so close, please." She keened, becoming desperate. With others she usually took the role of being in charge, making the rules, setting the pace. It was wonderful to have someone else do it for of, to be taken care of so completely. The thought alone made her cunt pulse with want, tension pooling in her belly. His thrusts became erratic, his expression twisted in concentration as he began to falter.

"You have to come for me first, Kassandra." He gently commanded, voice soft and persuasive. That was all it took, her orgasm tearing through her like lightning. Her back arched, as much as it could with him still holding her legs to her chest, practically screaming his name and a litany of curses.

Seeing Kassandra come apart under him finally brought him over the edge, using what was left of his thought process to pull out and spill his release onto her stomach. He panted heavily, releasing the grip on her thighs which she gratefully let fall to the sand. They were both slick with sweat, holding each other gently while they took a moment to catch their breath. When Kassandra opened her eyes again, they were practically alight with satisfaction. She looked positively fucked out, Brasidas faring no better, smug satisfaction painted across his face.

Reaching behind the two of them, Brasidas grabbed his discarded himaton and used to gently wipe the mess from Kassandra and himself, the scratch of the linen on his oversensitive skin making him shiver. Looking back to the woman still laying on the sand, he smiled at the look in her eyes, pure adoration that he was sure was mirrored in his own gaze.

"That was easily the best sex I've had in my life." Kassandra said bluntly, breaking the silence between them. Brasidas laughed in response, gathering their discarded clothing and shaking the sand off gently. When he turned back Kassandra was already standing, gently plucking her smallclothes from his arms and slipping them back on again. He began the process of putting his own clothing on, comfortable in the silence as he adjusted the closures on his armour.

It was well into dawn when they were finished, both looking as though nothing had changed. Everything had changed though, and Brasidas didn't know what to do now. He wanted to stay with her, to keep her in Sparta or to follow her around the Greek world and beyond, but the words were stuck in his throat. He knew her, and he knew she never settled for long.

"Come with me, on the Adrestia." Kassandra interrupted suddenly, breaking his train of thought. Brasidas paused, stunned for a moment before he spoke.

"Seriously?" He asked, kicking himself already.

"I mean it!" She retorted, crossing her arms defensively. "I've missed you," she continued, her tone gentle as though she were shy. "I've denied what I feel for you for so long, I'm not ready to settle down in Sparta yet, but if you'd like you can sail with me. See the world with me, I have more journeys to take and I want to take them with you." She reasoned, and if he wasn't already in love with her that easily would have sealed his fate. Maybe the Gods do like him, at least a little bit. He smiled, taking a step closer and capturing her lips in a tender kiss, pouring all the affection he could in the gentle press of his lips to her own.

"I'd love to, Kassandra." He murmured against her lips, and she smiled into the next kiss, and the next.

They stayed like that for a while, exchanging tender kisses on a battlefield that changed their lives, until they left hand in hand towards the dock where the Adrestia waited for them both.

"So where are we going first?" Brasidas asked as the sails of the Adrestia came into view.

"I'm not sure, an old friend, Alethia, reached out to me recently, I think I have to help her." Kassandra mused, she had put off the trip for three days already before she got Brasida's message. Perhaps they could see what the Isu needed now, together.

"Alethia? You've made friends other than me?" Brasidas teased, gently nudging Kassandra with his shoulder.

"Oh trust me, there is a lot to catch you up on Brasidas. I'll tell you on the way." She promised, and Brasidas grinned next to her as they wove their way through the dock.

They had all the time in the world.

#my writing #to love another #kassidas #ac odyssey #kassandra #brasidas #assassins creed fanfiction #smut #hhhhhhhhh i still dont know how i feel about this but i may as well get it over with #im probably not taggin this right pls lmk

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disasterghaster-moved · 2 years ago

Text

Oscar Meyer has a first name.

I don’t bother to use the bench press anymore. The ghaster matter can move whatever weight it pleases–any weight I please. It’s not made of muscle fiber, tendons, and bone. It’s made of will and whatever it manages–what ever I manage–to put together.

I try not to think about it.

Instead, I focus on other parts of me. The parts still made of meat. Curls and squats and lunges and whatever else I can pressure myself into doing before the whole matter seems overwhelming when I feel constantly empty.

I manage a full set of excercises today. Something of an achievement. Usually I miss one or two sets. Or all of them.

I make it this time, though. Closing out on the specially designed treadmill. I don’t go as fast as I can. I’m not qualifying for the supernatural track and sprint or anything. I’m merely confident that I’m good at a full sustained run of 110 for twenty minutes before I start to sweat too much. Breathing too hard, too. An improper dismount jars my knees when I hop off to the side and come to such a sudden stop.

I end up sititng on the ground as the muscles in my legs burn. Maybe I really pushed it just then. Or I haven’t been drinking enough water. I rub my thumbs and palms along hamstring and calfs until they’re intermittently barking about the strain I put them through and my lungs no longer burn.

I take my time standing up and getting a towerl off the rail of the mil and due a little swipe of my face and back of my neck. Since I’m in the privacy of my gym in the expanded basement, I give the girls a quick dry off under my A-shirt.

Towel goes into a hamper when I pass it on my way back up the stairs to the main level of the house. By then, the juice the work-out soaks my brain with during fades out. The world goes back to feeling slightly sideways. Like everything is one of those crooked photo frames that never seems quite straight or level with the rest of the wall. Every day feels like that anymore.

I ignore the bit of jello feeling in my legs as I travel up the next flight to the second floor. Getting to my bedroom and ajoining bath before long. Something in my neck and shoulders droops as I pass into the sanctity of that space. It’s quiet there. Black out curtains are a bit ajar so the room is brighter than usual, but that’s alright. Cool fresh air breezes in through the open window and makes it feel less like a self-imposed tomb.

I leave the bathroom door open and flick the light on in there. It’s harsh in comparison to the rest of the lightning I keep in the house. I don’t always use it, usually just go by a nightlight plug into the socket next to the mirror and sink. But I need the light today. I want to cut my hair.

I got caught up looking at my reflection instead. I’m reminded of days where metal chafes at my throat and my wrists. I was thin then, too. With piano wire muscles strung tight along bones. I didn’t have so many lines on my face back then. Or much hair. Inky fingers, off black and almost gray, scratch through the couple inches growth on much of my damp scalp until they wander higher into much longer and darker hair at the top. Pulling tie out and tossing it into nearby basket that held the others I used.

That hair is long and reaches an inch or two past my shoulders. Tying it all the time makes it crimped in some places. I know it’s wavey even if it weren’t. I notice there’s more streaks of white there than there used to be, too. I already knew about the thick banded streaks above my ears in the shorter hair. I think the color seeps into other places due to stress more than age. Could be age. I don’t know how long someone like me is supposed to live if they make it to a ripe age.

About then, I remember to pull off the eye-patch. It doesn’t hide a dulled eye. They're the same anymore. Same matter my hands are with dots of ambiently glowing purple. It’s a comfort to wear the patch. Like a reminder of who I am. It helps me mentally control how much I see or don’t see. The world is so many layers of information if I don’t. Much of the time, it’s too much. I don’t need to see every little creature peaking through the mirror or what type of rock the nickle backing was refined out of. Takes a few seconds to tune it back out without the patch helping my psyche retain a muscle memory for it.

I pick comb out of a seperate basket and take to working knots out to one side of my head. Then the other. Then back so I can tie it up neatly again. A thick bristled boar brush and a bit of water, and touch of comb, helps me seperate the long and the short with great accuracy.

Then it’s time for clippers. I debate a few comb length attachments before, as usual, I decide to do it with a naked blade. It would grow back. Would also leave a fine centimeter of fuzz until it did. After fetching a black plastic trash bag I use for just such an ocassion from under the sink and lay it over the sink, I set to work. The buzz of the clippers is medatitave after a few moments of hair falling onto the plastic under my head. The buzz is comforting in my hand and against scalp. I have to switch hands at times and can feel the vibration in my fingers still.

I work it around the sides and back quickly with a few reruns to make sure it ends up all the same length. Feeling with fingers to ensure what I couldn’t see.

The fine work of lining the sides and back of the longer patch take the most time. Don’t want to fuck it up. I have some practice, though. It doesn’t take too long.

When it’s done, I keep over the plastic filmed sink and take boar brush to it just to work out as much of the smaller clippings as I can. Off my scalp and shoulders and back of my neck. Satisfied, clean the blade and oil it, then return it under the sink. Clippings are wrapped up and put in the nearby bin. It’s a bit wasteful, but it makes it so I don’t have to clean the sink. I can sweep the floor later.

Off peels my shirt and the sweatpants. Those go flying out into my room for now.

On comes the hot water in my shower. I wisely sit out the first cold minutes on the closed, chilled, lip of the toilet. Head in hand.

All of these things are a practice of not thinking too hard as I watch the water patter on the shower wall in silence. A practice in functioning when it’s the last thing I want to do with myself. There is nothing else I can do. Semi-retirment allows me much more idle time than I allowed myself before.

Into the shower I go. Closing curtain and taking a spin under water to rinse off loose hairs before having a seat on shower stool with back to the water. The heat soothes out my back nicely. It’s a while before I pull over toothbrush and paste.

Taking a shower is a whole ordeal when I’m not in a rush. Starts with teeth.

Takes a tough and big brush to handle my teeth the further back you go. Doesn’t hurt to be resilient against the roughtness of my tongue, either. I realize, with some dismay, that I’m out of orange toothpaste. Might have to suffer mint if I can’t find another supply. Bleck.

I don’t know if it helps to do this, but I leave the suds in my mouth while I wash my face with vigour and some good cleansing face wash. I do this with everything that suds. Just leave it for a bit while I do the rest. Hair, next with shampoo and one of those scalp massagers. Same with the soap, I use a loofah to suds up from neck to toe. Just feels like it does more if it’s not on for two seconds and gone the next.

Rinsing is the same pattern as sudsing.

And, yes, before anyone asks, I get the bits. I like to do that last and seperate. Those parts require getting up and spreading things out, alright. It’s work. I save it for last.

At some point, I remember my tail. After everything else. Almost bleatedly. It’s attached to me. I don’t know why I forget sometimes. Bit of shampoo for that does the trick.

Then the water comes off and I let water dip off me for a bit. While I squeeze the fur on the tail out several times. The fur there is dense and likes to hold onto water. Drying it takes time. I imagine my head would too if I had more than that little bit of hair. Of which I still take a moment to squeeze and ring, too.

By then I can step out without dripping everywhere onto a bath mat. And grap towel to dry off with. Special attention, again, to hair and tail. Then privates. No one likes to smell funky there. Towel is hung up and I leave the bathroom with a small bottle of oil for my hair and a comb.

Deaftly working light bit of pleasent lavander smelling oil into my hair with fingers and comb before it has a chance to dry. Both are discarded onto dresser afterward.

Then I flip face first into my bed. Naked and slightly damp. Energy gone. I’ve done abosolutely all the self-care I can. I don’t care that my stomach is growling or my throat is dry despite all that time, and maybe even more so, due to the shower.

Thoughts threaten to filter in. I refuse their entry as I pull a pillow to myself and tuck it under my head, shifting onto my side where I can curl with it. It doesn’t stop a few tears burning across my nose onto the pillow. I can’t stop them as skillfully as I used to. They often come too fast and hard for me to stop. Out of the blue or over some sappy ending to a movie I wasn’t even closely paying attention to or just emotional comercials. It’s very stupid and very annoying.

I’m so tired. Always.

Even when I wake up after the sun’s no longer falling through the bedroom window. Mn. Time lost.

I sit up and rub crust off my eyelashes for a while. Coughing a few times as I make it up to my feet and over to the window. Closing the curtains. Not worried about getting peeped my neighbors so much as just wanting to be alone.

I left a half-finished bottle of water by the absurdly large beanbag under the same window that I now pick up and finish in a couple of chugs. A brief crush and tightning of cap compacts it one empty. Making it easy to pitch into trash can near the door.

I don’t feel any better. The water tasted stale.

Somehow, I still drag on some clothing. Cotton sleep pants and loose fitted gray t-shirt that said ‘show me your kitties’ with a gray tabby peering over a flat horizontal line on it. I feel a pang of guilt as I think of Tiggs. They were with someone else, I knew I couldn’t take care of Tiggs like they needed right now. Still, I missed them.

Finally, I leave my room and go downstairs to the kitchen. None of the floorboards creak. I don’t need physical strength to remember how to walk like a ghost. Or open a cabinent silently. I stare at the box of cheerio’s for a while. I know I am hungry. I feel a bit sick and my lower stomach hurts. But it doens’t look appealing. The memory of it on my tongue recalls like grit and sawdust.

My shoulders slump with a huffed sigh. Leaning forhead into the cabinent door’s edge that I still hold open.

Maybe I should hire a chef. Trick my brain into just eating things put in front of me. I weakly ponder this for a moment until it’s dashed away. I can’t trust anyone to feed me that isn’t explicitly trustworthy to me. Hire a chef? Sure. Let an assassin right in. Great idea. If they don’t filet your throat, they’ll slip some sort of poison into a chicken dinner.

The corners of my eyes prick with fustration. I just want to eat.

I close the door with more of a thud than I normally would and go to the firdge. My eyes immediately end their scan by lingeirng on the bottle of whiskey down low on the door. I take it out and set it on the counter, then look back into the firdge.

God, fuck. Everything has to be cooked in some way. Same for shit in the fridge. Even hotpockets got to go in a mircowave. Back to looking in the fridge. There’s a package of balogne and a bottle of ketchup.

I take both out and get a paper plate and a red solo cup. All get tucked into hands and arms including the whiskey bottle before I make the walk out the back door.

It’s dark out, but I can see fine in the enclosed and screened off back patio. I tick the light on anyway and sit at the table there. Nudge a couple of electronics out of the way to the otherside of the small table. A pile of sleeping things, that is. Tablet, phone, bluetooth keyboard, and a e-reader. Space is replaced with plate and accouterments in short order.

Oscar Meyer bologna gets peeled out of packet and red wax ring. Sorted out in a four-by-two formation on plate and then their centers get a squirt of ketchup. I leave that a moment to pour half a cup of whiskey. There’s a plan here. A bad one, but it’s a plan.

I roll up a slice of ketchup filled bologna and take a bite. It’s fucking disgusting in that way in which desperate and depressive food is–but ultimately tastey enough to get addicted to. It’s salty and a bit sweet. And, anyway, there’s whiskey to mask the taste with when I swish down a mouthful.

This pattern quickly leads me to being able to eat the following slices in peace. Being drunk takes away most of my taste and leaves just the salty and the sweet. Two things alcoholic brains love. It’s less of a slog then. I eat slower due to groginess is all.

I don’t stop until the package of quesitonably labeled deli meat is empty. It’s better than nothing.

By then I’ve had three half cups of alcohol and my face feels close to numb. I’m sweaty and too warm. Thankful for the chilly breeze that comes through the screens from the outside.

I’m struck with the dreaded curse of actual thoughts. Thankfully, the ones that make it are sloshy and breakup on rocks before they fully form.

Still, every so often, they linger. None of them are good. My next breath is deep, but it shudders due to my lungs having shifted down into very shallow breaths to then. I toss plate ontop of the pile of devices and lay my head down on the cool glass of the table top.

The thoughts keep looping back on a common thread and theme which forms one repeating coheasive concept; I’m not good enough.

It’s not always that sentance. Today it is.

I admit that it’s a frequent one. One that rides off the back of my lack of self-worth. One that points out that I can’t think right or talk right or love right or cry right or–well, there’s so many things. All the things that matter when every bit of your worth is tied into keeping people ‘safe’ and ‘happy’.

All I know is gaurding something that I imagine is black and ashy in my chest and lashing out in feeble attempts to protect other people.

Often, I admit while gulping down the fourth half a glass, missing the mark and lashing out at the same people that I love so deeply it hurts just to look at them

There’s other things. But it comes down to that. All roads lead to Rome.

Heh, so why can’t I get off them? I want to go somewhere else.

I don’t notice that eventually my vision blacks out along with my thoughts and my memories. I wouldn’t come to until late in the morning from the depth of my beanbag with an urgency to get to the bathroom for a good wake-up vomit.

No wonder I’m alone.

#ic #mobile )) (( work #drabble #(( beware typoes #not much for spellcheck here at work ))#(( been a long time since ive been able to crank something out like this so please lemme know if it's any good aaaaaaa ))

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