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tricoloredillusion · 7 months

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More headcanons compilation:

Headcanon of Neo’s Semblance going off when she’s having nightmares and she just, manifests horrors around the room related to it, subconsciously

Her sleep paralysis demons are more real than you think, but they break as soon as she’s fully awake

Still creepy af to watch as an outsider

---

Thinking again about how my poor girl ended with a great pain in her throat because of the forced talking of the CC’s possession. The mix of possession magic to do so but while in a mute host like Neo, well, damaged her vocal cords even more for the moment.

She recovered from it after getting to the tree, but I don’t doubt the further inflammation or even infection/bleeding of defective vocal cords wasn’t exactly a nice experience.

It definitely added to the horrifying feeling of the possession. But that was the point, having an experience like that isn’t to be taken lightly, specially when it definitely felt like a mockery of who Neo was as a person.

---

Getting deeper into my Neo’s stay in the Ever After post V9-

So after deciding to keep being herself, with consequences and all, I’ve already mentioned how her intention was actually to help a little around the place, mainly because she thought it would help her find a purpose to go back to Remnant, or maybe one to stay there forever, thing is, with the changes of her body and behavior, the month she was around was probably more hellish for her than to anyone else.

Her /DIET/, while staying there she fed herself with fruits, cheese, and I want to imagine strange fish that she could either get from the beach or rivers around the Ever After. But because she now had the urges of a predator from time to time, the EFFORT she had to make to not eat any of the adorable and rational animal companions from the place was almost painful.

She installed her main spot in the Cake Acre. She may or may have not consumed a lot of sugary stuff there to keep her mind busy and get sugar high.

Her reputation as the Mad Hatter completely came from the fact that at times, in moments in which she wanted to eat some of the Afterans, she isolated herself in the Cake Acre for a closed tea party. One in which she was surrounded by illusions rather than real creatures. Playing pretend until the sensation of hunger for flesh went away.

There was no real Jabberwalker anymore because Neo killed it, but at least the Reassuring Rabbit helped with fixing the hearts of the Afterans a little, and in part it included Neo herself when going through a very bad episode.

The illusory characters that accompanied her delusions were, of course, based on the Alice in Wonderland characters. Other versions of them, anyway. Her own dormouse, the March Hare…and Alyx.

---

The things she gained from the post-possession are:

Heightened senses (smell, hearing…).

The white slit pupils. She can now see in the dark.

Sharp teeth. To tear apart prey.

Nails that grow like sharp nails (in both, hands and feet). Also to help with hurting.

Feral cat behaviour/urges of a predatory animal at times.

Heat cycles. A few days before her period, she gets one.

What’s only part of a trauma response of her Semblance:

Cat ears and a tail. When the CC possessed her, they made ears and a tail appear on the body, so subconsciously, she feels uncomfortable without them -ironically enough- because at the same time, the whole cat thing makes her disgusted with herself.

---

The fact I didn’t directly mention yet (around here) how my Neo has problems with wanting to eat ‘dead prey’ thanks to the feral side of her half-beast condition now.

Including other people.

She isn’t exactly too proud of it, but it has happened- :’)

When I mentioned the cannibalism headcanon, I avoided adding that Neo would go as far as to eat organ and bone like feral cats do, but now you gotta live with the burden of knowing as well.

And yes, her body changed enough to be able to consume raw flesh and stuff.

The only thing is that she’s small enough to never be able to eat her prey whole if it ends up being a person, pretty much.

---

It’s still funny whenever I refer to my Neo design as ‘my version of ascended Neo’ when, yes, she did have a talk with the tree and became wood, but technically she didn’t ascend, otherwise she would’ve lost all her memories.

NOW, the fact she chose herself very much like Ruby speaks by itself. My Neo would rather keep the memories of her life (specially because, how cruel would it be to FOREVER forget about Roman himself?) than lose them.

She would rather endure the trauma and the changes in her body to not forget Roman and her life experiences, even if she has to work through her struggles again. Like, there’s part of her screaming that she’s strong enough.

My Neo didn’t have a graceful fall into the tree at the end to ‘ascend’, she actually sat on the edge of the area after bowing to team RWBY and Jaune, unsheathed Hush, and cut her neck with the blade.

Letting her own weight to fall down into the tree afterwards, and finally 'ascending’.

Edit: it left a scar on her neck.

---

Depressing headcanon time for my Neo! So, beware. Mention of suicidal tendencies ahead.

Because I didn’t write this one down until now but, we already know that my Neo went through one of the biggest breakdowns after the fall of Beacon- Roman’s death and the shocking sight of his remains affected her REALLY bad, to the point her Semblance started going off to torment her with the images of her parents and Roman.

At that point in time the illusions couldn’t speak out loud, but Neo’s mind did enough with tormenting her with inner thoughts and the inner voices of the people she projected.

That being, Carmel, Jimmy and Roman. Not only was she extremely broken, but she also felt some guilt at first about not being there to protect Roman.

So, well, she fell into a depressive episode for some time. After 2 or 3 days of the fall of Beacon, she didn’t outright think of going to find Cinder at Mistral- she had to work through her mood at first, and at some point of the day, she was so emotionally exhausted, that she had a small incident in which she almost let the illusions to actually kill her.

Jimmy and Carmel holding her in place, and Roman choking her to death.

It was a subconscious wish of wanting to end with her life, but, of course, because there was still a part of her that wanted to live, the same way her subconscious gave her these living nightmares, it took them away, so before it could get too severe, she made the illusions disappear.

It was a very harsh week? Month? It really took her a while to recompose herself and turn her depression into wrath and thus, get into the path for revenge.

#Headcanon #long post #tw cannibalism #tw suicidal behavior #tw possession #ask to tag #I'm sure I'm missing stuff but listen #I've written a lot of headcanons down for her in the last month that #I may as well just put the masterlist somewhere

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onggi · 9 months

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Fallen, Falling

They’re starting to pick up on the fact that I’m not exactly a welcome presence here. It happens everywhere I go eventually and I can’t say I don’t deserve it. Last time, it was the king who sent me packing, the blood of his son not yet dry on my hands. Before that, it was someone like me: voidtouched, fighting over what little meagre territory I had. I didn’t care enough about it to put up a fight; I just left. Besides, staying in one place for too long means I grow roots — whether I want to or not — and that’s a death sentence for someone like me. So I move on. I never say goodbye.

There’s hunger, and then there’s hunger. Sometimes, I’ll hear whispering temptations in the corners of my mind. They’ll tell me things I didn’t even know I thought. And the voices — no, just one voice — it changes you, after a while. For me, it started slowly: one day, I felt this weird bump in the middle of my chest. At first I thought it was a scar or something, but then it kept growing, and I started to have this weird thought that maybe somewhere far down the line I had a secret satyr ancestor who was bestowing upon me the magical gift of tits. Like, congratulations on all your wrongdoings! Here’s a pair of honkers to ruin your life forever.

You have no idea how relieved I was to find out it was just a gaping, toothy maw. I’d much rather have a big freaky mouth on my chest than anything else. But now it gets hungry, and no matter what I feed it, it never stops asking for more. I’m starting to think it’s not hungry for food — at least, not the kind that you can eat. Lately, when I’m tearing past red down to cold, hard white in a frenzy of biting steel, I find that hunger stirring within me.

So I’m a freak, but I knew that already. And I’m a freak with a murderous streak a mile wide. And I’m a freak with a murderous streak a mile wide who never settles down anywhere, not long enough to be remembered as anything more than the mysterious stranger with the twisted smile. And that’s fine. I rub elbows with the ones who are like me — we tear each other down as we claw for air in this stifling world, claws gashing at the sinew between muscles, mean smiles and even meaner words.

I don’t sleep. I guess it would be more honest to say that I don’t want to sleep most of the time because that’s when they can get to me, but I’m not honest, so I don’t sleep. I travel under the dark blanket of the night, melting into the soft shadows like I was born to walk with them. My blade is always at my side, an arcing limb forged in the skies. When I gaze into its clouded depths, I don’t see my reflection — I see another world. One that I’ll never be a part of. But sometimes, when I walk beneath the starlit sky, it almost feels like I’m in that wispy, moonstruck realm, even if it’s only until the sun rises once more.

I’ve always imagined that the stars are sleeping giants from an age long past. Once, the starpeople waded through the seas and stomped upon the mountains and plucked the trees from the ground as easily as I pluck flowers. But they were hunted for their blood and their flesh and their bone, all powerful beyond our imagination. Their numbers began to dwindle as they were slain one after the other by tiny mortals who thought themselves strong enough to take on the gods. One day, without explanation or bravado, the starpeople went to sleep in the sky. They’d wake up someday when the world was ready for them to return; until then, however, they would slumber, dreaming of a land hiding just beyond the event horizon.

The reality, it turns out, is not so fantastical.

I’m by the sea when it happens. Not the celestial sea of outer space; just a sea, on some inconsequential planet that I forget the name of even after the black rot of my death magic has consumed the shuddering last breath of the blessed child. They said it would grow up to be a god. It’s nothing more than ash, now. But I’m sitting on the shore, fingers curled into shimmering black sand, and I watch as the stars in the sky sparkle softly, the slow twinkle matching the long, deep breaths of snoring giants.

One of them seems especially bright that night. I’ve never been one for naming things — I don’t want to get attached — but I’ve always felt like the stars each have names. Not names given to them by mortals, but names that they’re born with. Names that will die when they die. So I’ve never named a star, but I’m mentally thinking, oh, this is a bright one. I bet it would have a cool name. I wish I could know that name.

And then I notice that it’s getting bigger. And then I notice it’s not getting bigger, it’s getting closer. And before I know it, this scarlet blaze of celestial fury is bearing down upon the land in a bright rush of prismatic colour, searing the trailing sparks into the back of my eyes, and I think even my best illusions couldn’t hold a candle to this. I don’t know if I’m curious, per se; curiosity is such a naïve and childish thing. There’s nothing left to be curious about once you’ve watched the light fade out of glimmering eyes. But it’s unusual, and that’s enough to pique my interest. Unusual means entertainment, and I’m carnally bored by most things in the world.

I don’t expect the star to crash right into the sea, fizzing up in a huge puff of bubbling smoke. The shockwaves ripple outwards in walls of glittering water, threatening to drown me whole, but I’m not so easily killed. No, I run towards it and dive straight through the wave itself.

I’m a proficient swimmer, I’ll say it myself. I can’t pull off any of the fancy moves, but when I was younger I decided I wanted to be as unkillable as the cockroach that survives a nuclear war. You can drown in two inches of water. It sounds stupid, to die such a pathetic death like that, and technically if someone held my head underwater and refused to budge I’d have to find other ways of getting free, but being able to swim at least makes me a little more hardy. And I’m fast. Nothing graceful, just arms and legs tearing through water like knives. Brutal, but efficient.

I’m not swimming just out of self preservation, though. I could have gone running the other way and normally I would, but the allure of all those valuable magical elements and ingredients sitting just right there is too tempting. If I find it first, maybe I can extract the best and take it with me when I leave. I’ve heard of a potion that can give you the power to breathe fire like a dragon, but you need the crystallised icefire of a comet to even begin the brewing process.

I think it’d be fun to breathe fire. Probably not super practical, but it’s always nice to get creative with your victims.

But I reach the site of the crash and, besides the water feeling unbearably hot, there’s no sign of a fallen star. I dive down beneath the surface, holding my breath with my cheeks puffed out like a frog and my eyes wide open, kicking down, down, down. It’s too dark to see much, but there’s something glowing in the distance — my vision is too fuzzy to make out exactly what it is, but glowing usually means magic. Something possibly worth my time. And then that’s when it hits me: that sprawling ravenous hunger, and the teeth carved into my chest begin to bare themselves in anticipation.

Blood. Blood in the water.

It’s like something takes over completely. The dark voice that haunts me is a susurrus of incomprehensible whispers, but somehow my body seems to understand its command. Kick. Kick. Kick. Pull the water back through cupped hands. Go deeper. Deeper. Chase it. And then I’m holding something in my hands, but there’s too much red everywhere for me to see what it is. My mouth — both mouths — open to taste the water. Something bright and metallic flickers against my tastebuds. Before I can even make the decision, I’m swimming back up, dragging my waterlogged bounty behind me.

I don’t have time to examine it. I have to make it to the shore before the tide pulls me out, because then no amount of swimming will save me, and I’m cursing the weight tied over my shoulders. I feel sluggish and slow, weakened now that whatever possessed me in the moments before has slipped out of my grasp.

It’s not too long before I’m back onshore, hauling my starpiece behind me. But when I turn around, there’s no star — only a battered excuse of a browbird, fur close to his skin. It was a waste of time after all, I think, rolling him over onto his back. He’s probably already dead — I can’t even have any fun with him. Deep red blood oozes from a huge gash on his chest, trailing back the way I came, smudges of scarlet staining the soft midnight sand like a trail of breadcrumbs. My death magic reaches out like a long, bony finger, probing the wound. Magically inflicted. Then I probe deeper, pushing past the tear in his chest to reach in and touch the place where his spectral essence should be quickly fading, prepared to snatch the last of it for myself.

It’s not, though. Not fading. In fact, it’s blindingly bright; so bright that my magic recedes with a hiss of displeasure. It’s like a thousand glowing threads, all intertwined to make some celestial tapestry. It feels purposeful. It feels like it means something, but I can’t tell what, and it’s something I’ve never even seen before, not in any mortal’s soul. I squint through lightbleached eyes, trying to make sense of the patterns and the colours, and that’s when I notice that something’s off. There’s a shuddering coldness emitting from part of the nexus of everything, incongruent when compared with the hot white blaze of the other threads, so against my better judgement, I push in. There’s no voice puppeteering my limbs now — it’s all me, all foolish instinct and, yes, curiosity — as I weave through the maze of glittering soulsilk, taking care to touch nothing for fear of spontaneously combusting in a blaze of holy fire.

I see it! A thorn, black as night and shimmering with insidious purple. If it’s a weapon, it’s unfamiliar to me, and I’ve seen the heat of battle enough to walk into an armoury and name everything on sale with my eyes closed. The threads around it are beginning to sever, falling apart in rippling waves. It’s pretty, but it also feels wrong, and something tells me that if I leave this thorn as it is, everything in this place will die.

Well, this is my prey now and I’m going to be the one to reap the rewards. So I glide over to the thorn, spectral fingers curling around its poisonous hilt, and pull.

I’m vomited out alongside copious amounts of water. It takes me a moment to pull myself together and realise that I’m not in that world anymore; everything feels so dark all of a sudden and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust, but I can hear coughing. I blink once, twice. The stars click into place over the calm sea and everything makes sense again: my feet curled in the black sand, my wet hair sticking to my ears like a second skin, the mysterious stranger hacking up half a lung at my feet.

I look down at him. The gaping hole in his chest is knitting itself together as if with invisible threads, the once mortal wound first becoming little more than a scratch, then nothing at all. All that remains is the ruddy smudge upon his fur and at first I think it’s blood, but then I realise that I can’t taste any iron in the air.

He’s a little pretty, if I’m honest. I don’t really care for aesthetics, but even in his wet mop state, coughing like he’s on his deathbed, I can tell that he’s not really from this world. I think I’d be able to tell even if I hadn’t seen the tapestry of his soul, but that might be wishful thinking. The gentle slope of his ivory horns gives way to a shock of white hair, only matched by the flickering glow of his crest. A star, I notice, and then I realise that there are stars carved into his horns, too.

My gaze travels a little southward and I’m met with pale green eyes staring right up at me, piercing in their intensity. I don’t get surprised, so I don’t react, but I hadn’t expected such a quick recovery. It’s throwing me off a little — I can’t exactly harvest the magic of a conscious victim. By which I mean, I can, but it’s messier than it’s worth. I’m sighing and mustering up the tendrils of my death magic once more, this time to finish the job, but I’m thrown off once again.

By a smile.

People rarely smile at me. I don’t give them much reason to and frankly, if they did, I’d probably turn tail and run. Some people say it’s easier to control people if they love you, but I resent the wriggling uncomfortable feeling that comes with attachment.

This guy has a good smile, I think distantly. It’s not really kind — it’s sharp and fanged, but like everything else about him, blinding in its intensity.

“You saved me.” His voice is surprisingly gruff, not musical at all.

He holds out a hand expectantly.

The thorn is nowhere to be seen, but my palms are coated in black ash. I rub them down on my fur. It doesn’t come off.

I take his hand.

And as I pull him to his feet, I wonder just what the fuck I’ve got myself into.

#oc #writing #blue © noctuary-eyes #lucifer © noctuary-eyes #celestial seas #ub #txt

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bonny-kookoo · 3 years

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👹Bad Habits (JJK x Reader) 💜☁️🔞

👹Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

👹Genre: (Twisted)Romance, Angst, Smut, Psycho!JK

👹Warnings: Size kink, Body worship, biting, rough manhandling, JK accidentally hurts her a bit (but apologizes dw), mildly disturbing themes (blood, guts, bones cracking...), criminal activities such as theft (mentioned) and murder (not actively stated, but heavily implied), panic attack, psychotic episodes, psycho!JK because holy shit I actually got scared what did I create, degrading names (he calls her a whore in his mind like once..), possessive JK, strength kink, reader is unable to conceive (chances are very slim), unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it folks), impreg kink, dead dove do not eat 🕊 manipulative Koo, Dom!Kook, therapy talk, relapses, horrible anger management, emotional koo, emotional reader, look mom I actually wrote a happy ending

👹Summary: Oh monster monster under my bed, you’re the only one I have left, come out and play ‘cause I need a friend.

Jeon Jungkook is sick.

You know this, you are very aware of it if the very much still gaping holes in the walls of your apartment, left from his most recent violent episode is anything to go by. He's got anger issues, that much is very apparent to anyone who genuinely knows Jungkook. Somehow he just can't keep himself in check, it's like he just needs the perfect trigger to simply go off like a bomb dropped from ten feet. It doesn't take much to rile him up. It takes a lot however to get him back down again.

Now, this would be the perfect moment to explain that you are the sweet and kind ray of sunlight calming his temper and cooling his ever violently burning mind- but that's not the case. There's nothing that can tame the young man at your side, nothing that can snap that collar around his neck and chain him up to a wall until he's safe to be around again. You can't do anything more than watch and pray that he will keep his promise to never ever hurt you. At first, you were worried. Anyone would be.

But then the first outbreak came.

Then the second.

And you were fine.

He would wreck the apartment, throw furniture, or beat someone to a bloody mess in an alleyway next to a nightclub simply because the guy had looked at your admittedly short skirt the wrong way. While for the longest time he didn't care about anyone, you've become his possession, in every way that the word stands. He owns you, every single cell of your being is his, and he's ready to push anyone's eyes back into their skull just for looking at you weirdly. No one is allowed to lust after you but him. No one's allowed to even think about you but him.

It's quite bittersweet, the reasoning behind his obsession with you. You're not scared, you're never running away, you're always so gentle, so delicate, such an angel around him- and in one way he fears that one day he's gonna be the wolf eating the sheep in a frenzy. In the other however, he's weirdly amused by it; the way you still look at him so innocently as if you didn't know that his hands could snap your neck like a twig between his combat boots he's typically sporting. It's a very twisted story with you two, and in a sense, he's certain that you have to be just as sick in your head as he is for genuinely loving him and his bad habits.

Just like now.

You're not saying anything. Even when you can hear the young mans ribs cracking underneath the steel toed black boots of your boyfriend, you're quiet, watching, unable to tear your eyes away from him- and you don't even know who exactly you're watching. You have already forgotten what the young man looked like- your eyes unable to reconstruct his facial features back to what they were before Jungkook had thrown his fists into them until the stranger couldn't even open his eyes anymore, face bloody and bruised to the point where you're hoping he won't survive it. You're also simply watching as Jungkooks pretty long hair, drenched in a mixture of sweat and rain from above whips around violently as if to mimic the way his muscled leg stomps into the man's chest over an over again, face holding a determination that should scare you. It's all over after a moment however, as your boyfriend seems to grow a bit tired now, slowly calming down as his anger ebbs down, waves finally evening as he breathes heavily. He runs a hand through his hair as he looks at what's in front of his feet; unable to quite realize that this was actually him. He turns, looking for you, and his entire facial expression suddenly changes.

While he looked absolutely terrifying just moments before, he's suddenly holding such a sweet and calm glint in his eyes as he takes off his jacket, putting it over your head as he smiles down at you, inner demon now fed again as it seems to crawl back behind his actual soul it consumes daily. You smile back, and he leads you out of the alley, giggling like a teenager when you playfully start to run towards the car, calling him a sore looser when he doesn't let you win like he usually does.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's just a young man as well, deep down.

He's got you sat on his lap as he greedily licks at your neck, teeth suddenly clamping down on the skin as you mewl underneath his touch and actions. He's grinning like the devil in person, his large-in-comparison palms holding your behind as they suddenly sneak underneath your shirt; his shirt, actually, and the main reason he suddenly got hungry to devour you. Your hair is still slightly damp, but he doesn't care as he lifts you up, placing you underneath him on your shared bed, hair falling into his eyes as he pulls the dark grey carharrt shirt over your head, immediately kissing your collarbone, hands kneading your breasts needily as he seems too eager to slow down anytime soon. He grabs your ribs and its as if he doesn't know where to touch- he wants it all, wants to feel it all, all at once, because it drowns out all the bad things he usually does. You're an outlet for his pent up aggression, only that he lets loose differently with you. He's got no hunger to make you suffer, to give you pain or to have you look at him in fear. No, he simply craves the way you writhe underneath him, ready for him, wanting, needing him. Such an angel, such a whore, so needy for his love and affection.

Something he wasn't sure he was capable of.

But he is, and it shows; while he usually moves with his jaw clenched, his brows furrowed, ever so agitated by the simplest of things, his face is calm now, relaxed, eyes however still feral- his gaze enough to make your core ache and your skin tingle. He's chuckling as he moves you around, suddenly impatient as he noticed your panties won't leave your legs as fast as he wants them to. It irritates him to the point where he just rips them as the seams, the fabric now ruined, but neither of you care as his hand instantly finds its way down to cup your heat, ring- and middle finger collecting your slick to bring it upwards to your clit, thumb running in circles over it as you squirm and whine, making him smile.

You're so sweet like this, and he can't help but move your legs, pulling you closer to him in his usual rough manner- he's not capable of being all gentle and sweet, after all. He tries, he really does, but Jungkook is like an overgrown puppy; he doesn't know how much strength he actually has. And it shows, as you squeak, painfully so, as he had gripped your legs a bit too tightly; fingerprints already an angry red on your skin, and he cooes at you, apologizing. "I'm sorry, so sorry.." He hushes against your skin, placing sweet kisses on the pulsing marks on your leg. "can't help it baby.." He muses, and you simply nod your head, hands reaching out for him as he smiles again, kissing your lips, finally.

He's never been fond of the gesture before, not understanding why something as unsanitary as this could be meant to signify any romance at all. But eventually he's gotten to know the intimacy of it, and had decided for himself that he'll never kiss anyone but you in his life. He doesn't want anyone but you anyways. You're his, for now, and forever.

"You're so sweet angel, you know that?"

He humms it against your neck as he finally rids himself of his own clothes, erection hard and proudly waiting to bury itself into your sweet cunt. "Hmm.." He humms again, amusement in his voice as he continues to draw patterns over your sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. "I still can't believe how I fit inside that pretty body of yours." He says, as you suddenly feel the hot skin of his length against your middle. "Can't believe you can take it so well princess." His hand leaves your core finally, as he slowly enters you, making you mewl as he groans.

He doesn't have much self-restraint, but every time you're together like this, you're both amazed by how much he can control himself. The way he plays you like an expensive instrument makes you hang from his hands like a puppet on its strings. And you love it- the simple fact that he's able to do anything he wants with you, yet he'd never use you just to throw you away. He'd never hurt you. You know this.

He grins as he places his hand over the slight bulge forming underneath your skin where his cock is moving inside you, all warm and swollen, impatient as he can't help but move more vigorously, harder than before, as your body moves along with the beat he's giving you. He's in control, its impossible to lie about that and you don't see any problem with that. Your mind is empty, only pleasure remains as he bites down onto your skin again, hands roaming as if they can't decide where they want to stay; because it's the truth after all. He can't decide what he loves most about you, if your body is whats the most desirable or if its your soul locked inside of it and chained to his own like a prisoner. He gets a kick out of this feeling, out of the way you're speared on his cock like the doll you are, and if he desired to, he could simply snap your bones like those pepero snacks you always eat, and it would be just as sweet as they taste. Yet he doesn't- he's being oh so generous with you, letting you live beside him, keeping you as safe as he could at his side, never to let anything come close to you. You're his.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's also head over heels in love with you.

You don't know what it was this time.

You only know that he's currently in your shared apartment, having returned from Job hunting, and by the sounds of crashing glass, he's probably having another one of those days. You know you should just leave him, but ever so often your own curiosity gets the best of you, and you sit up on the bed, dressed in nothing but a shirt, your panties, and socks to keep your feet warm, since the heating in your apartment broke months ago. You carefully open the bedroom door, peaking around the wood to spot him as he currently kicks his shoes off in an ever so violent manner. He spots you, eyes dark and feral, but this time it's not lust in them. "Get back inside." He barks out, and you know why he does it.

He wants to keep you safe.

Against all odds he knows what he is. He knows he's sick, knows he's a danger to himself and others, and that's why he's always telling you to stay away from him whenever his anger is boiling over like this. It's his way of keeping you safe, keeping you protected and you know better than to go against his own judgement. He knows himself best, after all.

Only as you can hear him hiss in pain do you go against him.

As the apartment grows quiet, you slowly step outside the room again, eyes searching for the form of your boyfriend, before finally spotting him near the kitchen table, one hand on it, while the other is held close to his chest. You can see blood on the white cracked tiled floor close to him, and you immediately grow worried for him. You slowly creep inside the bathroom, retrieving some stuff from the first aid kit, as you walk back outside, spotting him on the couch now. "..kookie?" You carefully ask, wary of any signs of his body that he's not yet down to earth yet. But he doesn't move at all. You slowly walk around the couch, squatting down in front of him as your hands carefully reach out for his inked arm, and he lets you, his eyes eerily not looking at anything at all. You hiss a bit and sit down on his lap as he doesn't argue with you, almost delicately treating his wounded skin. He's probably somehow cut himself on the broken glass from the photo frame he broke. He seems awfully exhausted, which isn't a new sight to you. He usually is after a day like that.

"We're gonna loose the apartment." He says darkly, yet you don't stop what you're doing, simply humming an acknowledgement at him, while you don't look up at him. "Are you even listening?!" He suddenly barks out, grabbing your wrists as you look at him; not in fear however. You simply wait for him, like you always do, until he suddenly looks down onto his hands, letting go of your now red wrists with a look on his face like his favorite puppy has just been killed. "They simply said because of my criminal record they can't employ me-" He began, already getting riled up again as you kissed his cheek to distract him before he could slip again. With you situated on his lap like that, it could prove fatal.

"I'm gonna get a job, from home maybe. We'll figure things out." You softly say, and he doesn't seem like he quite believes you. He doesn't need to, at least not yet. It takes time, but you'll take yourself the time you need, even if its someone else's. Its not like he ever really cared about whats who's after all. "I still love you, you know?" You say, and that's when he breaks.

For the first time in those years you know him, he falls to the ground, crashes onto concrete with full force, and it wrecks through his entire body as he pulls you close, sobbing into your neck as he hiccups and chokes on his emotions, his hug painfully tight, but you don't complain. You're too shocked by his state to react much, other than running a hand over his back in a hopefully soothing manner. He doesn't stop for a moment, and you don't have a good feeling for time, so you cant tell how long you both sit like this, until he's finally exhausted to the point of simple slumping down, asleep as his body finally gives up. You carefully stand up, letting him somehow softly fall to his side as you struggle to pull his legs up to properly lay o the couch. Walking into the bedroom you retrieve blankets for him and yourself, as you crawl underneath his arm to lay against his chest, underneath the blankets, as you try and think of a way to help him.

You can't get a job. Not only because he won't let you, but because you get sick too easily. You're not allowed by doctors advice to work in any field that requires direct customer contact- and sadly that's all your educational level would allow you to work in. It never bothered Jungkook however, if anything he welcomed it as a good reason for you to stay at home, and at his side at all times. For him however, there were different reasons he didn't have a job. He couldn't keep one, with his short temper making him unfit for any job that required him to handle other people. He was a bomb ready to explode any moment at all times, and it was hard for him to land a job at any interview he somehow got. And nowadays, as word got around, no one simply wanted to employ him; stories of him going off at complaints and always being ready to throw hands made him the talk of the town in terms of who to look out for. He also had a criminal record- which didn't make the situation any easier.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. And it's a serious issue.

You somehow made it another month concerning rent.

With you selling some clothing you made yourself for a reasonable price, you somehow had at least a bit of an income, yet Jungkook didn't really seem like himself these days. He didn't leave the apartment much, and seemed much more grim to everything around him. You somehow thought that maybe he was just in a bad mood- but it seemed like this time things were a bit more serious than that.

"Princess?" He calls, as you rub your hand over the side of your neck, having laid on the couch weirdly as you had been taking a nap recently. You perked up at his call, walking out of the open kitchen to meet his gaze in the living room, his eyes serious as he pats his thighs; an invitation for you to sit down. He likes having you seated on his lap like this; it makes him feel all comfortable, knowing that you're so close to him. "I.." He starts, and visibly struggles with finding the right words for what he wants to say. "I want to get therapy." He states, and its quiet for a moment. You need to process his words for a second, as he never spoke about his issues like this. You never really thought about this option at all, and it makes you feel bad, deep inside, as you now realize that this was something you should've thought about as well, from the start on maybe. But you never wanted him to change for you; making you kick yourself in your thoughts. It never occurred to you that he wasn't changing for you, he didn't need to change for you, he needed to change for himself as well. You simply started to smile, and your arms snaked around his neck as he breathed in your scent, happy that you take this so well. He had struggled with the acceptance of it for a long time, and with you at his side, he knows he can somehow maybe change.

Even if its just a bit.

"I want to be a better man. For me, and mostly for you." He starts, and you attempt to speak, but he smiles, and kisses you instead, successfully shutting you up. "Don't say I don't need to. We know I do." He explains, and you nod. You're curious on why he suddenly realized it, but you decide not to dig too deep, as he currently seems vulnerable enough to you. So you simply let him hold you like this, quietly, calmly, while outside the thunderstorm continues, rain hitting the windows with as much force as the wind sees fit. Its ironic, really. Typically the situation is the opposite.

But somehow it feels like everything is changing, right in that moment. Just a few words have been spoken, but the ones that did make it out were a promise, a vow, a sentence of hope to finally get a hold on the future you both had dreamed about before, tangled in sheets and each others limbs. He's always said he wanted a family, as cheesy as it sounded to him back then, and then he'd laughed about it as if it was a joke. It somehow was, at least during that time it was; how could he be a better father than his if he was just the same? He didn't want his story to take a turn like that, to end up hurting you in the process of his own selfishness just to get what he wanted. No, he wanted something different in his life; he wanted his children to look up to him as a person they could be in awe of not because they were scared, but because they were proud to have them.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's also finally realizing it.

Therapy never goes smoothly from A to point B. It's never a smooth ride, never a straight line connecting the start to the goal. And Jungkook is feeling that as he walks through the door, fuming after an in his eyes pointless session with his therapist. Why the fuck would they want to know about his childhood? That's his business and his own only, it doesn't concern anyone other than himself. Hell, he never even talked to you about it- and he sure as hell won't start chatting away with a stranger like this. He can't control himself as his fist connects with the wall next to the door, drywall cracking underneath the force as you stand in the middle of the living room, looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He's disappointed in himself in that moment; he was supposed to get better. He was supposed to have himself in check by now, it was supposed to end; yet here he is, just the same as a month before he started. You try and walk towards him, and he's ready to tell you to turn around and leave him alone, but he doesn't. For some reason, this is not pure anger he's feeling.

It's frustration.

And it leads to his eyes watering, as he lets you hold him close, your warm palms running over his back as best as you can with the height difference, and he simply lets his forehead rest on your shoulder, breathing while you softly count next to his ear. He concentrates and lets go of his emotions all at once, taking his time to feel them before he opens his mind up to letting them go. It sounded stupid to him when he was told that this could help him, but now that he's doing it, he gets why its being taught. It helps. Its like a bandaid being taken off after your cut has heeled. It hurts a bit as its being taken off, but the fresh air on the newly connected skin feels so good that the short sting before is more than worth it.

He sniffles, and you giggle, making him chuckle as well, as he runs a hand over your head, a silent sign that he's okay now. "Try again next week. You're doing so great now, Kookie." You say, and its this small encouragmenent that makes him grin brightly.

Because as you both stand in the kitchen, making homemade pizza for the first time in ages, he feels at ease with his surroundings. He calms down rather quickly even though some things don't go as planned, and laughs more freely at his own mistakes as you smile brightly at him. Sometimes you feel like crying, seeing him change like this, but you're strong enough to hold it in until he leaves during the day. You're still unsure how the future will be changing, still a lot unknown to the both of you, but for now, you'll continue to keep each others heads above the waves with your sewing, while he does his best at getting better. You know he can make it, you're certain he can, and will.

Because Jungkook is sick. But he's finally getting help.

You don't know what has happened when he bursts through the door, uncaring to either take off his shoes nor to close it behind him, as he picks you up, spins you around, grinning so much his eyes crinkle at their sides, and you laugh, even though you don't know why he's so happy. "I got a job! Baby, I finally got a job!" He yells, screams almost, and it makes your eyes water; not because he's taking a huge weight off your shoulder, but because this has been one of his biggest goals ever since he started this journey of getting help. He's so happy about it that this time you can't keep it in, you can't stop the tears as they flow out, making you hiccup and wheep into his shoulder as you struggle to get your words out. "Baby- Princess, hey hey-" He says, setting you down as his hands wipe away at your eyes, the letter confirming his acceptance still in his left hand as he worriedly looks at you. "Why are you crying angel? hm?" He cooes, admittedly a bit amused, because he can imagine what's happening.

"I'm so happy!" You squeeze out, before another wave hits you, and he kneels down, holding you tightly again, as he doesn't let go of you, his love for you overflowing inside his veins as it fills his entire body. He's so thankful for your existence in his life, and he will never be truly able to properly tell you that. It's impossible to put it into his words how much he appreciates you staying at his side through this entire endeavor. Every time he's asked why he does this, his answer is always your name on his lips, always spoken with a slight smile, nowadays a bright grin he's not ashamed showing.

You don't let him go until he chuckles. "Will you let me close the door at least?" He asks amused, as he feels the slightly cool breeze coming inside from the complex' hallway. You disconnect yourself from him for a moment, wiping your eyes with your sleeve as he closes the door, finally taking off his shoes at last, as he walks back, running towards you with a playful growl that makes you laugh as you try and run away from him. But he catches you easily, carrying you over his shoulder into the bedroom, where he bites and licks at your neck, hands pinching your sides making you squirm around and laugh, desperately trying to get away from him. He'll never let you, and you know this, so its unsurprising that he's suddenly pulling your sweater over your head, needing to be close to you. It's cold inside the apartment, and you shiver as the almost icy air around you nips at your skin. "Can't wait until we can use the heating again.." He murmurs against your skin as he shifts around a bit, carefully undressing himself before he crawls underneath the heavy covers with you. "then you can flaunt around in your pretty underwear all day without getting cold." He chuckles, as you hit his chest playfully at the remark. "What? Its always so cold I never get to see you in it." He whines, as he reaches between your legs, inked hand easily working you up as you squirm around. "I never get to see your pretty body properly because we have to hide away like this." He complains, and you simply whine at him, as he suddenly enters you. "For now I'll just warm you up like this, hm?" He humms out, and you nod, not really understanding what you're agreeing to, but you do it anyways.

He's awfully slow and soft, you notice, as he' way more collected as usual. "I love this." He suddenly presses out, eyes closed in bliss as he kisses the side if your neck, trailing down to nip at your collarbone, while his hands find yours, intertwining your fingers in a gesture you can only describe as awfully romantic. "I love being able to make love to you." He explains, as you open your eyes a bit, meeting his as he watches you underneath him. "Though I think you don't mind me being a bit rough with you, no?" He playfully suggests, and your cheeks grow a bit red at that, before he laughs, head dipping down to properly kiss your lips, tongue instantly searching for entrance as he doesn't pick up the pace. "Can't wait until you're all round with my baby." He suddenly suggests, and your eyes open wide as you open your mouth to correct him, but you shut up as his eyes meet yours, determination in them as he suddenly grabs the behind of your thighs, positioning them a bit differently to hit even deeper. "I know, I know-" He chants, as he picks up his pace. "I don't care." He presses out between his own heavy breaths. "I'll just-" He begins, loving the way you mewl under his touch, "I'll just fuck you over and over again until it works." He promises, and you simply nod, unable to deny him. The chances you'll ever conceive are slim- but as he states, never zero. "I'll just- I'll just fill you up until your body can't help but give me a child." He muses, as you start to clench. And he knows, notices, how much this idea is just as enticing to you as it is to him. "You gonna cum? Hm?" He asks, and you nod vigorously before you arch your back off the mattress, making him groan as he shoots his load as well, the visual image of your pleasure underneath him combined with the way you clench his aching length inside granting him his release as well.

As you lay on your sides, all snuggled up underneath the covers after cleaning up, he kisses your bare shoulder, eyes closed. "I mean it, you know." He says, and you humm a reply, before he explains further. "I want a family with you. Someday. When I'm ready." He says, and you nod. You'll somehow make it work, you know this. If he can overcome his demons, you can overcome your own cursed body as well. You deeply hope, at least.

Because Jeon Jungkook is sick, but he's starting to see a future.

"Jeon!" His coworker yells in the big hall he's working in. "Why, pray tell, did you never tell us your girl is that fucking pretty, aye?" He barks in a playful manner, as you walk inside beside the old man, carrying a small plastic bag with what he assumes is a lunchbox. The view of you next to that man stirs something inside him, as he slowly gets up, wrench still in his hand, brows furrowed.

"Because your filthy hands should stay six feet away from her." He responds, with his brows still furrowed, before he finally sneezes.

"Bless you, hah! I'll let you have your break earlier-" The old man winks at you, then gives Jungkook a firm hit against the chest, taking the wrench away from him. "But only because she's cute!" He laughs, as he walks into the hall, Jungkook now walking towards you.

You're proud of him.

Months ago, this would've never been possible; neither the simple fact that he had a job, nor the small incident with his coworker just now. He still got easily irritated, but he worked through these emotions way more easy nowadays. His coworkers and boss know of his past, know what he was like and know that he's still deep in therapy, but they don't judge. They simply accept him, tame him back into his cage whenever he's close to boiling over again. You love the fact that you can walk inside the breakroom with him, eyes sparkling with newfound childish playfulness as he peaks inside the bag you brought him. He's still very careful with you leaving the house, but its not anymore just for his own gain- he's more open to his surroundings, he's starting to think about how he and his actions can affect others. He doesn't care much still; but he's realized that pretending is enough for now. Small steps.

"The handyman was there today." You say, as you watch him dig into the fried rice you brought him, his interest now gained. "They turned on the heating again. Can you imagine? I didn't even know we had floorboard heating!" You exclaimed excitedly, and Jungkooks eyes widen as well.

"Really? I didn't know either. Fuck, can't wait to come home now." He says, swallowing his bite before taking a sip of his canned soda. "Did that label contact you yet?" He asks, and you shake your head. Recently, you had gained the interest of a bigger clothing label, who wanted to collaborate with you for this season's designs. "Ah, that takes time I guess. We'll wait, its fine." You know he's not only saying that for you, but himself as well. He still gets agitated over small things, but he deals with them a bit more easily. "I'll be home in a couple hours. Do you wanna wait here, or go home?" He asks, and you stand up, packing his now empty food container as you smile.

"I'll take the bus, don't worry." You say, and he furrows his brows playfully.

"Mask?" He asks, and you hold it up proudly, well aware of the precautions you need to take to make public transport safe for you.

"Good girl. Text me when you're home yeah? I'll get us takeout for dinner." He says, as he kisses the top of your head. You nod, and wave him goodbye as you two go separate ways, at least for now, until he's finally free of work.

Jeon Jungkook is sick.

But he's slowly healing.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #dom!jungkook #dom jungkook #Bad Habits!AU

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angelofsmalldeathandthecodeine · 4 years

Text

Aguamenti

Request: “Can you do 1 and 8 on the smut list for Fred or George?”

(”Bite me”/”You’re so sexy when you’re mad”)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: I didn't want to make it too smutty just because I didn’t think it fit too well with everything going on so its a little trash :/ I still love my boi Freddie

Warnings: A LITTLE SMUTTY

Upon proposition, both you and Harry had agreed to teach what he was calling ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ a series of spells and techniques that were deprived of them since Umbridge had arrived. You were a little hesitant at first, and not because of Umbridge, god how you hated that woman. Your worries lay with the responsibility that you and Harry had if entering this agreement, you didn’t want to put anyone in danger.

Of course, you and Harry had become almost experts in the field of Defence Against the Dark Arts, you especially due to your close relationship with Lupin. Remus had taught you pretty much all you needed to know in the comfort of your own home, whereas Harry kind of had to pick it up considering the various dangerous circumstances he seemed to land himself in year after year.

You couldn’t disappoint Harry, not when he needed you, he was like family after all.

“Today me and Y/N are going to be demonstrating a typical duel” Harry announced to the rather sheepish looking crowd “and more importantly, how to win one” you chimed in successfully gaining a laugh from the room.

After bowing your heads, you and Harry began to take your places from one end of the room to another with each other.

“Ready?” Harry asked for confirmation; however, you couldn’t help but get distracted last minute. In the corner of your eye you noticed one of your best friends, Fred, flirting with Angelina Johnson.

You, Fred and George had been friends ever since you joined the Quidditch team in your first year, but recently you had felt differently towards Fred. Getting older gave you feelings you didn’t necessarily understand and on the most part Fred just seemed to annoy you these days – especially when he flaunted around girls.

“Actually Harry, change of plans” you began, causing him to lower his wand in a state of bewilderment “I think it’s best if we use a student with less knowledge for the demonstration, you know, for uh, a better example of the power they’ll be up against” you tried to justify your decision.

“Right, right, yeah of course!” Harry agreed, just as you knew he would, that boy was too nice for his own good sometimes “who did you have in mind?”

“Fred” you said without hesitation or a second thought, getting his attention instantly.

Fred looked up and gave you an overly confident smile which just boiled your blood further “love to” was his only reply.

You smiled back sarcastically, gritting your teeth in the process.

Beginning to take your place once more, Harry was replaced by a much taller, attractive Fred. He proceeded to roll his sleeves, giving you a glimpse at the veins running throughout his arms.

Pay attention

“Ready Fred?” Harry initiated “Ready to win? Sure am mate” Fred replied, gaining a giggle from a lot of the girls, you just rolled your eyes.

“Bite me, Weasley” you replied, a little more frustrated than you were five minutes ago, causing Fred to smirk.

Harry nodded and you and Fred proceeded to walk towards each other for the initial bow. As you both reached the middle, Fred bent down slightly more so you could hear him.

“You’re so sexy when you’re mad” he said, causing you to instantly blush. You knew he was a flirty guy, but you didn’t think he had ever said anything as flirty as that to you before.

Turning around to walk to the end of the room gave you what felt like forever to think about what had just happened, getting slightly distracted from the matter.

“Wands to the ready” Harry announced, arm still mid-air.

You were now directly facing Fred and looking him in the eye seemed a little awkward considering your flustered state. In attempts to compose yourself you looked to the crowd gathered either side of you and caught glimpse of Angelina smiling at Fred.

Instantly you were reminded of your frustration which only engaged you in a deep focus against Fred, locking eyes with him confidently.

Harry swiftly dropped his arm, indicating the beginning of the duel.

“Aguamenti!” you pronounced clearly with a flick of your wand before Fred was even able to utter a single letter.

Suddenly Fred was flung to the back wall through the jet-like force of the water that hit him.

Fred lay on the floor, drenched from head to toe gaining a roaring laugh from those watching – especially George and Ron.

You smirked at Fred, heavily breathing at not just the thrill of winning the duel but the sight of Fred, clothes wet and him distressed.

What was wrong with you.

“Hmm, yeah, not really the spell I had in mind but good job Y/N” Harry commented as Ginny began to help Fred up, still laughing in his face.

“Yeah well, I thought I’d leave the rest up to you” you replied in a sort agitated tone which left a puzzled look on Harry’s face.

“Got to go Harry, you’ll be alright without me today won’t you?” you quietly spoke to him, who just nodded, completely understanding.

As you began walking towards the exit you were stopped in your tracks upon hearing a voice that had started to infuriate you a little too much recently.

“Y/N wait” you heard him get closer “I’ll come with you, gotta get changed out of these bloody wet clothes anyway” he explained, giving a genuine smile.

“great” you mumbled giving another sarcastic smile.

On the way to the common room you seemed to forget all about the incident that had wound you up, it was strange that Fred had the ability to make you do that – forget about your worries. Joking and laughing all the way up made you feel like a kid again, first year meeting the twins.

That was until you reached the common room, and Fred proceeded to take off his jumper of course. You were sitting in Fred’s empty dorm room, on his bed watching him find dry uniform to change into. The moment had never seemed weird until now – until you couldn’t stop staring at his bare chest through the now transparent shirt that clung to him.

You could feel your heart rate increase as you started to heavily breathe once more, transfixed on Fred. An overwhelming sensation began to consume your stomach.

Fred was rambling on about the upcoming Quidditch game, but you couldn’t help yourself any longer. You knew exactly what had been troubling you these past couple of months with Fred and you were about to prove it.

You stood up, growing closer to Fred who had his back turned to you as he still searched for dry clothes crouched over his trunk.

“Fred” you simply said, gaining his attention.

He turned to face you slowly standing, a little worried about what you were about to say from your posture and breathing.

“yeah?”

“Shut up” you lifted your heels to reach Fred, locking your fingers between his auburn hair and crashing your lips against his.

Instantly he did as told, feeding both yours and his own hunger by kissing you passionately back. Fred wrapped his long arms around your waist and pulled you closer into him, allowing the water on his shirt to almost turn into steam.

The kiss was hard but soft at the same time, not allowing the opportunity for a breath between you. Fred’s hands suddenly reached further down your waist as he swiftly lifted you, holding you in his arms for a moment before placing you on his cabinet.

Having the freedom of his arms back he returned the favour of entangling his fingers between your hair, slightly tugging on it as his kiss grew more desperate, sending shivers down your spine.

Fred’s lips slowly moved away from your own as he lifted the hair between his fingers, trailing kisses from your jawline down to your neck, causing you to let out soft moans.

As he did you frantically began unbuttoning his shirt, peeling it from his still damp body. Each kiss he placed on you made the butterflies in your stomach flutter a little harder, pulling at his hair signalling for him to continue.

Fred assisted you in taking the rest of his shirt of, as he started to take your tie off all the while still kissing your neck which sent you crazy. You rolled your head back at the tingling sensation of Fred’s sucking of your neck paired with his warm breath growling in your ear.

“I lied earlier” Fred gave a breathily whisper in your ear “You’re so sexy all the time” he continued, giving you an intense feeling.

You fiercely grabbed Fred’s face once more continuing to impulsively engage in your heavy make-out session.

Before you knew it your shirt was being unbuttoned, revealing nothing but your bra and bare skin exposed… but you didn’t mind one bit, in fact it felt so right you couldn’t believe it had took this long for you and Fred to be half naked together.

“Nice to see you two getting along again” you jumped out of your skin, quickly attempting to cover whatever part of you was exposed as you looked up to see a very casual George sending a wink your way.

“Christ George!” you yelled which just caused him to burst out laughing “Well then! Turn around!” you exclaimed as Fred picked up your shirt for you to start putting back on.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving… detention with Umbridge, have fun you two” George said giving you both another wink.

Your state of shock was eased by Fred who began to giggle, resting his forehead on yours.

“Seriously Y/N… you don’t understand how long I’ve wanted that to happen” Fred confessed, butterflies rising once again in your stomach.

“Me too” you grinned, pulling his head down for another kiss.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley oneshot #george weasley imagine #fred weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #fred weasley smut #weasley twins #weasley twins smut #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #weasley twins x reader

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americancowgirl19 · 3 years

Text

So Much More

Summary: Riley finds his mate in the most unexpected place. Within the coven he had tried to destroy.

Warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive parts but nothing explicit or too detailed

Reader: Plus Sized Gender Neutral Reader. I tried to make this gender neutral. There’s no pronouns for the user and I tried to make the descriptions as gender neutral as possible so I apologize if the reader seems more feminine.

Pairings: Riley Biers x Plus Sized Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 1,942

A/n: This was a request by a anon: Would you please do a Riley biers plus size human Cullen imagine please? Where he escapes and they are mates and it ends happy and the reader is sassy. I hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist - Part Two (Yours Forever - Female Reader) - Part Three (Our Little Family - Female Reader)

Riley screamed for Victoria but she never came. Her need for revenge consumed her as she abandoned him in an attempt to get to the human, Bella. He didn’t have time to feel betrayed and upset, those emotions would have to wait.

The wolf that had him in his jaws sunk his teeth even deeper into his marble shoulder. Riley screams in agony. He uses his one good hand to punch the wolf. The wolf release him for a second to readjust his grip. Riley knew the would go for his neck next and needed to act quickly.

Riley narrowly avoids the snap of the wolf’s jaws. He spins around and kicks its rips. The wolf whimpers as it falls in the snow. Riley stands and sends another kick to the head before the wolf could get up. He could hear the wolf’s heartbeat signaling that he had just knocked him out. His instinct told him to kill the wolf but the flight response was beginning to overpower his fight.

He could hear the cackling of fire and another heartbeat. He knew Victoria was the one burning in the snow. He also knew he wouldn’t be able to fight off the mind reader. Grabbing his broken off hand, Riley fleas the scene.

When he feels as if he’s a safe distance from the fight, Riley reattaches his arm. His would heal but leave his throat blazing in hunger. He stumbles upon a home in the middle for he woods. He hears a heartbeat inside.

Silently, Riley enters the home. Music plays loudly from one of the bedrooms. Riley checks the house and finds that the human upstairs is all alone. Soundlessly, Riley speeds to the upper-level and comes to a stop just outside the closed door.

The scent of the human inside flows from under the door. Riley’s eyes close and he inhales sharply. He’s never smelt something so sweet, so intoxicating. He hears footsteps coming towards him. He makes a split second decision. By the time the door opens, he’s nowhere in sight.

He doesn’t understand it. He’s unbearable hungry. Yet, when he had the perfect opportunity, he hesitated and fled. He didn’t stop running until he was in the small town of Forks. A couple of unfortunate souls falling victim to his ravenous hunger.

He knew this was Cullen territory and now he’s had a taste of their power. He knew they could tear him apart. The logical plan was to leave and never come back. He had to get as far away from here as possible but he stayed.

That scent clouded his mind. He didn’t even know who it belonged too. When it occurred to him that he didn’t even know what the human looked like he was overcome by the urge to find out. He needed to know.

This lead him to sticking around. He prayed the Cullen’s didn’t know. He kept his head on a swivel and kept moving around. He hunted discretely and never drew attention to himself.

He stayed around Forks for a couple of months before he smelt the scent again. This time, it’s wasn’t muffled by a door. The smell almost knocked him off balance. His feet followed it before his brain could comprehend what was happening.

Then he saw you. You were as beautiful as you were intoxicating. He wondered if your skin was as soft as if looked. He imagined what your lips would feel like against his. He felt as if cupid took the time to shoot him with an arrow as he stared at you with that human, Bella, that Victoria was obsessed with.

Then his eyes fell to your stomach and hips. By God, his mouth watered at the sight of you. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around you. He wanted to touch you all over. He wanted to grip your love handles and kiss every inch of skin. He smirks as he imagines you on a bed covered in bite marks and hickies.

He wanted to worship your body. Everything about you drew him in. Once he was able to push past what your body did to him, he began to wonder who you were. Were you kind and compassionate? Did you have a dark and dangerous side? He was desperate to find out.

He followed you and Bella for a while. He knew Bella would recognize him. He needed to get you alone but she just wouldn’t leave. But when she did, he moved in.

“Oh, I’m sorry, wasn’t watching where I was going,” Riley apologizes as he ‘accidentally’ bumps into you. A jacket covers his freezing arms and glasses hide his ruby eyes. Thankfully it was bright out despite it being cloudy so he didn’t stick out too badly.

“Oh, no problem,” You assure him. Riley became desperate to hear you talk more.

“I’m Riley,” He introduces himself praying you didn’t know who he really was.

“Y/n,” You reply, shaking his gloved hand. He smirks, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it.

“You here with friends or something?” He asks looking around. His eyes quickly bounce back to you unable to look away for long.

“Uh, yeah, my friend just went to the bathroom”

“Oh, well, can I buy you a drink while you wait for them?” Riley asks hoping to have some more time with you. However, it doesn’t work out like he hoped.

“Y/n!” Bella shouts, strutting up to you quickly. “Get away from him,” She roughly grabs your arm and pulls you back. Riley can’t help but grow threateningly. He didn’t like her handling you so roughly.

“Bella! Let go,” You grumble, ripping your arm from her.

“That’s Riley,” Bella tells you. “The one Victoria turned,” She explained. You turn back to him and he gives a shrug not denying it.

“Is that why you’ve been following us all day?” You ask him. His eyebrows raise, impressed you had caught him. “Because you wanted to get Bella?”

“No,” He shakes his head. “Because I want to know you.” He tells you. He takes his glasses off, unashamedly staring into your eyes without the glasses as a barrier. “You caught my eye and you simply look too... ravishing to not know,” He flirts.

“What can I say?” You shrug trying to control the blush. “I’m a snack,” Riley smirk broadly.

“How about that drink?” He asks you, tilting his head. He continues to smirk coyly at you.

“Y/n, don’t,” Bella whispers. “We should go back.” She states eyeing Riley uncertainly.

“Sure,” You nod, accepting Riley’s invitation. You had meant to agree with Bella but something about Riley made you want to go with him. You grew up with vampires so you knew it wasn’t his vampiric attractiveness that drew you in. It was something else that caught your attention, something specifically... Riley.

“No, let’s go,” Bella says, trying to keep you safe. She didn't trust Riley. Hell, last time she saw him he was trying to kill her. The last thing she wanted was for you to go off with him and have him kill you.

“I’m sorry, I don’t take orders.” You snap at Bella.

“I’m sure I can change that,” Riley flirts more. You blush madly, this time there’s no controlling it. The purr in his voice sends a shiver down your smile and desperately makes you want to palm your pants but you restrain yourself.

Bella rolls her eyes and her attitude that you’ve been dealing with all day finally makes you snap. You liked Bella but you liked Bella in small doses. At this point, you’ve had enough of her to last a year.

“Keep rolling your eyes. Maybe you’ll find a brain back there,” You snarked.

“Carlisle won’t like this,” Bella warns.

“Carlisle doesn’t have to know,” You says, giving her a warning look. You grew up with the Cullens. By now, you know how to keep certain thoughts private from Edward but evading Alice’s visions are a little trickier. You just hope that she isn’t seeing this.

“Fine, be that way, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Bella says, eyeing Riley once again.

“I’d tell you to go to Hell but I don’t want you stinking up my home,” You spit back before walking across the street to the nearest bar. Riley is quick to follow behind you. “I’m big, Riley Biers, I hope you can keep up” You try to flirt.

He smirks at you. Your breath hitches when his hands don’t hesitate to grab you meaty hips. He slams your back against the outside wall of the bar with just enough force to turn you on. He growls lowly and dips his head into your neck. He takes a deep whiff of your scent.

“I look forward to it,” He growls, his voice an octave lower than normal. “I hope you taste as delicious as you look,” He growls in your ear. His hands give your juicy curves another squeeze before he steps back. “After you,” He winks, opening the door for you.

You should have known that blabbermouth Bella wouldn’t be able to keep a secret. By the time you got home, all the Cullens knew about you and Riley. The only ones that seemed remotely happy was Esme and Alice. Carlisle looked conflicted but wasn’t rude nor mean like Edward.

“What were you doing spending the day with Riley Biers? Do you know how dangerous he is?” Edward growls the minute you enter the room. You sigh looking at Bella.

“You do know what they say about snitches, right?” You ask, tilting your head. Your insinuation causes Edward to growl menacingly. He only takes two steps forward before he’s thrown across the room and you’re pushed behind someone. “Riley,” You breathe in surprise.

He had followed you home. He didn’t know how the Cullen’s would behave if they knew about your day together. He smirked when he heard your comment to Bella but it disappeared when Edward appeared threatening to you.

He acted upon instinct. One second he was watching from a distance and the next he was in the middle of the room protecting you. He knew he was out numbered but he realized it didn’t matter. He’d take on the world to make sure you were safe.

Instantly everyone’s on edge. Edward stands back up and hisses at him. Riley hisses back, holding his arm behind him as if to assure himself that you’re safe. Before things can escalate, Alice moves between the two of them. In order to ensure her safety, Jasper moves with her. His eyes glare at Riley and Edward, daring either of them to even go near Alice.

“He’s not going to hurt anyone, especially, Y/n. You know that, Edward” Alice tells him. “I know you’ve read his mind. All he wants is to protect Y/n. They’re mates, I’ve seen it.”

“Wait, mates?” You question. Riley relaxes slightly when Edward does. Riley then turns to you looking unsure but hopeful. You offer him a small smile. “I look nothing like Victoria... but hopefully you still like me,”

“You’re right, you’re nothing like her.” Riley tells you. His hand raises to cup the side of your face. “You’re everything she’s not. You’re electrifying. You awaken emotions, instincts, in me that I didn’t know I had. You’re everything I could ever want...” His hands both graze over your luscious curves. You have a moment of insecurity that’s washed away when you see the hunger in his eyes. He lips his lips and pulls you close. “And so much more,” He whispers.

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itstimetotheorize · 3 years

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The Signal Towers forever unfinished meal, a sudden loss in control

We have always theorized that the tower eats the souls of the viewers until they are left as nothing more than empty husks who are ready to take their own lives. The viewers... are forever meant to be lost within the tvs perfect false world, until they are fated to pay the ultimate price for their viewership, the price being of course... their bodies and souls!

Fans have always suspected that the bodies of the viewers were sucked through the tvs in order to be added to the giant flesh mass within the tower, However, later on, many of us began to speculate that the viewers might have only been added to the body of a much larger creature and that the giant eyes seen near the end of the game were never part of the various viewers within the pale city, these giant eyes...could very well have been an entity of their own!

If this mass of flesh and eyes was the true culprit behind the destruction of the pale city then perhaps despite its many victims, the thin man was the one exception to its hunger. Due to its reliance on the thin mans powers, many of us had assumed that the eye chose to keep him locked away deep within its many layers of walls, halls, stairs and rooms in an effort to corrupt his mind and force him to do its terrible bidding .

And yet something doesn't make sense...of all the enemies that were seen throughout the game, the thin man was the only one shown with a thin and frail body. The hunter, the teacher, the doctor and the viewers were all quite fat when compared to the thin man, but why? Everyone within the city was fated to be fattened and distorted until the time came for them to be consumed by the tower, so why was the thin man the only one who was so... thin?!....unless....his fate was not much different than theirs.....but still different in its own way...

Where am I gong with this?... well, when we see thin man, he is noted to spend the majority of his life sitting in a tiny room somewhere deep within the tower.

As thin man ages over time, several of us began to notice something odd, something that was so obvious to begin with that we didn't even bother to question it at the time....The tiny room that held the thin man prisoner... may not have been just a room!...but else could it have been?

well, before monos power was used to restore the eye entity to its original tower form, the area he was trapped in was technically still nothing more that a part of its body!.

Considering that mono fell deep within the depths of towers flesh, this room could very well have been symbolized to not only be monos life long prison...but a space that would forever remain empty...a space that could never be filled by just anyone. If we think of the tower as a body with its own organs in the form of different rooms, then what if the tiny room we saw mono imprisoned in...was symbolized to be the Towers own stomach!.

Many of us had originally theorized that perhaps the thin mans energy and soul were no exception to the eye entities wrath. If this is true then this would mean that unlike the rest of the viewers who were forced to wait until their time came to be fully consumed by the eye, the thin man was forever doomed to be slowly eaten away by the tower as his power was used to send out its transmission to the rest of the world!. If the room is truly the towers stomach then this would mean that with each passing year, the tower slowly ate away a little more of the thin mans body and soul, until eventfully, he became nothing more than the thin, frail old man that we saw him as in the game. The thin man...may have been truly trapped within “the belly of the beast” this entire time!

However, unlike the rest of its victims, its possible that the eye restrained itself from adding the thin man to its fleshy body, why exactly would it do that? because it needs the thin man to continue living of course!. It is the thin mans power that allows it to spread its hypnotic spell throughout the tvs of the world

So then, what if unlike the rest of its victims, the eye looked upon the thin man not as a dish that should be eaten whole, but rather as a meal that should never be finished! After all, If it is to continue in its never ending desire to feast upon the world, then it needs the thin man to exist and allow its vicious cycle of consumption to continue. Rather than leave the thin man to the same fate as the other residents of the world, the eye could very well have chosen to throw a piece of him up, out of its stomach and back out into the world in order to feast upon his newly born flesh and soul over and over again, that newly born form being of course...MONO.... and as he continues to relive a new life outside the tower, the one piece of his “remains” continues to suffer within the tower itself.

Yes, it truly seems as though nothing can stop this horrific force of flesh and eyes, the world is forever there to be consumed by it, through the use of others.... nothing can ever hope to stand in its way, it is in control …or is it?....

On April 1, 2021, the twitter page became increasingly active , however, it was not acting like its normal hauntingly scary self as it presented a “new game”

Naturally this was supposed to be an April fools joke to the public. However, despite this, many fans began to question why the twitter needed to act as someone else... just to present a joke? it could have very easily done this with out changing its tone.

As the day went on and as we continued to view a variety of goofy replies, something bizarre occurred, once April fools day came to a close.

The original twitter page was coming back!... but something felt off... rather than take back the twitter page to its original form, it was almost as if it was struggling to take back the account from some foreign entity. For those that do not have a twitter page or have gone through every single comment on the account, you should know that many of us have come to realize that the holder of the account could very well have been the flesh void within the tower, in other words, the twitter page was a representation of the eye entity itself communicating with the public!

As April fools ended, the original twitter page took back control of the account...albeit in an a horrifying manner.

Naturally, the strangeness didn't end just then and there, of all the things to say to the public to explain the sudden and bizarre change in the twitter accounts activity, the original twitter page simply stated that a “rogue signal” interfered with its communication.

Despite the fans delight in welcoming back the original twitter and being done with April fools, the twitter decided to instead continue with the recipe contest in an effort to select a winner. As the contest ended the twitter revealed to everyone that it had taken everyones joke recipes and had tried them out for itself. In an ironic turn of events, the twitters favorite dish was revealed to be a mono’s soup!...what's most peculiar about its choice of dish was how it commented that this soup was “Nearly as good as eating the real mono”!

If the twitter page is a representation of the eye entity within the tower and if the tower is truly feasting upon the viewers of the world... then does this mean that the thin man is also just another part of its meal?...maybe..... And I know what you are thinking, “this was just an April fools joke, just something to make fun at”...but what if it wasn't?...ever since the release of little nightmares 2, the twitter page began to hint at certain details of the game in the form of cryptic messages.

The twitter page has even stated to us, on multiple occasions, that it lives to make us suffer, it is the one who is in control and we are nothing more than soon to be residents of its world that will be infected with escapism,

There is no way of escape....and yet... how was it that a “rogue signal” was capable of interfering with its control? unless....something BIG interfered!?.... but who or rather what could have possibly been powerful enough to resist or even fight against the eyes control? Of all the times to present such a struggle for control, why chose now?.... unless....has their been a shift in power within the little nightmares world?... If so, then what the heck is it, or rather, what caused it!? We may not know what it was right now, but something lead the eye entity to lose its grip on the false reality it had maintained for thousands of years......was it mono?... or is it something that has just entered the range of the pale city?..... I guess we will just have to wait and see...for now that’s just a theory, a little nightmares II theory!

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whimsicallywayward15 · 3 years

Text

Kinktober 2021, Day - 7: Trust.

A/n: Hi everyone! This is probably the first time I'm posting a Kinktober fanfic without being in a hurry. Although my internet is definitely being a bitch to me right now. But anyways, I bring you some Belphie smut today 😉.

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Pairing: Belphegor/Main Character (Ariadne Kondos)

Rating: Explicit (18+ Audiences)

Content Tags: Breath Play, Choking, Fluff and Smut, Vaginal Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut

Summary: MC (Ariadne Kondos) wants Belphegor to choke her. It's as simple as that.

Prompt: Corruption | Breath Play | Somnophilia

Word Count: 1,352

Note: Find the prompt list I am following here.

AO3 Link

Belphegor pulled back from their naked cuddles and stared at the blonde human in bewilderment. Just months ago, he had tried to murder her in front of his brothers. By the same method that she was now suggesting for them to try out in bed. Honestly, he thought that him being bewildered at the suggestion was a huge understatement.

“Are you sure?” The demon asked, eyebrows arched up in concern. He could neither make out a head nor a tail of the situation he found himself in. Yes, he enjoyed the concept. However, after what had happened, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared. They may have had a bad start. But now, he loved her more than anything. Ever since her entry in the Devildom, she had made a huge difference in their lives. She was always looking out for them, looking after them. She was the reason his family had grown closer than ever.

Ariadne stretched and lazily smiled at him from where she had been lying on the bed in the attic where they had first met. It was enough to get his heart racing. Dear lord… She never failed to take his breath away whenever she smiled like that. The woman was already a stunner on a regular day. But her, lying on his bed in all her naked glory? She was a sight to behold. All softness, curves and feminine. She was sex personified and even the Avatar of Lust agreed to that.

“Mmm… come back, Belphie. It’s cold.” She whined, spreading her arms for the demon to fall back into. With how adorable she looked, he couldn’t help but do just that, burying his face in the softness of her chest, making her giggle as his breath tickled her sensitive skin. “You are worried about losing control like last time, aren't you?” She asked in a soft voice, her fingers combing through his soft hair. At the mention of the incident, the Avatar shuddered. He still had nightmares of her dead body in Mammon’s arms.

“Look at me.” And he did. “Do you really think I would’ve suggested it if I didn’t have trust in your ability to control yourself? You weren’t yourself that night, Belphie. You were consumed by your anger over what happened with you beloved sister and with you all. And you had no clue that Lilith had lived a happy life with her lover after almost dying.” She stated. “I will never really fault Lucifer for what he did; I understand his point of view. But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand yours either, love.” She continued, kissing his hair affectionately.

“I trust you, Belphie.”

“You know? I will forever be glad about whatever we did to deserve your love and affection.” He mumbled into her chest.

She smiled into his hair. “The feeling’s mutual.” And with that, she kissed his temple. “But you haven’t given me a conclusive answer on my suggestion.” She pulled back to say, her voice changing to a lower tone, making his cock harden almost immediately. She smirked at the spontaneous effect. “Seems like someone has a voice kink, amongst others~” The woman remarked slyly, a hand reaching down to grip his erection. He groaned at the sensation before looking at her with pure lust and raw hunger. Looking into his eyes, she noticed how dark his pupils had become, blown wide until the colour of his irises was nothing but a thin ring.

She gulped, knowing that the tables would soon be turned on her. And she couldn’t wait for it to happen.

Belphegor, having realised that his human was burning with anticipation, decided to play with her a little. He lightly pushed her until she was lying on her back before moving up her body. He then leaned in as if to kiss her, only to pull back in the nick of time. “Fuck you, Belphie.” She cursed at him. And that when he kissed her like he meant to, taking her completely by surprise. The demon’s tongue rolled against her plush bottom lip before nipping and tugging at it. She gasped, giving him the opening he needed to slip his wet muscle inside her mouth. The feeling of their tongues sliding against each other had them both groaning.

Meanwhile, their hands trailed across each other’s bare bodies as if it was their first time. They took their time, rediscovering every place that made the other gasp and moan, arousing them further. This continued until both were a debauched mess and the woman was downright begging him to fuck her into the next day.

He smirked at her wanton behaviour, wanting to play with her just a little more. And he would have, had he not been desperate for a release himself. “I’m not gonna be gentle, doll. But something makes me wanna believe you don’t want it to be gentle anyway~” He sang smugly, grinding his erect member against her dripping pussy, coating it in her leaking juices. She gripped her shoulders tight, nails digging into his skin, when the head nudged her throbbing clit.

“Fuck, Belphie! Please please please! I need you! Need to feel you!” She chanted, not giving a damn if it was even comprehensible or not. All she could think about was having that girthy dick of his plundering her cunt while his hand choked her. She had already dreamt about the scenario a hundred times. Why not enjoy it for real this time?

Deciding that she had been teased and played with enough, the Seventh-born moved to line his leaking shaft with her entrance before driving home in a single thrust with how wet she was from all of the foreplay they had just engaged in. He groaned at how tight she was and she moaned and let out a string of curses as he hit that one spot that made her see stars. When she tried to wind her arms around his neck to pull him closer, he caught them with one hand. “Keep them to yourself or I will leave you exactly like this. Needy and wanton and naked.” He warned her, putting her hands above her head. Then, he started rolling his hips at a slow pace and all she could feel was pleasure.

But soon, that slow pace wasn’t enough for her as she started bucking her hips, meeting him halfway, thrust for every thrust. Belphegor took the hint and began to build up the pace, still keeping his thrusts deep however. Meanwhile, balancing himself on one hand, he moved his other one to grip her throat. Not too tightly, but enough for her breathing to be slightly hindered. The feeling of his huge hand choking her lightly, she clenched hard. That caused the pitch of his grunts and moans to increase, the friction just too damn good and he brought closer to his imminent climax. His woman was truly very kinky. He wondered what else she’d like to try out in bed.

However, his train of thought was interrupted by the woman herself. “C-Close… Gonna… Gonna co-” Before she could even finish her sentence, her orgasm hit her with the force of freight train, making her toes curl and cunt clench. A string of expletives, mixed with a whispered chant of his name, left her soft lips as he continued to thrust into her, extending her orgasm before the clenching of her walls got too much for him and he finished inside her, biting her shoulder.

“Fuck.” Ariadne breathed out once she had finally settled down after her explosive orgasm.

The Avatar of Sloth hummed in agreement as he pulled out his softened member, making them both whine at the loss of contact. “You can say that again, doll. Never took you to be this kinky.” His comment made her giggle breathlessly.

“Well, there’s still time before we would be required downstairs for dinner, y’know~” She replied slyly, making a show of wiggling her perfect eyebrows.

Those words were all she got out before the demon pounced on her once again.

DM me or comment if you want to be tagged in future posts!

#obey me belphegor #belphegor obey me #belphegor avatar of sloth #obey me belphegor smut #belphegor x mc #obey me game #obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #kinktober #obey me fanfic #obey me writing

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starcloud-nova · 3 years

Note

Favorite fics by some of your buddies on Tumblr and Discord?

God nonnie. You fucked up big time. You underestimated just how hard I can appreciate my friends. I’d like to formally apologize for how long and in-depth this got, but I would pick a stopping point and then go ‘oh! but i cant leave out so-and-so’ and then this got mega out of hand.

Organized by author and not genre! And if I didn’t include any of your works (or I did and it was not the one you wanted), please, don’t take it personally. I am trusting everyone who comes across this post to read the tags themselves, but for two of the fics I have left TWs in front of them.

Cassia’s fics:

Internet Enemies by @cassiopeia721 (x)

At school, Midoriya Izuku is ignored at best. At home, he's raised by a single mother who seems to be always taking night shifts, and who he communicates with almost exclusively through notes on lunch boxes and texts lying about his location. As such, Midoriya Izuku turns to the internet— or more specifically, an All Might fan server on discord— for companionship. Like most things in his life, it goes wrong eventually. It just takes longer than usual.

hypnic jump

Izuku finds himself somewhere he doesn't recognize in an oversized green jumpsuit with a hero he's never seen at his back. He's pretty sure he's dreaming, and subsequent events only solidify that theory into rock-solid certainty.

Paradigm Shift (Harry Potter)

Harry undergoes a paradigm shift at the beginning of his fifth year. (Slytherin Harry)

~~~

Kestrel’s fics:

Compass by @autisticmidoriyas (x)

Midoriya Izuku never had the chance to become a hero—or even to grow up. Fifteen years after his death, Akatani Izuku tries to save the life of a dying hero and in return receives a target painted on his back and a power humming in his bones.

All Might, Sir Nighteye, Ground Zero, Suneater, and Skyquake are left scrambling in the wake of Lemillion’s death to figure out who now holds One For All.

Intertwined with all this, the League of Villains’ war against Japan burns on. With the loss of Lemillion, the advantage is now theirs, and with the loss of One For All, victory is all-but-assured.

(What the villains don’t know is that One For All lives on in the blood of a boy who was always meant to be a hero.)

triskelion

A few seconds, and their lives—their life—is changed forever. Where three people used to exist, there is now only one.

While visiting the mall with their class, Izuku, Katsuki, and Shouto are the victims of someone whose quirk can fuse together objects … and people.

Permanently.

Facing down the fact that they may never be unfused, a long adjustment period lies ahead of them as they learn how to be themself and figure out where they fit into their families, their class, and their world.

the meaning of hope

One day, the smoke will reach its end. They hold out hope for that. Even with quirks, fires cannot burn forever. They will consume all their fuel, until there is nothing left, and they will wither and die.

~~~

Lilly’s fics:

Rise of the Rat Finks by Authoress_Lilly

“You're not in trouble Neito. You’ve been tapped to join The Rats.”

The boy blinks. “The what?”

Vlad opens up a folder and hands Monoma a flyer and a small pin in the shape of a rat. “It’s a sort of secret society here at UA.

Or: an excuse to put Monoma and Midoriya together in way too many words 😅

The Root to Villainy

Prompt: Izuku doesn't realize how fucked up his past was until Aizawa does an immersive class on villain origins.

Whoops?

~~~

Dance’s fics:

Never Take Your Problem Children To Costco by DanceInTheKitchen

“SECURE THE EGGS! I REPEAT SECURE THE EGGS!” Bakugou bellowed.

“YES SIR! AYE AYE SIR!” Izuku saluted.

Shouta is staring at his students, one of whom seems to be reenacting the Lion King with a carton of eggs while the other salutes him, and wonders. What the hell did he do in his past life to deserve this?? Past him must have committed some great sin, like putting sugar in his coffee, or being a dog person.

Or, Aizawa, Bakugou and Midoriya walk into a Costco.

grow as we go

The dorms were silent, but out here in the open air, she felt both isolated and free. Isolated from the world, but free from the responsibility crushing her, isolated from her friends and family, but free from judgement. Up here, with only the stars and Iida as company, Momo felt like she could breathe.

They sat next to each other in silence, watching the stars silently crawl their way across the sky. Iida doesn’t break the silence, but he also doesn’t leave. It’s a silent promise, to listen if she needs it, or to keep her company if she doesn’t want to speak. It’s comforting.

She’s not sure when she speaks, it’s somewhere between staring up at the stars, and looking at the shiny dew covering the grass of the hills behind UA.

“I’m not ready.”

Or, with graduation right around the corner, Momo has a conversation with Iida about what growing up means.

~~~

Azure’s fics:

A Helping Hand for All by azureskyy

Izuku doesn't know why everyone's talking about a certain hero analyst online. He's tried browsing through the forums and other sites, but he just can't find the person they're talking about.

Maybe he'll ask them later. For now, he has some analysis to do.

Or: Izuku is a well-known hero and quirk analyst across multiple social media platforms.

Not that he's aware of it, of course.

A Missed Chance

Two paths cross then diverge. In another universe, perhaps, they could have walked on the same path; they could have talked for the second time that day, and Izuku could have been given an opportunity that could change his entire life. And maybe, just maybe, he would have taken it.

But this isn’t that universe.

Or: What if All Might wasn't able to find Izuku after the Sludge Villain Incident?

~~~

Alice’s fics:

A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by @makeitbluue (x)

“Did you think you’d be safe from me forever? That you could chip away at my power base and I would not care or try to hunt you down?” The man asks as he steps forwards.

Izuku scrambles backwards in his bed, searching the covers as he goes for his phone. If he can get a text off to All Might or Aizawa-sensei he can alert people to the potential danger.

But even as he moves, something in the back of his mind tells him he had heard this voice before. A different time, a different context, but the same voice.

~~~

Ely’s fics:

bend and break by @queenangst (x)

In a world where you can feel your soulmate's pain, Eijirou spends a lot of his life up until meeting his soulmate hurting.

draw and quarter

In District Twelve, no one volunteers.

When Aizawa Shouta’s name is called, no one says a word. He stands there for a moment, feeling all the world slow around him, and then he straightens his shoulders and walks to his death.

He will die fighting. At the very least, Shouta can promise that.

Shouta's name is drawn for the Hunger Games, alongside Shirakumo Oboro. No one from their district has ever won.

damage control

After All for One's defeat, Aizawa Shouta is grasping for ways to protect his students. At the same time, a discrepancy in Midoriya's behavior leads Shouta down a dangerous line of investigation and to a single question: if Midoriya is the U.A. traitor.

Between the Wind and the Water

Staying at U.A. for winter break, Izuku hopes it'll be a quiet chance to spend the holidays with Todoroki and supervising teachers All Might and Aizawa-sensei.

It's just his luck a gift-shopping trip turns into a gift from a villain, and Izuku's new Half-Cold, Half-Hot Quirk is not so easy to control. Neither are the secrets he's been carefully keeping.

a glimpse of tomorrow (looking back)

Subject: Aldera Time Capsule Ceremony Forwarded Message— This year marks ten years for the Aldera Middle School graduating class of 20XX.To celebrate, we would like to invite pro heroes Kingpin and Deku, Aldera alumni, to participate in a public time-capsule opening. We are incredibly proud to have helped them on their journeys to becoming heroes, and would be most honored to receive them as guests and for them to speak at the ceremony. [...]

"Well," Deku says, leaning over to turn the monitor towards him. His eyes flick over the contents of the email one more time. "If they haven't changed, then I guess we could return the favor."

Ten years down the line, Bakugou and Midoriya are invited to a time capsule ceremony at their middle school to read letters from their past selves, and look back on their past and how it shaped their future. For anyone else, it would have been a celebration.

For the two of them, it's an opportunity.

A look into Bakugou and Midoriya's past—through a future neither of them imagined—as pro heroes, agency partners, and friends.

of the mighty heart

It was just complicated. Kacchan had changed. Izuku had changed. What was between them was constant—Kacchan was always there—but even constants, Izuku supposed, could change, too.

...You saved me, sometimes you say Deku and it doesn’t sound so much like an insult, you say it like you mean it, you say it like you mean me.

After the war ends and the dust settles, Izuku is left in pain and feeling useless. There's still so much to do and people to save, and it's just... too much for one person.

And then there's Kacchan.

~~~

Fawn’s fics:

Bough Breaks by @fawnvelveteen (x) (trigger warning for discussion of rape/noncon)

In life, nothing is certain. Pro-heroes aren’t always the good guys. Children are not spared from the darkest realms of humanity. Izuku isn't acting like his normal self at school lately, and his homeroom teacher has taken notice. After learning about the mother’s new, unwelcomed boyfriend, Aizawa’s concern shifts into dread. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep his student away from harm.

Almost Moon (trigger warning for suicide) (Black Clover)

It was always at night. One of Noelle's squadmates, apparently, believes it's a good idea to walk across the rooftop, directly over her head while she is trying to get some sleep. Finally, she decides to confront the nighttime nuisance. What she discovers is something she never expected, nor did she wish to see.

~~~

Nez’s fics:

The True Successor by @neko-nez (x)

Toshinori is caught in a time loop.

~~~

Aodh’s fics:

new game + (the pros of being over-leveled, the catharsis of finally beating That One Boss, and a bonus social link) by @takeyamayuu (x)

Izuku hasn’t been noticed yet, being as far from the fight as he is. Or if he has, they’re dismissing him in favor of the larger threat of Aizawa-sensei. As they should, since he takes out the last one with a well placed kick, turning to face Shigaraki,

Izuku tenses, this is-

This is where his teacher’s arm is injured and then-

The Nomu.

One for All spikes to around fifty percent, his muscles stinging, bones creaking as Izuku darts forward, aiming for Shigaraki’s head with an axe-kick.

Second year Midoriya Izuku gets hit with a Quirk, skids into the USJ, and learns a little about self-care along the way.

~~~

Ghost’s fics:

fingerpaint bruises and a kick in the teeth by @ghoststrawberries (x)

There’s a sour taste in Shouta’s mouth as he stares at Jackrabbit’s bright smile. The smile he’s wearing in every clear photo of him. It somewhat reminds Shouta of All Might’s smile.

Jackrabbit might be a menace to the Commission, but there’s no way Shouta can believe that a man with that smile is anything less than good to his core.

“And I’m your last resort to handle this quietly.” He says knowingly, keeping his thoughts to himself.

“Precisely.”

Shouta’s gut response is to refuse.

The words “I don’t kill.” are halfway up his throat before they become stuck.

As an underground hero, sometimes Shouta Aizawa is called upon to do darker jobs than one might expect a hero to have to do. This time, when he's tasked with taking out a vigilante who's managed to bother the Hero Public Safety Commission one too many times, he's not sure he'll be able to follow through.

~~~

Amira’s fics:

And Now I See Daylight by @awake-my-oceans (x)

AnalysisOverload Current mood: HERO CON HERO CON HERO CON HERO CON

AnalysisOverload reblogged AnalysisOverload Okay, let’s talk HeroCon.

Look around, and you’ll see a lot of discrimination—against people whose Quirk is debilitating, against people whose Quirks scare us, against people who have trouble controlling their Quirk, against people who don’t have a Quirk at all. It’s easy to feel alone in a sea of discrimination.

Enter HeroCon:X.

A social media fic following Deku post-graduation.

The chaotic neutral’s guide to time travel

“You claim you are from the future,” Nedzu said, hopping onto his desk. “Do you have anything to prove this?”

Hitoshi fished around in his pocket. “Here’s my hero license,” he said, holding it up.

Nedzu opened his mouth, but Hitoshi kept right on going, producing a handful of odds and ends from his pocket. “Also a movie ticket, some dryer lint, some, uh, didn’t know I still had that but it’s old gum—“

That was when Aizawa walked in, capture weapon floating around him. “What’s the emergency?” he asked, clipped, as he kicked open the door.

“—and the left arm of a Deku plushie,” Hitoshi finished, unruffled. “My cat ate the rest.”

~~~

Aaaaaand that’s all I got. Thanks for making it to the end!

#bnha #bnha fic #fic rec #fic rec list #fic rec masterpost #nova talks #all my friends in one post. sniffle #most of em anyway #not sure what to tag this so. ill hit send!#forgot too tag this as an ask rip #anonymous #ask

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dirtycccat · 3 years

Text

things that remind you of them w the demon bros+ (un)dateables

highkey tw for some unhealthy behaviors and uhhhhh maybe sensitive stuff idk just keep that in mind

lucifer

an impromptu orchestra concert in an abandoned church. a forgotten off key piano found at the back of an antique shop. tradition worth more than luxury.

the crackling of fire. glittering glasses of wine. changing a vinyl with naked hands, brushing the dust off its hard body. a cold hand touching the back of your neck in passing. whispered words of affection in the ear of your sleeping beloved.

running on air. falling with your lungs full of fire. trying to rebel against fate, against the inevitable moment the ground will break your bones for trying to cheat the laws of nature and its gods.

the heavy weight of perfection bending you backwards. counting down the moments until it will finally break you. measuring your worth in work, in being good at, in being useful, in being needed.

sticking up with family, with rules, with loyalty despite your own desires. acting like you’re the first but always putting yourself second.

being afraid to dare to be selfish and to love. being scared of your own devouring passions. waiting for your beloved to take the first step and running the whole way to finally meet them.

mammon

the fluttering of wings in the silence of a white september afternoon. a sea of crows watching your every move from atop a nearby building. finding a black feather on the ground and keeping it in your pocket for good luck.

the friction between leather seats and leather jackets. heavy cologne mixed with the scent of sweat and leather. the purr of a motor. finding a half empty pack of cigarettes in the pocket of your old jacket.

winning second place so many times you’ve given up on first. still dreaming of clawing your way onto the top of the podium sometimes.

the heavy burden of capitalism of having your worth monetized. having to constantly show the word you’re worth something. selling your soul for value.

wanting everything you could never have before. overspending, oversharing, overwhelming. being too much but also never enough.

finally being someone’s number one. strong arms holding you while you cry. a reassuring presence, a constant in your life

leviathan

imposter syndrome. feeling like you’ll never fit in, like you’ll never be good enough.

replacing real life with dreams. looking at life from the outside. living inside your head.

playing games until 3 am on a school/work night. letting your passions consume you. still feeling guilty of not doing anything measured in money or public approval. calling all your hobbies guilty pleasures because you still care about what others think despite appearances.

finding comfort in the solace of the ocean. sitting at the bottom of the pool holding in your breath and your tears. crying in the shower. letting the water wash you clean and reborn.

letting someone in. being accepted for what you are and the little you can offer. vast depths hidden by shallow waters.

satan

rage. pure unfiltered rage. the desire to stand up to authority figures. clenched fists, heavy calming breaths, tightly closed eyes. tears of anger, of not being right, of never being good enough or smart enough.

subtle jabs. heavy sarcasm. veiled ironies. cruel eyes and bloody smiles.

putting your nose in a cat’s fur and smelling home. holding a small being full of love and feeling fulfilled. finally feeling like you want to protect and not just destroy.

having to put a book down after reading a certain line that perfectly described that unknown feeling you’ve had all your life. rereading the same line again and again and feeling the knot in your heart and stomach loosening. knowledge as power turned into knowledge as a way of truly becoming yourself turned into a shelter of understanding guarding you from the anger.

swearing in other languages under your breath. reciting poetry aloud by candlelight while drunk on wine and desire. heavy whispers full of hot meanings in the ear of your lover during dinner in languages spoken only by you two.

finally getting the happy ending you’ve always read about. finding your anchor. being a better you for your beloved. improving and helping each other with their shortcomings. balancing each other.

asmodeus

perfectly done make up that had you wake up 2 hours earlier than the others. using concealer to hide a pimple or any imperfection. pants too tight to walk in. the sound of heels in an empty hallway.

caressing your desire while taking a hot bath. focusing on carnal needs, on your senses, on what you feel, on the present. drunk kisses. flirting with strangers at moonlit bars. red lipstick stains on blushing necks.

drinking a glass too many despite the warning in your head. drinking to forget yourself. drinking to escape your fears, your inhibitions, your shortcomings. drinking to become the perfect you the others always expect to see you as. but also drinking to be selfish and feel good for yourself and yourself only.

the sad knowledge you’ll never be the best ever again. being compared to others and ending up comparing yourself to them. knowing your worst enemy is yourself, but trying to hide that fact with mean jokes and confident airs. feeling afraid of being known, but even more afraid of having no one knowing the real you.

beauty at a price. happiness sold for beauty. cruel beauty that devours its worshippers.

the reassuring hands of a stranger holding your hair as you let it all out, the alcohol and the guilt. crying with your head on the cool toilet porcelain after you came home from a party that you thought would help you escape.

help and love coming from where you least expect it. noticing the little things. noticing the person behind the character.

beelzebub

an unknown hunger gnawing at your insides. trying to fill the empty inside but always choosing the wrong meal.

feeling satisfied after a good meal on a good day, feeling bursting on a bad one. devouring until you can’t. still feeling empty, still needing to fill yourself up but knowing it is useless.

feeling breathless and weightless after a run. being high on adrenaline and feeling like you can do anything. the smell of a sweaty used gym and leather boxing gloves.

falling in love so slow and easy it feels like a meeting in the middle of an already drawn path.

belphegor

living just to pass the time. living for others. living but forgetting how to live. being told to do better, to be better, to just get up and do something.

sleeping in. falling asleep at 6 am after a night of insomnia. hearing the world wake outside when inside you’re just going to bed.

strong emotions with no release. feeling full without escape. dark humor. saying too much, revealing too much, being to much so you hide.

getting away with shit because you’re the smallest and feeling no guilt.

the feel of fresh bedsheets. being covered in a blanket just right. feeling warm and protected in the comfort of your room.

love that comes like a question and an answer. love that feels heavy despite it’s light.

diavolo

a commanding tone bringing silence to a room. respect earned justifying the respect you were born with.

luck of birth. being born with a silver spoon. being sheltered, being always different, being untouched by the world outside and its people.

being born with a burden. accepting your prescribed fate. believing in legends and asking yourself if you’re the hero or the villain of your own story. realizing that life is more complicated than fairytales.

abandoned castles. ivy walls and moss floor. a lit figure at the window of an empty mansion. the creaking of old staircases at night when you’re home alone. feeling like you’re from another time.

a strong hand squeezing your thigh under the table. the reassuring warmth of your lover’s presence in a time of need. being loved and not just desired. finally being touched where it matters.

barbatos

unwavering loyalty. living to serve. giving up on your individuality.

a shadow following you at night while you walk back home. sharp eyes locked onto yours from across the room.

passive aggressiveness. hiding behind a smile. an impenetrable facade of public politeness.

the ennui of knowing too much, of living the same day, of being hungry for a breakthrough. knowledge as a burden but also as a gift.

knowing everything about others but no one knowing anything about you. making small thoughtful gestures that remind others of your deep knowledge of their habits and wants.

finally being noticed and seen for yourself alone. getting the surprise you were craving. being taken care of.

simeon

living different lifetimes through your writing and through books.

the smile of a pretty stranger in the train that will forever visit your dreams.

a handwritten message in cursive on the fridge. a hastily written poem on the back of a receipt.

being the outsider. the watcher. being the director of the play of your life and not the actor.

tea that s just hot enough to warm your insides. falling asleep on an armchair with a book in your hand. sunkissed skin. the softness of summer. the fluttering of invisible wings.

ageless wisdom.

rewriting a cursed tale of history. going against tradition. trying to carve your happy ending. succeeding.

solomon

knowledge coming at the price of youth and life.

a thirst to know. devouring books. staying up until 5 am reading. eyes burning dry. feeling like you’re still not doing enough. head full of little nothings. feeling like you will never know anything however much you try read or learn.

notes in the margins of a book you took from the public library. wondering who is the person behind the words. fleeting attachments to the wrong people for the wrong reasons.

being the outcast. the kid at the back of your class reading a russian novel in the original language underneath the table during math class.

a house in the middle of the woods with smoke coming from its chimney. rituals in the dark. wet moss on your soles, the moon lighting up your eyes. the silence of night on a full moon.

whispering prayers and praises to the earth under your breath as you go. feeling drunk on fire. noticing the magic around you. kissing the earth. finally grasping the knowledge you sold your soul for. asking yourself if it was really worth it and having no answer.

love as an adventure. finally feeling and not thinking. giving up on reason and embracing your heart’s guidance.

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obscureoperations · 3 years

Text

@ashesmoth

This is just a thought. An elaboration of Martin proposing.

The quiet hum of cicadas lulls Martin into a nearly trance-like state. The sun had nearly set, painting the field in a yellowish amber glow. The temperature had dropped quite considerably during the evenings due to the fact it was nearly fall. You had already complained about being chilly, he offered over his jacket without second thought. Goosebumps began to form over his skin, but the warmth inside was overflowing. In his arms, he held the most precious thing in the world to him-- you were speaking, but the words fell on deaf ears.

The ring rests like a led weight in his pocket..he had been eyeing it in the jeweler's shop for months. A thin band of gold with what happened to be your birthstone right in the middle. It wasn’t much, but it was all that he could afford at the moment. Martin had been taking extra shifts at the grocery store. Every time he clocked in, he tried to stave off the voice that assured him you were going to say no. He begged the shop owner to hold it for him-- he’d have the money in a couple of weeks.

The afternoon he actually purchased it, Martin felt sick to his stomach. He had no idea what he was going to say-- how could he possibly put it into words? It was just one simple question--but he felt as though he had to explain himself entirely. In a little over a year you managed to completely change his world. Suddenly, it all made sense--the years of yearning and isolation. The sleepless nights, the ever present hunger threatening to consume him. The moment he laid eyes on you--he could remember everything grew incredibly silent.

The sun had set almost completely, every now and then you would stir in his arms. He’d press his lips to the top of your head-- the scent of your shampoo was intoxicating. So warm and familiar-- faintly mixed with the smell of grass. Each morning he awoke with you curled against his chest he had to wonder what he did to deserve you. You were with him through it all-- living with Cuda,his breakdown right before he actually left. In a way, he realised you were the reason he was still alive. He finally understood that his cousin was actually planning to kill him.

If you had asked him a few years before, Martin would have been perfectly content with letting that happen. He was exhausted, the ever present loneliness seemed to rise with each passing day. The old man would be doing him a favor. But he couldn’t leave just yet. He couldn’t leave you all alone. The way your eyes would light up whenever you saw him-- the joy in your voice whenever the two of you would speak. You were enamoured with him, that much was sure. He only recently accepted the fact that you loved him.

“Martin.. Are you okay?”

The question itself startled him out of his reprieve, heat began to rise to his face. Had you been speaking the entire time? What were you saying? He always managed to mess things up.

He pulls you close nuzzling at the crook of your neck. “Mhmm. Fine. Y/n, I’m sorry. I sorta drifted off.”

“That's okay… Were you looking at the sunset?”

“I was.”

The sound of your laughter always managed to cause his heart to skip a beat. You tilt your head, lips barely grazing his jaw “Good... Martin. It’s what we came out here to see.”

There were times that Martin felt confident around you, most of them were when he held you safely in his arms. Lips moving over yours in a dizzying rhythm as you practically meld against his chest. You actually wanted him. You wanted him to kiss you. He was finally able to do something right. This evening was no different, he effortlessly shifts you onto your back. His kisses become more frantic. He holds you against him as though you might vanish. He only pulls back when you start to shift, tilting your head away from him.

His heart drops, but you suddenly cup his face urging him to look at you. In the faint glow of the nearly departed sun you couldn't describe the expression on his face. His lips were kiss bruised and swollen--there was a nearly dreamy expression in his eyes. That one small little crease between his brow was pronounced, a clear sign that he was distressed. As always you move to kiss him right in the center of his forehead. Martin almost melts against you. You always held him so delicately when he was upset. Palms lightly cupping his cheeks.

But he wasn’t upset, he was filled with more joy than he could possibly handle. That paired with weighted uncertainty. His stomach was in knots--heartbeat threatening to implode. Why did he still continue to doubt you? From his actions-- all things from the past.. It was clear that you were willing to forgive. You only wanted him by your side, yet he couldn’t bear the idea of being rejected by you.

“Martin.. Talk to me babe.. What's wrong?”

Nothing and everything all at once. The ring rests like a lead weight in his pocket. How was he even supposed to bring it up? He settles for moving his lips to your jaw. “Nothing. y/n. I’m fine. I’m just--- I’m really glad we're here.”

You were laughing again, craning your neck up to kiss him. “Yea? Well so am I!”

Something in the playful lilt in your voice soothes some of his frazzled nerves. “I’m just..really glad..” He continues, as he presses his lips to the base of your neck. You tilt your head to kiss him once again… it had to be something about the taste of your chapstick. Perhaps the warm familiarity of your lips. He couldn't imagine a morning not waking up by your side. He had envisioned it, well before the two of you became close-- when you’d wave him goodbye at your doorstep. He would never be content if he didn’t experience one more morning of you waking up in his arms.

The quiet warmth. The way you fit into his arms a bit too perfectly, you didn’t mind his early morning laziness. You seemed to be perfectly content laying there with him until the alarm actually went off.

With a sigh, Martin reaches into his pocket fishing out the ring with an ever practiced stealth. Your lips were still pressed against his jaw, you were rambling again. The warmth of your breath curls against his skin, he resists the urge to kiss you silent. He actually had something to say.

“Y/n...I.”

This gains your attention immediately, your head momentarily lifts from his chest.

“I lik--I love you alot.. You already know that, right?”

“I do.” Your response was instant. Followed by you sinking your teeth into his neck.

Despite his initial gasp, he manages to momentarily draw you away from him. The sun had completely set. He could no longer see your face--it seemed to quell some of his nerves. If anything, he could imagine he was whispering his intentions into the pillow.

He answers your pained sigh with a brief peck on the lips. “y/n… I’m sorry. Please listen?”

“Okay…”

Martin sits forward fishing the ring from his pocket, gently reaching for your wrist. He can hear you gasp as he silently slips the ring onto your finger.

“M-my heart. It’s yours forever if you want it.”

You sit up, frantically brushing the grass from your face.

“Martin.. What is thi-s”

He kisses you sweetly, thumbs lingering at the curve of your jaw. Hearts entwined and buzzing in tune with the various nightlife. The moon was already set high in the sky, you could feel the weight of its unwavering luminescent gaze.

“I want you with me… for the rest of my life. Do you think that you’d marry me sometime?”

#martin 1977 #martin 1978 #Martin Matthias #martin/you #just a thot #wholesome #sfw

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eivorsjawline · 3 years

Text

The Last Day

tw: mention of bloodshed, mental health struggles and alcohol.

*Not the last chapter dont worry, next will be last.

Chapter 9:

Eivor’s POV

I tend to reminisce on the past, my parents, Sigurd, the clan and the times when my family was whole. With the cold whip of the wind and the iridescent reflections in the sky, Norway will forever be my home. Even distant England holds a place within my heart as well as the family I built there. The answer to my hunger lies within myself and whether or not to go back to what I know or stay by the woman beside me. A choice between my honor and the person who I’ve grown to love the most. Though time keeps changing constantly, the recent past loops repeatedly in my head. These days I find myself staring at the walls, the ceiling and the emptiness around me. The dark realization that I have no purpose here, or do I? Life was peaceful but I missed the blade of my ax, I missed the bloodshed. I spent my whole life achieving greatness in what I knew, It was what I was bred for. There was an unspoken oath I took the day I was removed from my mother's womb.

A feeling of guilt always succeeded me, every passing day. What exactly I left behind and what the consequences would be. I have to remind myself that I would have died if It wasn’t for Y/n saving me. I understand now that the technologies that I have here were needed for my survival. Just herbs, alcohol and bandages wouldn’t have been enough to stop the life-threatening wounds I had. I was beaten, bruised and cut so badly I was nearly in a comatose state of mind. Even now, I still get flashbacks to that day and the fight. As a drengr, I’ve grown more and more cold to the idea of war and violence but there will always be something about that specific day. I can't seem to shake the feeling that it hasn’t ended and only more is to come.

Whilst I’ve been adjusting to modern life, I’ve turned to the bottle more times than I should. There have been days where I’ve fallen asleep on the couch, no recollection of even trying to get up yet I always wake up in bed with a blanket over my body. I can’t bear the thought of Y/n supporting me so I found honest work as a carpenter. With a few tweaks, I adjusted fine along with the help of co-workers and friends I made along the way. I feel I’ve become a shell of a being, the impact of everyday life burdens me. It’s not fun anymore, it's real and every day. The walk back home was loud and the people I found strange weren’t so odd anymore. I knew the truth within me, that I had become one of them too. I was almost always alone with my thoughts now that Y/n had started work again. Her hours tended to be late and tedious. She was the only thing keeping my sanity, everyday I drew a breath was for her. With the looks we shared, I wondered if she knew my real thoughts. My melancholic sulking was interrupted when a woman bumped shoulders with me and stopped me in my tracks. When I turned I recognized a familiar face waiting for me.

Reader’s POV

I was shocked when I came home, to say the least. The air was quiet, telling of the predicament I had placed myself in. I never thought I’d see Eivor and Valka sitting down together in my house. The silence was so loud, I couldn’t place my finger on exactly what but there was a feeling within me that knew why she was here. At first glance, she seemed unrecognizable but with a closer look, I recognized her right away. She looked almost the same with a more present-day twist to fit in. Faint freckles danced on her warm skin along with the intensity of her usual solemn expression. Her hair was pulled back and her eyebrows were as thick and beautiful as I remembered. She wore a light tan dress, she would never stray too far from her traditional taste. Valka wouldn’t have come this far for anything, a gut-wrenching feeling consumed me. I placed my belongings on a table near me and the three of us gathered around one another, the silence eating me alive.

“I want to make this as straightforward and honest as possible. We needed you then like we need Eivor now. Without you, Eivor would indefinitely no longer be with us. Ever since Eivor’s absence, the Danes and Saxons have grown only more divided.”

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. Eivor had a worrisome look on her face, one that I had never seen before. Her eyes roamed around the room as If looking for some sort of distraction, maybe even a way out. I kept her sheltered here all this time and even though I’ve enjoyed every moment I still carry around a lot of guilt with me. The fact that I removed her from all that she knew tore me apart from the inside every day no matter how necessary. Perhaps, Eivor was meant to die there that day and her people’s fate was meant to be sealed. The realization that I could be in the process of ultimately changing the past suddenly struck me. Valka had more to say, a proposal I presumed to be made.

“If my visions are correct, Eivor is the key. My most recent discovery is that time changes throughout different realities and dimensions. It has been only a short amount of time for the both of you but It’s been years for us. Time passes slowly when maneuvering into the future but faster into the past.”

Everyone I met from the clan, I caused Eivor to completely leave them in the dark for years. I didn’t want to admit it but I knew exactly what Valka was getting at. These were Eivor’s last days with me if not the last day. As much as it pains me, she belongs in the past and I belong here. I screwed with time too much already, there are now two people out of place in the world. It’s almost as if Valka is an extraterrestrial being with the powers she holds and her ability to jump in between dimensions as if it were nothing. She had a natural aura about her almost like she could fit in anywhere she went and no one would have any suspicions. I've walked by Eivor’s side this entire time and I can't say the same for her. The road has been difficult and long, I can only imagine the toll it’s taking on her health.

The meeting with Valka was brief until she pulled only Eivor aside to talk to. I figured it wasn’t my business anyway since I was only one part of the story. As nosey as I was, I still tried to hold my breath to listen to their conversation but only whispers and mumbles could be heard. From the side of my peripheral vision, I saw Eivor and she looked stressed beyond all means. She was safe here and content whether she was happy or not and now she has one of the greatest burdens on her shoulders to deal with. A lump formed in my throat, I worried if there was still love between us at least on her end but it could just be my insecurities eating at me. For all, I know this is Eivor’s chance to be done with me and only I to be forgotten. Oh, but I could never forget her or the moments we share. Valka’s footsteps could be heard coming towards me as she came to say her farewells. When I stood up from my seat to make formal eye contact with her, I noticed her posture was straight and confident. I decided to keep my distance because I knew that I grew some sort of attachment to Valka as well. Not much could be said on my end, the decision is up to Eivor only.

Valka left and with her absence, the room grew eerily quiet. I couldn’t face Eivor, just seeing her face made me upset and wrapped in a whelm of emotions. Whenever the world became too much I always escaped outside. Like a coward, I ran towards the sliding door near the back of my apartment trying to hide my oncoming tears that were building up. The rays of the sun hit my skin and the sunset shone down on my face leaving a warm feeling on my cheeks. Tears started to roll down my face and I wiped it off with my shirt sleeve leaving a mess of a damp spot on the fabric. I felt selfish for crying, selfish because I never wanted someone all to myself so badly before. Being alone with my thoughts just caused me to feel them even more intensely, I allowed myself to be consumed by them. Suddenly, I heard what I knew was Eivor’s footsteps shuffling towards me. Quickly, I dried my tears and composed myself within a short time before Eivor stood close behind me.

“You don't have to hide it, I already can tell.”

I've had this moment a thousand times, the one where I try to look like I haven’t just bawled my eyes out. It never fails to completely embarrass me every time. When I turned around I noticed the sun beamed on her skin perfectly and every feature on her face could be seen clearly. She had her hair down, a relaxed look presuming she just got home not too long ago. Her eyebrows were pursed together as if she was studying me and trying to figure out what was on my mind. Eivor was like my guardian angel, always following me through my misfortunes and being my number one support. Truth be told, even if she went I was scared for her and if she could make it through this one. Her wounds were completely healed at this point, but I knew the damage it leaves on the mind is forever permanent.

She pulled me closer to her and wiped the wet spot on my cheek with her thumb. In her eyes, I could tell she was worried whether she admitted it or not. At the moment I catch her off guard her true feelings always show on her face and as soon as her eyes met mine she switched them off. I wanted to be honest with her and tell her my true feelings, how I felt about this situationship we involved ourselves in. My feelings had grown so strong since I met her and I realized I never once told her those three words. The more I tried to force words out of my mouth the more I felt the urge to cry again. Sure enough, tears started to fall down my eyes and my body kept telling me to let go of everything. Eivor brought me tightly into her chest and wrapped her arms around me, reluctant to release me. I heard her say something, mumbling under her breath. When I asked for reassurance as to what she said, she didn't hesitate or move.

“I love you.”

Eivor’s POV

The burden that's been placed upon my shoulders is a heavy one but I’m willing to face it. If I die going back I know that I’ll go in peace and with honor. Though it may have taken some time, I feel that Y/n understands that as well. Not to the degree that a drengr would but to the best of her abilities. She tried her best for me and I devote myself to trying my best for her. I was unsure of a lot of things in my life, but I knew no matter where this life led me that I wanted her there by my side. The sunlight was dying but the night was still young. Knowing it would be our last night here, we decided to savor it together. We did what we do best by getting wine drunk and cranked the volume on the speakers up so loud without a care of who was trying to sleep. The frown that was on her face earlier turned into smiles and laughs as she watched me attempt to dance. I always felt like I could have fun with her and be myself, not so serious all the time. She was a lightweight compared to me, already stumbling a little. Seeing her let loose was cute and showed me a side of her I haven’t seen before. I leaned in closer to her, truth be told she was looking extra sweet tonight. Her beauty was effortless and she didn’t even have to try to turn me on.

“Let me see you dance, I love to see you dance… Take you down another level and get you dancing with the devil.”

I placed my hands on her hips and she wrapped her arms around my shoulders. I did my best to lead her and sway with the music and It seems I was doing a good job once her cheerful eyes turned into a sultry spark. I pushed my torso closer to her, leaving that space between us no longer. A thousand intrusive thoughts crossed my mind, the most alluring one being that I could die right here and be happy. It’s the feeling moments before making love that is my favorite. My hands started to trace the outline of her body and my mind started to piece together what she looked like underneath the fabric from fond remembrance. Everything that brought me to her was worth it along with every obstacle in between. She leaned in to whisper in my ear and her voice had a noticeable nervous tremble.

“Take me with you…”

Reader’s POV

I said goodbye to everything I knew for the last time, this time the choice is mine willingly. Just a few months ago I would have never thought I’d be here and on my way to the place where it all happened. Where I met the love of my life and my impending future, the events that were to take place. The temperatures dropped so low at night, the bite of the cold felt bitter on my skin. Foolish me, I never take a cover-up anywhere I go. Luckily Eivor was close by and wrapped her jacket around me due to me being visibly upset by the weather. The cold never bothered her, I could feel the heat radiating from under her body when she hovered her arms over my shoulders to place her jacket. The stones were so close yet we hadn’t dared move within their reach. If I was to be honest with myself, I was nervous to go back. Perhaps, they would be upset with me for leaving so suddenly and taking Eivor along with me. It felt like just yesterday I was in England waiting for Eivor’s return by the ship dock.

Something within me felt like I was making the right decision and that this is the fate that was meant for me all along. Regardless of how twisted and strange it may be, I was ready. The entire time being here, Eivor constantly griped and moaned about how she missed home. For once, she was quiet. I always loved how expressive she tended to be with her face, studying everything like a hawk. She needn’t say much, I could tell what she was thinking about. Anxiety, sadness, and excitement all meshed together forming an array of emotions.

Eivor was a step ahead of me, venturing into the stone's embrace as I followed just behind her. Time seemed to pass more slowly, if not coming to a complete end. Throughout this whole experience, I realized that time wasn’t real. The people, the cultures and the history of the past all lived harmoniously with the present. It didn’t feel like I was traveling through time itself but rather visiting a different distant place on the same Earth. Families, lovers and enemies just the same as what we have today. Eivor’s hand met mine and there we held them together. The outline of the scars on the skin of her forehand and all that she endured in her life, a beautifully written story on her body could be felt. Eivor whispered something in her mother's tongue, something I couldn’t understand.

We both kneeled with our backs towards a tall large stone, huddled together with a cold and eerie feeling in the air. Eivor wrapped her arms around mine and we let whatever happened to be just that. I felt safe no matter where this life took me, I knew Eivor would be near. I was ready to live the remainder of my life with her in the past. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I thought of what our life was going to be like together and what our future held. Daydreams and fantasies that I wonder if she too thought of. Passing through a time portal was invisible, you could never really tell if you traveled or not. Something between reality and falsity merged, undetected by the universe itself. I closed my eyes and laid my head to rest in the crook of Eivors shoulder, letting my mind go blank.

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