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webxgal · 2 months

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[Ⅱ] ab origine

from the beginning.

There is something beautiful about temporary things. The thought of immortalising something into the film of your camera, knowing you cannot snap a picture of them again both saddens you and fills you with pride. For that reason, butterflies have been your primary muse. Their withering lifespan of a month filled you with sentiment, and you always took care in sneaking a photo every time you saw one. Even if one with similar wings appears next time, it’s still not the same butterfly. It will never be reborn.

People are like butterflies too, you realise after your father’s death. You will walk around Iwatodai and sometimes pass by a middle-aged man with the same hair colour as your father, or a woman will have your mother’s eyes. The fact of the matter was—they were still not your parents, who purposefully chose to move on from the world and you.

Nowadays you take pictures of people too. Rarely, because you still feel so weightless and lost in Port Island. Yet, it was better than being in Sumaru City where ghosts you’d rather forget lay dormant. Even if you couldn’t be surrounded by the familiarity of your hometown, or your friends attending Seven Sisters High School, you rationalised it was better than meeting your ex-landlord as he griped about how the apartment would no longer sell after two people had committed suicide in it.

A year passed in Port Island, and your only friend was Yuko Nishiwaki who had also been isolated by her junior high friends (boy troubles, you recall). You both formed some kind of solidarity for being the two girls who were too absorbed in your own hobbies to give a rat’s ass about whatever else happened at school. Yuko would throw herself into sports, and you’d throw yourself into photography so you both don’t acknowledge how you have nothing in common, other than the need for having someone to talk to when the silence becomes too much.

The second year begins with cherry blossoms, a cliche but charming beginning to an otherwise repetitive school year. You stop at the entrance to take some photos and ignore the bitter grumbles of others about how you were blocking the way. Just as you lower your camera to gently tuck it back in your bag, your eyes land on a figure standing just a little ways away.

He is lean, with a droop to his shoulders. You couldn’t catch any of his features through his blue hair that curtains his face. It is the unfamiliarity around him that catches your attention. Your lunchtime habit of people-watching had helped you be accustomed to the appearances of students in your grade. You easily recognise Yukari Takeba walking next to him and you falter for a bit. If he is a new student, how did he already know Takeba? Are they friends from before? Or perhaps that is her boyfriend? You have never interacted with Takeba before, but you did know she is popular within the student body. To you, in your shallow worldview, it makes perfect sense that someone like her has a boyfriend. The passing classmates did too, seeing as they were practically spinning their heads around to take a second look at the couple with a silent promise that rumours will be spread. Nobody had anything better to do at Gekkoukon High, and you were part of the populace of perpetually bored students.

Your thumb, which had been mindlessly resting on the shutter button, clamps down suddenly when someone briskly bumps past you. The familiar, audible shutter rings through the ambience and you watch in horror as the boy turns in your direction, catching you in your hurried attempt to stuff your camera away. Your breath hitches in your throat when azure eyes meet yours. In between your frazzled panic and the widening of Takeba’s eyes, you can’t help but feel that the world has fallen into silence for that brief second. He is undeniably pretty, and despite his big eyes, he holds an air of neutrality around him, unbefitting the stereotype of someone innocent. His hands are shoved in his pockets and his lack of reaction to you only adds more mystery to him.

But that moment ends quickly and upon the couple’s staring, you knew there was no way you could justify yourself standing like a creep with your camera in hand. Again. So you make a lightening decision. Doing practically the most incriminating thing you can do in that situation—you make a run for it. You let your legs, practically unused over the spring break, take you inside the school building. You are met with strange looks, again which you ignore because it couldn’t even scale to the shame you felt for ogling at the new guy. The new, taken guy who is Takeba’s boyfriend. Your embarrassment does not let you think of the fact that you aren’t even certain of the nature of the two’s relationship, and just wander over to the corkboard in hopes you will be shielded by the bodies of students searching for their names and new homeroom.

2-F.

You read through section ‘N’ for Yuko and let your shoulders drop in disappointment when you notice she is not in your class. It had been comforting during your first year to have her desk propped beside yours, making you feel less alone in a room full of strangers. Thinking of the girl, you wonder if she has arrived at school yet but a quick survey in the corridor didn’t let you spy her familiar visage. You guess you will be seeing her during lunchtime then. The shrill of the first bell causes you and several other students to perk up, realising you have mere minutes to head to class before you are declared late. You haven’t even put your bag away. As you turn around to head back to the lockers, you miss the pair from across the room, who were similarly heading to their first lesson of the year.

(“Huh?” Yukari blinks as she watches you dash away as if the devil itself were nipping at your heels. “You’re asking about the girl with the camera?”

Minato nods patiently.

“Erm…” Yukari rakes her memory for any recollection of you and finds it to be extremely sparse. “Well, she’s in our grade? I haven’t talked to her before so I don’t know much. She into photography, I think.”

There was no particular reason for him to ask, other than the fact he recognises your camera to be a new model from a flyer he read recently. He quickly forgets about you as he and Yukari are distracted by much greater things. Your name isn’t brought up again for a long time.)

(Yuko has to hide her laugh by practically shoving a spoonful of ginger rice into her mouth once you finish recounting your humiliating morning and subsequent first impression on the new student. You are frowning, barely touching your iced coffee that is warming up under the spring heat.

“Welcome to the club,” She grins, poking sharply at your shoulder as she teases. “Where we both get accused of being homewreckers.”

Your eyebrows furrow together, your frown only deepening. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth as you contemplate, looking up at your friend with genuine worry flooding your expression.

“That’s terrible! I don’t want gum stuck to my locker just like you…”

She immediately claps you on the back of your head.)

#p3 protagonist x reader #persona 3 x reader #persona 3 #p3 x reader #p3 #persona 3 protagonist #minato arisato #minato arisato x reader #makoto yuki #makoto yuki x reader #p3 protagonist #x reader #reader insert #memento vivere #webxgal writes

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faebaex · 1 year

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Cursed with the Gift of Reincarnation Ⅱ

author note: omg take this away from me, this fic has had my fighting for my life o(>< )o the amount of technical difficulties i have suffered through trying to write this almost made me shelve it bc i genuinely started to think that it could be cursed too, like reader! so glad i can finally post it now, pls next part don't be mean to me like this, oof.

Please note that this is a female character.

characters: Lilia Vanrouge x F!Fae Reader

“Sssh Lilia, someone will hear us!”

“It’s not a problem as long as they don’t see us.”

“That’s not true and you know it!”

Despite your retort, you laughed unabated, and the sound was music to his ears. If Lilia could indulge himself in your laugh with every second of his day, he would. He reached out towards you, intent on pulling you away for a dalliance before your duties could seize hold of you again, when a loud bang rang through the air.

Lilia watched as you froze, the mirth draining from your expression as slowly, crimson began to seep through the crisp white of your blouse. The scenery around you changed, from vibrant glades to war torn fields, and he watched you crumple. No...

No, no, no, no.

Lilia ran towards you, but every step he took, you seemed to get further away. He cursed through gritted teeth and pushed himself harder, faster, he’d reach you if it was the last thing he did--

Lilia’s eyes snapped open, and he stared at the blank canopy above his bed. His breathing was uneven, his chest tight with residual panic, brow damp with sweat. He puffed out a long breath he didn’t even realise he was holding, his head thumping back down into the pillow.

The nightmares had returned. Plaguing his dreams like demons, even when he knew what he was seeing was not true, he couldn’t help but hope, to believe that maybe if he was just a little faster, he could save you this time... He bitterly wondered if this was a side effect of the gift of reincarnation, to dangle your memory like fruit in front of him before snatching it away.

It was no surprise as to why the nightmares had reared their head after so long. In his mature age, it was rare for much to surprise Lilia. But you, standing on the very drawbridge of their dorm in the College’s ceremonial robes had almost held the power to petrify him. He had searched for you so long, only for you to stroll very literally into his home...

Lilia sighed again as he slipped out of bed, leaving his bedsheets disheveled as he moved towards his nightly safe space - his computer. Lilia settled down in his chair as he waited to his computer to start up, sluggishly preparing to fall back into the routine of gaming through the night. At least if he stay awake, he could attempt to push back the endless loop of your death...

You shuffled down the corridor, a steaming mug of fresh tea in your hands as you made your way back to your dorm room. Your phone had told you that it was around 3am when you had tossed yourself awake, feeling worse than you had felt before you had gone to bed.

Since you had arrived at this place, at Night Raven College, your sleep had been disturbed. Some nights you would dream of faceless figures and shifting landscapes, with conversations that sounded more like riddles than anything you could follow. No matter how much you dreamed, you could never figure out what was going on around you. Other nights, you'd simply toss and turn, entirely unable to sleep. Often, you wondered if you should tell the Regent about it, if perhaps maybe some magic on campus was interacting with you strangely or something, but an odd feeling in your stomach stopped you every time.

You were shaken from your thoughts by a dull thud reverberating. You perked up, trying to locate where the sound came from. It seemed to come from the room you just passed... Wasn't that Lilia's room? He was still awake?

Slowly you crept towards his door, knocking softly upon it only to jump at the sound of another dull thud, louder this time. Twisting the door handle, you cracked the door open, only to be surprised by the sight before you.

Lilia... With one foot on his desk... Curled over a bright screen?!

"Sen--" You went to whisper yell, only to be shocked again when Lilia's head snapped towards you, his eyes showing a sliver of surprised before he hushed you and gestured for you to enter. You almost spilt your tea as you scrambled through the door, your confusion making your actions sloppy as you pushed closed the door.

"Sorry dear, I'll be right with you. My party is full of pups, and we'll lose this raid if I don't pull through." Lilia called over his shoulder, a frantic clicking following his words as he remained focused on the strange bright screen in front of him. It looked a little like your phone but... Bigger. Brighter.

... Party? Pups? Raid? What in the Sevens was he talking about?

With great trepidation, you crept towards Lilia and peeked over his shoulder and get a better look at the strange, bright screen. The sight only boggled your mind further. The screen showed a team of tiny people, fighting some sort of... Gigantic beast? You couldn't help but pinch your cheek to check if you were somehow dreaming again.

You watched on in stunned silence until a victory message eventually popped up on the screen, with Lilia reclining back in his chair in satisfaction. As if suddenly remembering your presence, Lilia turned to you with a pleased grin on his face, "sorry about that, dear. Did you need something?"

You blinked at him dumbly, your shell-shocked expression only making Lilia's grin widen, "d-did you... Did you shrink those people and put them in that... That thing?" You gestured to the larger screen behind him, and Lilia couldn't help the laugh that passed his lips, slowly growing into a cackle as he doubled over in his chair.

You puffed out your cheeks, exasperated by his reaction, "hey! I thought you were getting attacked in here, or something!" Your words only made Lilia laugh more, and you set a hand on your hip as you waited for him to regain composure over himself. Wiping a tear from his eye, Lilia looked up at you, a smug grin on his face, "oh? Were you coming to save me?"

You narrowed your eyes playfully at him but decided to ignore his jibe, instead focusing your attention back on the mysterious screen behind him, "you didn't answer my question, what is... That?" Lilia seemed to find your confusion endearing, as his smug smile turned into a softer one.

"This is my computer. I'm quite the gamer, you know. It's like your phone, right? But more powerful." Lilia explained, and you tilted your head. "If it's more powerful, why didn't the Regent give me one of those instead?" You asked with your brow furrowed, and Lilia gave another amused laugh, "Well, it may be more powerful but a phone is much more convenient. It's not like you can fit a computer in your pocket... Actually," Lilia spun on his chair, so he could get a better look at you, "I'm surprised that your Regent sent you here with a phone. That's a rather technologically savvy move that us fae aren't known for."

You took a sip of your tea and gave a nod, "yeah, but he didn't teach me how to use it though." You shrugged, rather non-comital, something that Lilia picked up on. If he asked you about your Regent or the Sombre Wilds in general, you sometimes clammed up, giving vague answers or changing the subject. Lilia often wondered if you'd been told to keep quiet.

"Anyway... Why are you still awake, dear? It is rather late..." Lilia asked, changing the subject for you this time. You lifted your mug to your lips, concealing the lower half of your face from Lilia's scrutiny as you toyed with taking another sip, "I couldn't sleep." You answered simply, letting your eyes wander around the room in an attempt to find something to change the subject to. As a result, you missed the subtle change in Lilia's expression, the way his brow furrowed at your words before it smoothed back into neutrality.

"What a coincidence, I was also having a spot of trouble sleeping." Lilia gave you a small smile as you turned your attention back to him, nodding sympathetically. "Is that why you were being a gamer?" You asked, the sincerity in your tone causing Lilia to snort again. You were just too cute.

"That is exactly why," Lilia agreed, not having the heart to tease you when you acted this adorably, "come, I can show you, if you wish?" Lilia swiveled back towards his screen and began clicking away again, and you took a further step forward. Well, it's not like you had any other plans...

You blinked blearily as you felt a nudge against your arm. It was Sebek, getting your attention as you'd apparently missed Trein announcing the end of class. Slowly, you began to pack away your textbooks, Sebek standing awkwardly beside you, pink dusting his cheeks as he valiantly tried his best not to look at you.

... He'd been acting like that since this morning.

It had been Sebek's booming voice that had shaken you and Lilia from your accidental nap, propped up against each other as you both shared his desk chair. In fact, if it hadn't been for Lilia's swift hands catching hold of you, you'd have toppled right off of the chair in surprise. You don't even remember falling asleep, and the same could be said for Lilia if his surprised expression was any evidence.

... You supposed you couldn't really blame Sebek for his behaviour when he had seen you emerging from Lilia's bedroom, looking fairly disheveled. But the lecture? The lecture was entirely unwarranted! You had to suffer through your rushed breakfast and the entire walk to morning class being grilled about what you were doing in Master Lilia's bedroom at such early hours, before being lectured about proper courtship conventions. Which was ironic, considering the one who had taught him these courtship conventions he spouted was Lilia.

In frustration, you had ended up shouting at him that whatever you and Lilia did in your private time was none of his business, which on reflection just incriminated you further, and left Sebek spluttering with pink cheeks for the rest of the day. It only got worse when Lilia didn't turn up for lunch, you were sure you could see the scandalised cogs in Sebek's brain turning as he wondered what awful things you did to Lilia that made him unable to attend lunch at their usual table. Even Silver picked up on Sebek's uncharacteristic silence, not that he minded.

You yawned as you made your way back to the Hall of Mirrors, glad to have waved goodbye to Sebek as he rushed off faster than you'd ever seen him to his club activities for the rest of the afternoon. You mulled over the events of the night. You had stayed in Lilia's room, eventually sharing his desk chair as he talked you through the game he was currently playing. You didn't really get it, but it was oddly relaxing. So relaxing, in fact, that you must have drifted off... It felt somewhat strange to you, if you were honest. The whole reason you ended up in Lilia's room was because you couldn't sleep, so to fall asleep sitting upright when you were struggling to do that laying in bed was a rather bizarre turn of events. Were you truly that tired that you didn't notice? After all, you hadn't gotten a full night's sleep in quite a while...

You continued to ponder this as you walked through your dorm towards your dorm room, paying no mind to your surroundings. You shook your head with a sigh as you pushed open your bedroom door, perhaps you were indeed just that exhausted. Maybe you should visit the infirmary after class tomorrow, maybe they could offer some help...

You locked your dorm room door behind you after you entered, another yawn slipping from your lips as you turned to go to your bed, planning to at least try to get more sleep. However, a slim object sitting on top of your pillow caught your attention. You approached closer, curiosity piqued as you reached for the object. It was sleek, a subtle green and pink colour scheme being its more noticeable feature. You turned it in your hands, trying to figure out what is was. You even shook it, holding it close to your face to see if anything would happen with it. It was by complete mishap that your finger pushed open the object, and your heart plummeted as you thought you may have broken it, before soaring when you caught a glimpse of what it was.

It looked similar to the computer that Lilia had in his bedroom, but more compact and... Foldable? Suddenly, the green and pink motif that themed the object made sense... Had Lilia put this here? For you? You felt your cheeks heat up at the thought, a warm smile slipping over your lips before you could stop it.

Stroking a thumb affectionately across the keys of this curious new object, you set to work trying to figure out how to make it work, the previous plan to sleep completely forgotten. So distracted in your vigour to learn how to work your new device, you were completely oblivious to the little bat that had taken refuge on the top of your open window frame, fluttering off discreetly into the misty skies...

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x y/n #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x y/n

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alaska-mii · 1 year

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ᴅᴇᴄᴋ ᴏғ ᴄᴀʀᴅs | ɪʟ ᴅᴏᴛᴛᴏʀᴇ sᴇɢᴍᴇɴᴛs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

〖 . . . 〗ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ dottore creates a carbon copy of himself in every stage of his growth that he undertakes. to address the elephant in the room — your reputation amongst the segments is, to be blunt, quite the lunchtime dispute.

〖 ᴀ/ɴ 〗more of a character study per say, than an interaction between reader and segment squad.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: heavy descriptions of gore, obssesive behavior, pet names

〖 Ⅱ 〗ɪʟ ᴅᴏᴛᴛᴏʀᴇ sᴇɢᴍᴇɴᴛ: ᴋᴀᴘᴘᴀ

bearing quite the zealous streak, the verdant scholarly robes you often spot cascading behind him as he scrambles to and fro between endeavors betrays the years he had spent in the field during his legal reign of research.

absurd as it seems, kappa's prone to donning his heart on his sleeve, evidenced by the fawning, nigh tenderhearted nature he moulds over the blasphemy of his character rooted in each segment for your sake. and whether it be tainting the nonchalance of his genius or, in the scholar's case, festering beneath his bygone clean record, you reap the benefits of the devotion you've sowed.

despite the reputation he had garnered as the resident goody two shoes, a notion that even the others seem to gloss over as a half-baked jest, you've barely dug into the details of the open book you once pegged kappa to be. peering into the carmine eyes above the flush that dusted his cheeks if he happened to so much as glance at you — a cast to his palor you had once upon a time pinned the blame of to a candid crush, during the youth you had spent as a student yourself — they beheld such raw infatuation and frenzy in the razored grin below. both served as a wretched reminder of the doctor's sheer lunacy, buried beneath the cloak of a young, foolhardy scholar.

the scholar — though he sports the crammed role of the errand boy, bossed around and treated like another meager masked fatui agent — always seems to knit together occasions to gift you near heart attacks whenever he stumbles upon you as he flocks haphazardly throughout the palace, moments that he, of course, takes guilty delight in. the shock that bolts through you when he pinches you into an embrace from behind never ceases to send your composure into haywire, a secret the cheeky bastard devours.

you beam at the pitter-patter of steps echoing throughout the brittle corridors. it is always a delicacy to see a crumb of energy against such drabness within these halls, but kappa's stifling zest is a flavor you'd prefer not to taste.

as the rhythm of tapping trails away, you mark the coast as clear. alas, when you bite back a shriek as arms slink around your waist — much to his jovial laughter — you had ventured far into the den of the vulture's playground.

he chuckles breezily, nuzzling further into the racing thrum at your neck without shame. giddiness seeps from him in waves, "you'll have to forgive me, love,"

he squeezes you against him once more, lapping up the morsel of your choked rasps, before untangling the grasp he snaked around you. he stows those hands behind a cape of silk as if to conceal their breaching acts moments before.

the scholar flashes a serrated smile, ear to ear, "the feast you made yourself to be was an invitation far too appetizing to ignore."

〖 Ⅱ 〗ɪʟ ᴅᴏᴛᴛᴏʀᴇ sᴇɢᴍᴇɴᴛ: ᴅᴇʟᴛᴀ

the rogue has a penchant for brandishing the cold shoulder towards you, evidently due to the fresh memory of the rejection sustained from his homeland that seared into the soles of each gloomy traipse he treaded. no matter the hours you spend interrogating delta between the mounds of research — really piles of clutter atop his equipment — he entombs himself in, your pyring inquiries always seem to be greeted by blunt hums and the dreary rustle of a shrug. the vague responses you manage to wring from him are victories you savour.

in moments of weakness, after an onslaught of questions — fueled only by the desire to fathom such detatchment encapsulated within each twitch of his person — are thwarted by matching stubbornness, the urge to cleave his head from the column of his neck and chop at his candy blue curls if only to peak at the dense fog that clouded him so often entices you. the utter gloom he stokes is painted boldly on your poise, yet unbeknownst to you, the rogue's macabre thoughts mirror yours precisely, merely concealing it behind his bleak demeanor.

delta mulls it over when the muse strikes him. one time, he had halted when his gloves were soaked in gore to the elbows, gaze gliding over to your fidgeting. today, the droning sentence that had caught his attention, a murmur you sandwiched in yet another ramble: to prompt you into abandoning him would be yearning to peel a parasite from its host. a ludicrous — yet somehow touching — sentiment.

the rogue truly does ponder about it, balancing the options upon a scale chained by the hours you spun yarns of storybook tales and mundane chores throughout your days. you color him puzzled, weaving such a labyrinth between him and the coherent course of choice. the fleeting deranged idea plagues him though, tugs at him to wonder if you really are a species of nonhuman that initiates conversation to harvest some form of energy from him.

a mellow snore drags him from his sulking — ah, it seemed you've cruised into a drowse yourself. gingerly draped across a surface swept from rather noteworthy gadgets and documents, you nestled your chin into tucked sleeves. that particular tangled thread of thoughts is for another day.

the chair scratches along the ground as he unfurls from his seat. he ambles towards your slumber, focus latched onto you.

delta looms above you, reaching a languid hand to the crown of your head. how he yearns, yet he reigns his own talons in, collecting himself. then, as he observes you stir from your doze, it happens upon him like a whip.

your glossy, sleep ridden eyes meet his.

he wouldn't be bothered — he thinks as a tender, questioning, sleepy keen escaped those lips—were you a leech feasting upon his blood. so long as you needed a part of him to breathe.

〖 Ⅱ 〗ɪʟ ᴅᴏᴛᴛᴏʀᴇ sᴇɢᴍᴇɴᴛ: ᴏᴍᴇɢᴀ

omega's been favouring a curious hobby, as you've gauged as of late, which was his habit of dangling bait before you, humoring in your battle against the hook, and after he tugs you out of your element, judging if you'll squirm or yield as the gambler gobbles you up.

not a sole segment of ghastly skin tattered with scarred ingravings of past experiments, adorned with pale blue locks draping across sharp pristine wardrobe, coupled with those eyes granting only a shred of the endowment packed into his mind scratched beneath your skin more than that damned gambler.

an odd monicker, yet not without background — since it had always been a routine matter of chance with him. whether you had unlucky dealings with the others and if he was feeling rather malicious when he encounters you, or whether he'd notice the bounce in your step as his mood was bizarrely indulgent for once. each jest he sends is designed to coax an answer, not to dictate any of the perturbed backlash you let slip through the crevices of the etiquette you sculpted into your behavior.

and in exchange for obediently playing along with this game of his, you craft a mock of your own — the high and mighty gambler.

the morbid satisfaction that racks through you whenever you bear witness to the smugness draining from him is a trophy like no other. you know he loaths it as the harbinger bestowed with the second seat is infamous for his schemes founded upon logic harvested from centuries worth of shrewdness beneath his belt. only then does he clench his mouth shut, refusing to hand his pride to you on a silver platter without a fight.

how you both entertain yourselves by spewing barbed quips to one another is beyond even you. omega does seem to find amusement in your ruffled feathers, however. such a stark unlikeness to the spineless skirmishers who quiver at the offer of his honeyed venom.

you hear the rhythm of his clacking footfall only due to his current indulgence, you know he'd leave no hint of his incoming presence otherwise. the gaze boring onto your back bothers you too much to ignore. even through that beaked mask of his.

he notices the brake in your hastened stride. to tempt his dormant pestering tendancies would not be wise.

"going somewhere?" he drawls, moseying into place beside you. before you could respond, he drones on, "perhaps a stroll outside the palace would do you well. you cage yourself inside these walls so often that i've been meaning to ask the last time you've seen the sun."

the lure beckons you to throw another jab back. although, one-sided banter is one of the more pleasant things you'll encounter in his company. you hum instead, "but i've heard the weather tonight is the least bit inviting. besides," — an olive branch — "won't you join me either way?"

the question hangs heavy in the static air between the pair of you. you wonder if you should've held your tongue.

then, omega haughtily scoffs, "break away from the delusion you've fooled yourself into believing. you are not entitled to my presence."

he nears you, then. arms clad in moonlit silver tucked behind his back, a soft glow emitting from the liquid encapsulated in his glass earring, the sharpness of antiseptic and iron and the faintest, fleeting whisper of a floral aroma, all just swallowing you whole.

"however," he tilts his head, breath fanning at your cheek, the sharpened tip of his crow's mask a hairsbreadth away, "make no mistake, darling. the time i spend with you this evening is of my own free will."

he resumes his amiable snail's pace stroll, leading the trek to nowhere in particular, leaving you to scramble behind him.

〖 Ⅱ 〗ɪʟ ᴅᴏᴛᴛᴏʀᴇ sᴇɢᴍᴇɴᴛ: ᴇᴘsɪʟᴏɴ

if the bandwagon of torture was a worshipped diety, epsilon had taken it upon himself to employ his torment upon you as a sacred custom.

despite the frequent visits he suffocates you with, abiding by the disheveled schedule he had demanded you to heed, panic creeps into you whenever his mood sours at the farthest thing from you. few and far in between, the poor outcome of an experiment — a glass chamber had broked beneath the rampage of his hand, you had quivered quietly as you watched — other times yet often enough, the errors of his assigned researchers — there had been a bloodbath when he finished, you faintly smell the tang of copper clinging to you still — or, heaven forbid, a fault of your own.

the trecherous memory haunts you, a ghost forever paralyzed in sweltering agony and numbing horror clutching at your heels, never to forgotten and submerged from your mind. he remembers, too. yet it is an unspoken rule amongst you that both butcher and carcass would play pretend, unless you choose to relive the nightmare of a cleaver's blade.

ah, but that vexes him too. he doesn't wish for a corpse to be his everyday companion, rather, he urges you to sew together a semblance of an ordinary bond shared between a pair of animated lovers: to be a taxidermied toy, stitches and staples and a ploy at being alive. his scholarly days had been the target of his unadulterated disgust for ages, and he was not about to alter such inner resolve within him over a silly fantasy, but perhaps.

perhaps, a lifetime ago, he could have graduated from that wretched hellhole with his hand intertwined in yours, looping through one another in matrimony. perhaps you could have travled the lands together, never quite quenching your hunger for the unknown, never settling as wanderlust tainted the both of you. how charming — you would be the only home that daren't chase him away with pitchforks and torches. he hates that such enchanting dreams will always be a distant fairytale.

yet in a cruel twist of heart, epsilon does find solace in having you within arm's reach, ready to be beckoned at a moment's notice. he had been stripped of his prestige, now forced to operate within inky shadows — should there be a single aspect of his former life that would never escape his grasp, it would be his lover. the only one who could hold him wholly within the palms of your hands.

it's that truth that drives each word lashed towards you, every vice grip he latches onto you. he wouldn't part from you if death came to seize his soul, yet how effortlessly you could just let go unnerves him to his bones. surely you of all crowds would understand this overbearing character he acts behind — no doubt, you would read between the lines of the scripts he spouts.

no matter if epsilon gets lost within the scenes, melds with the butcher who lusts after the wounds he tears and stitches back together upon your flesh. nevermind if he feels a twinge of glee whenever tears are shed from eyes squinted with pain. you would be the needle of his haystack audience, always meant to throw yourself into a standing ovation at the end of his preformance. always meant to tell the butcher from the knife he wields.

splatter paints him another coat of skin.

he stares, the smothered trembles on your figure are earthouakes to him. eyes flickering to the puddle oozing from the crack of the door, to the mangled bodies that lay mauled behind it, anywhere but his own that fixes on the grimace crinkling your face.

shattering the moment frozen in the dead of the evening, he dares a step forward.

he stops before you — a bundle of nerves packaged by the stun of his scrutiny — and peels his soiled gloves from his hands. sprinkling dots of blood on your cheek.

he tosses the pair at your feet, you startle with a hitch of your breath. he catches your jaw, and at last, you timidly peak at his towering form above. you thought you would perhaps glimpse a note of the mayhem that plagues him, yet you only find a sickeningly soft glint glossing his twin crimsons.

epsilon kneels like a knight in a pool of dribbling blood. he presses his forehead to yours, chanting your name a prayer, "be not afraid, my dearest. so long as you stay by my side," he signs, hysteria bleeding into his voice, "i won't lay a hand on you."

a lie, stemming from the desperate need for stability, an offer to a fake haven that wouldn't crumble into the depths of the evening. you know the invitation is merely another slight of hand biding time for the other to lash out, for the other shoe to drop.

yet you can't help but take the bold-faced lie with greedy hands.

〖 ᴀ/ɴ 〗disclaimer, delta and kappa are my own. had a blast writing this, so please leave a note below!

#dottore x reader #dottore x gender neutral reader #yandere genshin imapact #yandere dottore #yandere il dottore #il dottore x reader #il dottore #dottore #genshin x reader

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lixiesbrowniess · 1 year

Text

˖✩°｡⋆𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓˖✩°｡⋆

ૢ་࿐˖⋆𝑻𝒚𝒑𝒆

Oneshots:💐

Headcanons:💌

Series:🍂

Multiples:🥞

Interactive:🫧

ૢ་࿐˖⋆𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆

Fluff:☁️

Angst:🍃

Smut:🐚

ૢ་࿐˖⋆𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

ׂ࿐˖⋆ 𝐀𝐎'𝐍𝐔𝐍𝐆

▷ Trying 69 with Ao'nung ˖°🐚✩°💌｡⋆

▷ His reaction to you using the safe word ˖°☁️✩°💌｡⋆

▷ Your so beautiful I hate you ˖°🐚✩°🍂｡⋆

↳part Ⅱ will come...

ׂ࿐˖⋆𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌

▷ Braiding his hair ˖°☁️✩°💌｡⋆

▷ The forest singer ˖°🐚✩°💐｡⋆ coming soon...

ׂ࿐˖⋆𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐗𝐎

▷ I'm not so soft ˖°🐚✩°💐｡⋆ coming soon...

ׂ࿐˖⋆𝐋𝐎'𝐀𝐊

▷ Boobies boy ˖°🐚✩°💐｡⋆

ׂ࿐˖⋆𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐈

▷ Him fucking your a$$ ˖°🐚✩°💌｡⋆

▷ I'll become a brat tamer ˖°🐚✩°💐｡⋆ coming soon...

ׂ࿐˖⋆𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘

Ops still nothing here...

ׂ࿐˖⋆𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒

▷ The boys when you're in heat ˖°🐚✩°💌🥞｡⋆

↳Ao'nung, Neteyam, Lo'ak, Jake, Tonowari, Tsu'tey

▷ Ma'Eywa ˖°🐚✩°🫧｡⋆

↳Ao'nung, Neteyam, Lo'ak, Rotxo

Ma'Eywa Masterlist | Navigation | About me

#avatar the way of water #avatar twow #avatar #aonung #neteyam sully #avatar x reader #tsireya #aonung x reader #avatar rotxo #lo'ak sully #lixiesbrowniess #masterlist #avatar masterlist #avatar smut #avatar fic

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zero-templates · 2 days

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⭒ Music themed minimal alter intro !

˓ please like and reblog if using, read pinned for info !

˓ text to copy and paste is under the cut and in comments, no credit needed, pro endos dni and read our pinned before interacting !

。 Now playing : ⺌

⊂ 🎤 **name** *!* ♫

♪ *age* 🎧

*prns* ⋆

🎼 �� *role* ⊳

*gender* 🎹

01:57 ━━━━𖧹───── 02:55

ㅤ ㅤ⊲ㅤ Ⅱ ㅤ⊳ ㅤㅤ⤿ 𖹭

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great-cats · 5 months

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The Compress Analysis (2/?)

(From: This Post) Ⅰ - Ⅱ - ...

Part Ⅱ: The Mask

Yep, I see the mask as a key part of his character to the point where it simply must get a section of its own in this increasingly more insane ramble. One may immediately assume that the thing is used for identity concealment. While this is partially true, I reckon that its primary purpose is the concealment of his emotions, as implied in the ultra analysis entry for him (attached below). He may have a near perfect handle on his body language, but I will personally headcanon that he has a terrible poker face until the day I die. As a villain, his identity is going to come out at some point, you know? Even after the Kamino raid (where he got doxxed the hell out of), he continued to wear the mask up until his ta-da moment in 294. So with that info, we can reasonably assume that identity was on the back burner, and emotion/dramatics took centre stage. The latter option is thrown in because he obviously was saving that reveal to an extent. One can even go so far as to assume he hadn’t even taken his mask off around the league, which would be pretty interesting. We don’t ever see him without it while he’s with them, after all.

Beyond keeping his facial expressions behind closed doors, the mask may very well bolster Atsuhiro’s confidence. We don’t particularly see much of this in action given he wore the thing for so long and has only a select few moments of casual interaction, but I still like to think of it as a very real possibility. For all intents and purposes, Atsuhiro Sako is just a normal man with an interesting background and some past poverty. Despite this, the villain that is Mr.Compress– or what quite nicely amounts to a stage persona –is flamboyant, clever, and has a penchant for monologuing. I quite like to create a separation between “Mr.Compress” and “Atsuhiro Sako” because of this disparity. The latter is the flawed man behind the mask whilst the former is a faux, ideal identity put on for the audience. Only in those rude remarks and reckless actions do we see the facade begin to slip. So, what of the moment in the climax of chapter 294 in which he throws that covering off? Well, for starters, he couldn’t not. Jeanist’s quirk could nab anything fibrous, and the fellow couldn’t take any chances. But, beyond that, Atsuhiro thought that moment would wind up his final stand. What’s the use of concealment if you’re going to die soon? He might as well make things flashy.

A big thing in my opinion regarding the mask is how it often reflects Atsuhiro’s status. While I do like to make the distinction between him and Mister as mentioned prior, again, there’s that smidge of him shining through. When he lost his arm, the mask was solemn and in the times he was at his best, it portrayed a smug/snide grin. That grin in particular is by far his most iconic design! It gets the cogs turning in my head when his real emotions don’t seem to match it, though, Regardless of how Atsuhiro is really feeling, that mask keeps up the smile until it’s either broken or otherwise removed. It circles us back to that emotion concealment point, if that wasn’t already obvious. In pursuit of the perfect villain and the next in line for the illustrious goals and teachings of the late Peerless Thief. Atsuhiro has no room for error with that heavy load on his shoulders and must keep up appearances, even if he has to hide behind a smiling mask to do so. But why hold this legacy in such high regard? Atsuhiro claimed that it was the very reason he was there with the league, so what could’ve possibly gotten the man to be so dead set on the wishes of a long gone relative he likely never met? Perhaps, answers to questions like that could be found in what minimal information we know about…

Ah dear! That's part three exclusive content!! Tune in for "The Upbringing" later in which we'll pick right back up from where we left off!

#mr compress #atsuhiro sako #sako atsuhiro #mha #bnha #mr. compress #league of villains #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #character analysis #also when im done with all this I'll probably post a google doc #since thats what im writing this on #Just so that it's all in one place!!

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stargirlaveblog · 2 months

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7Seals

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Chapter 11*

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•Previous Chapter: Chapter Ten

•Next Chapter: Chapter Twelve

• Chapter List

• New chapters every Thursday

•Content: Levi Ackerman × OC female. Slow Burn! Canon verse!

• Word Count: 2.5k

• Warning: This content may not be suitable for all readers. If you've watched all of AOT then you will understand that the show handles heavy subjects such as abuse, racism, violence, and other heavy subjects. This fanfiction will also have the same heavy themes. Chapters with heavy themes will be marked with * at each chapter. This chapter does contain themes of abuse. Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with that topic.

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Decode - Paramore

1:00 ━❍────── 3:22

↻ ⊲ Ⅱ ⊳ ↺

VOLUME: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

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Levi's Perspective

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845

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"Can you slow down?" Her irritating voice echoed behind me as we navigated the halls.

"No," I snapped, rolling my eyes.

"Did you forget my rib is broken?" She complained, footsteps hastening.

"Weren't you just blabbering about being good in two weeks?" I retorted, annoyed.

"Yeah, two weeks. Not today," she groaned.

"I don't care. Hurry up," I barked. Erwin better be in his damn office, or this could turn into a colossal waste of my time. I didn't want to chance it being too late.

"Too late for what?" She said, running beside me while clutching her stomach.

Damn it, did I say that out loud?

"Nothing. Just keep going."

I've stared at that smug face countless times and never once noticed anything unusual.

If he's genuinely from the underground, how the hell did he surface? There's a reason for his secrecy, but why does Iris know? Is she in cahoots with him? Is she just his pawn?

"Erwin," I grunted, opening the door to his office.

"A firm knock works well, Levi," Erwin said, seated at his desk, the fire casting eerie shadows as he stood up. "Greetings, Iris."

"Alexander is from the underground," I declared to Erwin, cutting through the pleasantries. No need for useless banter; I wasn't here for amusement. Damn it, I had better things to do. But instead I had to involve myself with these shitheads.

Erwin's fake smile faded instantly, and his focus shifted to Iris.

"Is this true?" Erwin's stern question hung in the air.

"Yes, sir," Iris answered him.

"This changes things," I muttered, eyes narrowing at the unfolding situation.

"Drastically," Erwin replied, his gaze fixed on the world beyond his office window.

"Then I'm guessing you haven't heard the news yet?"

"What news?" I questioned, a wave of confusion washing over me.

What the hell did I miss while I was away? If it was crucial, someone should have tracked me down.

"Two more scouts were found dead this morning," Erwin dropped the bombshell. "Throats slit."

"What time?" I demanded. "How come no one notified me?"

"Sometime around noon. I sent someone to your office as soon as I found out," Erwin informed me.

"Wait, what?" Iris interjected, but both Erwin and I ignored her.

"You think it's connected?" I asked, suspicion creeping in.

"Both missing ODM gear. Just like last time," Erwin disclosed, turning to Iris once again. "Where was Alexander this morning?"

"I-I don't know," she stammered, her gaze flickering between Erwin and me.

"Where were you around noon?" Erwin pressed.

"I- I don't really know," she stuttered again. "I was training, and then I got hurt."

"Bullshit," I cut in, crossing my arms. She had been out of my sight for an hour today. "Recall everything you did—every person you interacted with, down to how you took a damn shit. Don't leave a single detail out."

"You were with me all morning," she protested, but her words fell on deaf ears.

"Except twice," Erwin said. "When you arrived and left my office. I timed you on your arrival; your departure, I'm unaware of."

"I went straight back and forth. No detours," Iris insisted, her eyes reddening with confusion.

"I find that hard to believe," I countered, fixing her with a piercing gaze.

"Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?" Iris demanded, irritation etched across her face.

Erwin and I exchanged a glance before turning our attention back to the increasingly frustrated girl. Her once-bright jade eyes now betrayed a mix of anger and something more elusive. Was she truly in the dark, or was she playing the fool? Her eyes held secrets.

"Stop playing dumb," I groaned at her. "We both know you didn't break your rib during practice." She moved closer, anger evident but an underlying fear betrayed by her eyes.

"I'm not playing dumb, Captain," she gritted through her teeth.

I stepped even closer, looming over her. Her newfound courage amused me, and a smirk threatened to escape.

"Watch yourself, cadet," I warned, relishing the moment. "Wouldn't want to end up with another broken rib."

"Stand down," Erwin's voice commanded, but she didn't yield. Iris stood defiantly, her angered eyes locked onto mine.

She was a stubborn brat if I'd ever seen one.

"Both of you," Erwin repeated. I shot a disapproving look at Erwin. Being kind won't get anything out of this girl. She's too damn stubborn. I stepped back, and Iris finally followed suit.

"Iris," Erwin addressed her. "How did you manage to break your rib?"

"I fell last night," she claimed.

"Stop fucking lying," I snapped at her. "How did you break your rib?"

Before she could answer, the door burst open, and Hange came running in.

"Commander!" they yelled, scanning the room. "Levi! Iris! I haven't seen you two in a while. What are you guys doing here?"

Getting distracted once again. Classic Hange.

"Hange," Erwin reminded them.

"Oh, right!" they said, saluting Erwin. "Two out of the three MPs have been arrested. We can't locate the other one at the moment, but—"

Erwin cut them off. "I'm afraid we won't catch the other anytime soon, assuming they're already alerted and planning to flee."

"What were their names?" I asked. Out of the four people I saw in the underground with Alexander, I needed to know who they caught.

"Officers Jinshi and Raymond have been apprehended," Hange said. "Carter is still on the loose."

"The woman? You let her go?" I said, frustration lacing my words. Who was she? Why has no one seen her before?

"We have no idea who she is. All we have is your description," Hange said.

It infuriated me. Loose ends. Always damn loose ends. I turned to Erwin. "What's our next move?"

Erwin's gaze met mine, a storm brewing in those blue eyes. "We need to find Alexander."

Hange chimed in, "And we're looking into more possible connections between the MPs and the underground activities."

I clenched my fists, a heavy feeling settling in my gut. This tangled web was getting more complex by the minute, and I couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that Alexander knew more than he let on. Just how much though? At what cost?

I need to keep an eye on Iris. Whether she was a pawn or a player, she held answers, and I intended to find them.

"Iris," Erwin said sternly. "Do you recognize the names we spoke?"

A heavy silence settled in the room. Why the hell is she silent now?

My fist slammed down on the table, demanding a response.

"Fucking answer," I barked at her. I watched her flinch, throwing a hand over her face.

"Levi," Erwin's voice warned.

"Yes," her voice quivered. "They were all best friends in training. Alexander sees them whenever he goes to Wall Sina."

"Very good. Thank you," Erwin acknowledged. "When was the last time he went to Wall Sina?"

"Last night, I think," she mumbled.

Last night? Alexander was in the damn underground, not Wall Sina. Is this another layer of his deceit? Why does she persist in lying to us? What the hell is she gaining from this?

I couldn't shake the feeling that Iris was entangled in a complex web of deception. Her hesitant responses and half-truths hinted at deeper involvement. The stakes were climbing, and I needed to unravel the truth before the whole damn thing tightened around us.

"Stop fucking lying," I bellowed, my face inches from hers. She stubbornly kept her eyes shut, a futile attempt to shield herself from the reality she couldn't escape.

"Levi," Hange's voice rose in protest.

"Levi, that's enough," Erwin's command cut through the tension, his grip on my shoulder pulling me away forcefully. But my frustration burned hotter than ever.

"Someone please. Tell me what's going on," she pleaded, her tears now a torrential stream. Fingers tangled in her unruly hair, she seemed to be unraveling.

"We have good reason to believe Alexander is a black market dealer in the underground. He's been stealing our equipment. We heightened security, but four Scouts have been murdered, ODM gear stolen," Erwin calmly laid out the damning truth.

Her tears hesitated, suspended in the air. Then, a violent shake of her head denied the allegations. She crumpled to the floor, clutching her stomach. Each sob seemed to echo the weight of the revelations, a heavy burden she couldn't bear.

"Please, Aldridge," Erwin pleaded, desperation lining his voice, but she disregarded it, storming out of the room with a slammed door punctuating her exit. The haunting echo lingered, amplifying the weight of the truth left unspoken.

This woman is nothing but trouble. I tried to follow her, but Erwin's firm grip on my arm halted my pursuit.

"Let her go, Levi," he urged, a knowing look in his eyes.

"What? Why? She's just going straight to Alexander," I protested, my frustration mounting.

"Exactly. She will learn the truth from him. She doesn't believe us now, but she will later," Erwin calmly asserted, a master strategist contemplating the next move.

"Don't tell me you bought that whole show she put on," I grumbled, unconvinced.

"It's obvious she doesn't know," Hange added. "You were way too hard on her."

"I was the only one being reasonable," I insisted, my determination clashing with their reassurances.

"You were being ridiculous," Erwin retorted, his calm demeanor rubbed against the storm brewing within me.

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"So, you just want us to wait here?" I grumbled at Erwin, my impatience bubbling beneath the surface.

"Precisely," he responded, a maddening calmness in his voice. We lingered outside Alexander's door, the hushed whispers within taunting us. Waiting felt like a pathetic charade. Why not just barge in?

Erwin rested his hand on my shoulder, leaning in to share his annoying pearls of wisdom.

"What do you hear? Is it cordial or insincere? Listen to her voice."

I shot him a disdainful look. What difference did it make? Yet, he urged me forward, pushing me to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Against the door, I strained to capture the unfolding drama. Erwin's method felt like a futile exercise in patience, but I complied.

"Just get your shit and let's go," Alexander's whisper cut through.

"No," Iris's voice, defiant and resolute, fought back. "I have something going for me here. You might not, but I do. I don't want any part of whatever the hell you are doing."

A sharp smack resonated through the door, followed by an ominous stumble.

"You stupid bitch," he snarled. "You thought I was giving you a choice? We are leaving."

The words hung in the air like an impending storm, and I could sense that beneath the surface, a tempest was brewing—one that threatened to shatter the fragile peace we clung to.

"No." Her voice, a sharp blade cutting through the air, declared defiance. "I am not going with you. You don't get to dictate my life anymore. I'm done."

The room hung suspended in silence, pregnant with tension. What dark theater of conflict played out behind that door? She was never a willing participant in his malevolent schemes; she was just the unintended casualty in his twisted narrative.

"Ow! You fucking bitch!" Alexander's enraged outburst reverberated, accompanied by the unsettling sound of coughing. Whose desperate breaths were those? The uncertainty clawed at me as chaos erupted within the room—objects crashing, glass shattering. Did he lay his hands on her?

Glancing at Erwin, I sought answers in his eyes, but he signaled restraint. The inexplicable scene played out, leaving me seething with restrained fury.

"Explain to me what's happening?" Erwin demanded, urgency coloring his tone.

"She's—" I began, struggling to articulate the storm of emotions.

"Calm down, Levi. Tell me what's going on in there. Clear your head," Erwin directed.

"He's- fuck- they're arguing," I gritted out. "She's just a puppet."

The door handle jiggled ominously. Erwin motioned us into the shadows of another hall, leaving me with a simmering frustration. Why the hesitation? Why not seize them now? Unanswered questions lingered, intensifying the enigmatic spectacle unfolding before us.

"Come on, you stupid bitch," Alexander spat, dragging Iris down the dimly lit hallway. My irritation flared, and I sidestepped Erwin, positioning myself to observe the twisted spectacle. Alexander, with his hand firmly on her neck and the other cruelly manipulating her left arm, appeared to have picked up a trick or two from my own repertoire. Not that he'd ever admit it.

Iris abruptly halted, locking eyes with Alexander. Tears streamed down her face, the terror etched into every quivering fiber. She didn't want to go.

"What do you think you're doing?" Alexander's anger reverberated through the corridor.

In a surge of defiance, Iris shoulder-checked Alexander, breaking free momentarily. However, her escape was short-lived as Alexander swiftly reined her in. Her desperate cries echoed, a haunting soundtrack to the scene unfolding.

"Be fucking quiet," he snarled, muffling her protests with a callous hand over her mouth. Against the cold, unforgiving wall, she became a mere pawn in his relentless game.

I shot a glance back at Erwin, once again waiting for his signal, but his eyes still signaled restraint. We remained concealed in the shadows, silent witnesses to this grim scene.

"You're a witness," Alexander hissed, his words dripping with malevolence. "You're coming with me. Be a good little whore and work for me."

Her face twisted in agony, each word from his venomous lips tightening his grip around her fragile throat.

"You'll fetch me a good sum. Perhaps your pretty boy will join you in the brothel. If you're lucky, he won't even recognize that face after I'm through."

The glimmer in her eyes faded, replaced by an all-encompassing fear that resonated with a primal part of me. Her desperate gaze sought mine, and a surge of raw fury coursed through my veins, urging me to intervene.

Before I could act, he heartlessly flung her to the cold floor, a swift kick targeting the already fractured ribs. Rage boiled within me, a visceral need to tear him away from her.

Emerging from the shadows, I confronted him, a tempest of red consuming my vision. Each punch was a declaration of my disdain, the muffled symphony of blows echoing the violence of the moment.

As hands yanked me back, a red curtain descended, obscuring the world. I pushed against the unseen barrier, my determination unwavering.

"Levi, breathe," Erwin's voice sliced through the frenzy, a grounding force against the crimson tide. The brick wall met my back as his firm arm pressed into my chest, a stark reminder of the brutal reality unfolding.

Amidst the echoes of Iris's slow sobs, a tempest of fury churned within me, yearning for Alexander's demise. I envisioned my fists soaked in his blood, relishing the sweet symphony of his final gasps. The desire for his death consumed me entirely.

Erwin's piercing gaze attempted to anchor me, his blue eyes reflecting my simmering rage. But indifference shrouded my senses; all I craved was the end of Alexander.

"Iris?" The name tumbled from my lips like an unbidden plea.

On the floor, Iris clung to her tormentor, her sobs intertwining with the chilling aftermath. Hange measured Alexander's pulse, while Miche struggled to detach Iris from the gruesome scene.

"Her ribs. Don't hold her like that."

"She needs medical," urgency coated my words, slicing through the suffocating tension. "Now."

Erwin sought to tether me against the wall, assuring medical attention for Iris. Disregarding his restraint, I surged toward her. Her labored breaths and the shift from fear to pain in her gaze compelled me to act. As I knelt beside her, an unsettling question lingered—

why was I entangled in the web of saving her?

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rinadragomir · 9 months

Text

Saga of finding out Matthew's endgame love interest🔎 join the investigation!

Volume Ⅰ

➤Esme Hardcastle

I'm starting with chronological order. We know that she used to have a crush on Matthew during the "Academy era".

Nothing but shadows:

Matthew's friendship made other friends creep forward, too. Esme cornered James and told him how sorry she was that Mike was being an idiot. She also told him that she hoped James did not take this expression of friendly concern in a romantic way.

"I have rather a tendresse for Matthew Fairchild, actually," Esme added. "Please put in a good word for me there."

Unfortunately, we haven't seen any of her interactions with Matthew during TLH🤷🏼‍♀️ But who knows, maybe after he returns to London we'll get something?👀 Personally, I found this idea pretty interesting, Esme seems like an adorable and confident girl✨

Volume Ⅱ

➤Eugenia Lightwood

Listen, listen. First of all I should mention what @roseofthomas validly pointed out: Matthew is officially 17 in the beginning of Chain of Gold and Eugenia is 21. And I also would be against anything romantic between them if it stayed this way. But TLH plot covers an entire year. So in Chot epilogue Matthew is already 18. And he leaves London for at least one year. So when he comes back he's 19. So what we got is ~ 19/23. Which is not a huge gap and Matthew will be an adult. Everyone remembers Malec's age gap? Diana & Gwyn? Yeah...So everything I'm talking about below I say in the context of Matthew being 19. Deal?🌱🌿Deal🌸🪷

I reread every part where she's mentioned. And I can confirm that we didn't get any info on how Matthew sees Eugenia except "she's a good girl". We know that she's not exactly a part of "the gang", at least before Chain of Thorns. She had her own group with Catherine, Ari and Rosamund and Barbara. So it's unlikely that Matthew sees her as some older cousin like James does.

Interactions:

1. Thomas’s sister Eugenia had danced with Matthew, tossing her long dark hair.

2. It was Eugenia, who had come up to them, her yellow cap askew on her dark hair. “Never mind. I am not interested in your dull friends. Matthew, will you dance with me?” “Eugenia.” Matthew looked at her with a weary affection. “I am not in a dancing mood.” “Matthew.” Eugenia looked woebegone. “Piers keeps stepping on my feet, and Augustus is lurking about as if he wants a waltz, which I just can’t manage. One dance,” she wheedled. “You’re an excellent dancer, and I’d like to have a bit of fun.” Matthew looked long-suffering but allowed Eugenia to lead him out onto the floor.

✨Parallels✨

1) Eugenia was kinda "dating" Augustus Pounceby, who actually loved Catherine but still gave Eugenia an idea that they can work. Apparently he saw her as an "if I can't get Catherine, I can at least have Eugenia"

Matthew was kinda "dating" Cordelia, who actually loved James but still gave Matthew hope for her affection. Apparently for Daisy it was "if I can't have James, I can at least be with him"

2) Eugenia leaves London after Augustus proposes to Catherine. She feels humiliated and wants to be away from Enclave to get some peace.

Matthew leaves London after Cordelia breaks up with him and comes back to James. He wants to heal and doesn't really want to be around Jordelia for some time, cause he's still getting over Daisy.

3) Eugenia returns to London after a few months and acts pretty confidently. It's implying that she healed mentally in Idris and is ready to be back in action. She's slowly becoming a part of the gang but it still looks like she spends more time by herself.

I believe that Matthew eventually returns after a year or so and I expect him to act pretty much the same. Like he feels healed, has more confidence in himself and is fine with being around kissing Jordelia. But he still feels a bit lonely (my theory)

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My bestie @afloralrib mentioned that their relationship has "Penelope & Colin" vibes and has some valid parallels WHICH IS TRUE

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Volume Ⅲ

➤Claude Kellington

Exes, exes...like yeah BUT CASSIE said "no obvious love interest". And I believe that ex is someone who immediately comes to mind, so idk....and he broke his heart🥺. Still possible tho~

Volume Ⅳ

I remember someone mentioned Matthew/Grace but...I really don't think that it can work between them, even though he forgave her. So we'll just have to wait and see🌿🌱

𓇬Epilogue𓇬

That's it, my researchers. Thank you for joining me in this pointless adventure 🫶 cause Cassie will probably say that his true love is Claribella and leave it be💅🏻

#matthew fairchild #tlh #the last hours #chain of thorns #eugenia lightwood #esme hardcastle #claude kellington #grace blackthorn #cassadra clare #chot #cordelia carstairs #james herondale

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herelieseddie · 1 year

Text

a starter for @goldenliight ( lilith alden ) !

there's no light in the boathouse , moonlight barely penetrating the darkness where the door should be . eddie sits , back resting against the boat , with a cigarette in one hand & tin of cold beans in the other . sure , he could have warmed it up in the house , but what's the point ?

taking a long drag from the cigarette , he looks around at the emptiness . & then he blinks & there's someone standing in the empty doorway where there had been no one a second ago . ❝ what the f - ❞ eddie jumps to his feet , knocking his half drank can of beer over in his haste .

❝ who - where - ❞ cigarette is dropped & forgotten about while he grabs the rotten oar for a weapon . he's so fucked .

#Ⅱ. interactions.#Ⅱ. verse ; arc two.#goldenliight

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uhhhitsgray · 1 year

Text

More Than Meets the Eye

This was supposed to be a short little vash stampede x reader drabble, but the fic started writing me and it's now turned into a short (?) little story. I have no idea, there will be more than just this chapter!

Warnings: 18 + themes, lots of cussing this chapter, kind of dangerous and violent. reader uses a gun for self defense purposes and we're a badass and take care of ourselves and vash

If any other tags should be added, let me know. Warnings are a bit all over the place for this chapter.

↳ Table of Contents ↳ Chapter Ⅱ: A Box of Doughnuts

Chapter Ⅰ: Name's Vash

Life for Vash was never easy. With the nickname “Humanoid Typhoon” bad luck seemed to follow him everywhere he went.

If it wasn’t bad luck, it was all the looks people gave him when he wandered from town to town. How could all these people know who he was? Truly know him enough to judge him just by a name.

Finding peace and comfort was so out of Vash’s wheelhouse of emotions at this point that when anything was going right, he couldn’t help but dread the day everything would come crashing down. But the dreadful feeling that filled his stomach wasn’t for no reason. Anytime he was happy, the nature of the nickname “Humanoid Typhoon” would happen, everything he loved would be destroyed. His homes, his blooming happiness and the people he loved - all gone in a blink of an eye. He’s lost too much.

That’s why when he stumbled into your bar late one evening covered in blood and bruises asking for help he figured this interaction would be no different.

It was late, almost 2 am and your bar was empty as you hummed to yourself cleaning up for the night. Little drops of rain could be heard hitting the windows, a sound that could almost lull you to sleep.

The peaceful sound was loudly interrupted when you heard a loud thud coming from the entrance of your bar. “What the hell was that?!” You toss your damp towel down making your way to the door.

As you round the corner to the door you see him there, sliding down the wall as a bloody hand covers his abdomen. He was hard to not recognize, the contrast of his blonde and black hair, and the bright red jacket.

The humanoid typhoon had stumbled into your bar.

“Can you - fuck,” He bent over in pain, a strained groan leaving his mouth.

“Oh fuck, shit!” You bent down next to him, holding pressure over his hand that was covering an assumed wound. Your eyes flung to the door as you hear the faint sound of men yelling through the streets probably looking for him.

“Can you move if I help you?” Your eyes found his. He looked tired, in pain, like he was screaming for help without saying a word.

His eyes softened at your question as he nodded his head. “Awesome, let’s go.” You waste no time pulling his arm over your shoulder, grabbing onto his wrist to help him stand, your other hand wrapping around his waist - careful to not squeeze too close to his wound.

“Let’s go around this corner into the kitchen.” You pull his arm over your shoulder more so you could bear more of his weight as he’s struggling to walk. “My office is in the back, I’m going to set you down there and make sure no one is following us.” You look to your left at him, his head hanging low, feet stumbling across the floor, his skin paler than it was just a few seconds ago.

“Hey, come on.” You gently push your shoulder up into his armpit to try to get some type of reaction from him. “Blondie, come on. Don’t fucking die on me.” You staggered a few more steps into your office, as you set him down on the floor kneeling next to him. “Stay with me, okay?” His head slumps to the side a bit, eyes barely open. “Shit,” you grab his face in your hand, your thumb rubbing his cheek. “Hey, stay with me. I’ll be right back, okay?”

You gently let go of his face, as you begin to walk away his hand reaches up grabbing yours. “I’ll be right back, okay? I wanna make sure we’re safe. I’m going to close this door, okay? I’ll be right back, Blondie.” You squeeze his hand, “You’re safe here.”

You close your office door, your mind goes into overdrive with a billion things racing around.

Why’s the humanoid typhoon in my bar?

How’d he get here?

Why is he all bloody and bruised?

You shake your head.

No, it doesn’t matter. We’re going to help him. It’s fine, totally fine.

You nod to yourself as you jog back out to the front of the bar, grabbing the damp towel and walking towards the door. Luckily, he didn’t bleed much over your floor, just a few drops you quickly wipe up before the front door flies open.

In comes three men, three dangerous looking men. The first that walked through the door looked like he had just been in a fight, his knuckles were busted and bleeding. His left eye was purple and blue, and his lip was swollen.

The second man wasn’t much better looking, rocking the same damages without the busted eye. His curly hair was short, and stuck to his forehead with sweat and something darker that looked like blood.

The third man that trailed in looked pretty damage free compared to the other two, just a busted lip. His shirt was ripped, and had a mixture of what you assumed to be blood and dirt on it.

The fuck is this? Some gang type shit? We got knuckles, curly q and t-shirt - got it.

“Where is he?!” Knuckles yells. As he takes a step forward you get a better look at him, he’s got a pistol strapped to his thigh and a knife on his belt.

You take a deep breath, swallowing down the terror that filled your body. “Where’s who?” You dumbly asked, a confused look on your face.

“Him.” Knuckles said sternly as his hand rested on the grip of his pistol.

You deadpan and shrug your shoulders, acting as if you didn’t have a care in the world. “Who’s him? Him could be a lot of people.”

Curly q takes a step forward, raising his hand and slapping you across your cheek. You stumble back into the wall, falling to the floor wincing in pain. “Ow, asshole.” Your eyes catch a glimpse of your metal bat under the bar counter tucked away out of sight from the standing men.

Knuckles stepped forward, the tip of his boot hitting your knees looking down to you. “I won’t fucking ask again. Where the fuck is he?!” You shied away from his screaming, moving a little closer to the bat. You looked up at him, anger flashed across his features.

“Who the fuck is he?! How am I supposed to know who that is if you don’t tell me!” You yell back, moving just a bit more. “No one’s been in here all evening! I was just trying to close and you assholes come barging in asking where ‘he’ is.” Making air quotes around he, you needed to keep wasting time, the bat was so close - just a bit out of reach.

Knuckles grumbles above you, reaching for his back pocket to pull out a picture of who they kept referring to as ‘him’.

Morons, how hard was it to just say the humanoid typhoon?

With the paper shoved in your face and his dirty finger pointing at the picture he yells, “Him! The fucking typhoon, we saw him run in here.”

You laugh, leaning to the side, fingers finding the handle of the bat. “No one’s come into my bar. Now get the fuck out so I can close.”

“You’re starting to piss me off, where is he!” Knuckles leans down, and once he was eye level with you, you swung the bat and you swung it hard. The bat makes contact with his head, as he falls to the floor, blood oozing from the contact point. His pistol falls from it’s strap, sliding towards you, as you quickly grab it aiming it curly q and t-shirt.

You slowly stand up, kicking the bat behind you out of all of their reach. “Now get the fuck out.” You point the gun between the two left standing.

“Woah, come on little lady.” T-shirt puts his hands up, taking a slow step forward. You release the safety on the gun, pulling the slide back to confirm a bullet is ready.

“I’ll tell you one more time. If you take another step forward I’ll fucking shoot.” Your finger moves over to wrap around the trigger, ready to shoot at any moment. “Get the hell out while you can still walk!”

Curly q takes a slow step forward, “We know he’s here.”

“Don’t!” You shoot into the wooden floor next to him. They look at each other seeming unfazed by your warning shot.

“We just want to take him, and we’ll be out of your hair.” T-shirt steps forward again, you aim the pistol down and shoot straight through his knee. “Fucking bitch!” He falls to the floor holding his knee, groaning in agony.

Your eyes shift to curly q whose face is paler than Casper the ghost. “Take these two,” you kick the groaning man next to you who took the bat to the head. “And leave. If I ever see you step foot in here again, you’ll be six feet under.” Curly q nods his head frantically as he reaches for knuckles first, you kneel down meeting him at his level. When his eyes meet yours, you push the tip of the pistol into his temple, “Do I make myself clear?”

He nods his head, “Yes, yes.”

“Good.” You stand up and keep a watchful eye as he gathers up his two friends and makes it out of your bar. T-shirt hobbles out, blood dripping down his leg and onto your floors. Curly q is holding knuckles up as he drags him out of the bar, barely conscious. Once out of the bar you slam the door behind them, locking it before you turn back to rush to your office.

You swing open the office door, and find the blonde sitting on your office chair, jacket off, shirt pulled up just enough to expose his cut he was holding earlier. You look up to your open cabinet over your desk, it’s where you’d normally have your first aid kit but it’s open on your desk as he tries to dress his wound.

“Hey I can help you, hang on.” You rush over to his side, removing his hand and gauze that he was holding. Your eyes widened at the wound, it was deep, like possibly needing stitches deep. It was still bleeding a bit, but nothing like earlier.

“Don’t. It’s fine, I got it.” He pulls his hand away from your grip, applying the pressure to his wound as he looks through the first aid kit.

You scoff at him as you pull the first aid kit away, “You’re in no condition to do this yourself, you looked like you were about to pass out a few minutes ago. Let me at least help you.”

The blonde breathes out behind you, probably too sore and tired to fight back with you. “Are you okay?” He mumbles out behind you, slightly wincing from the pain. “I heard gunshots and yelling.”

You turn around with some medical cleaning supplies for his wound in hand, and a crooked smile on your face. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I’m here aren’t I? I’m fine.”

His blue irises find yours as he searches your face, a look of sadness spreads across his already tired expression. He leans his head back on the wall, his arms falling to his sides. “Did they do that to you?”

You pause, reaching up to your cheek, squinting your eye at the stinging pain. “Can you hold your shirt up so I can clean your cut?” You kneel down next to his leg, ignoring his question.

He nods his head and reaches up, long fingers grab at the fabric of his shirt exposing his stomach. From just this little peak of his body you could tell he’s been through hell. How long has he been on the run? Who’s done this to him? He’s covered in scars, new bruises and old ones. Now this wound will add to the scars.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed, running his free hand through his hair. “I’m sorry they did that to you.” Your eyes stayed focused on his cut, carefully cleaning it with the damp gauze. “It’s fine, I’m fine. They’re gone, and I doubt they’ll come back.”

“Wh - what do you mean?”

You ignore his question again, the only thing on your mind is taking care of him. But not here, not in your office - it’s uncomfortable, small and you need other supplies that are at your house. “Can I take you back to my place?” You blurt out.

He cocks an eyebrow to you, “Little fast paced, aren’t you?” He smiles.

You smile back, shaking your head. “No, not in that way, Blondie. I’ve got more medical supplies at my place, and it’ll be more comfortable.”

His eyes move to the floor, “It’s fine, this should be enough. I’ve already caused enough trouble for you.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t done before, I’m fine. You’re not on the other hand, so let’s go Blondie.” You close up your first aid kid, putting it back on the shelf.

He weakly stands up, grabbing his coat. “Name’s Vash.”

#vash stampede #trigun vash #trigun stampede #trigun #vash x you #vash x reader #vash is actually a cutie and deservers happiness #trigun fanfiction

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ahkylous · 2 months

Text

Drifting Stars Masterlist Ⅱ

I never thought there would be a part two of this solely because of the limited number of fanfictions there actually are for this au. Yet here we are, four months later and somehow able to make this post. Same rules apply; general order of favourites, you are all entitled to your own opinion, add any I may have missed, and that's kinda it.

Onward!

Disconnected by DarrowWyrlde - 4th part of a series, 2 028 words, 2/13

Ok so this one probably should not be in this post at all since it's not drifting stars and more of a lost legends fic. I only put this one here because it's still about Mabel in the multiverse and who knows, maybe that's why you read drifting stars. I don't have much else to say, just thought I'd put it here.

Drift Away by GravityUniverse115 - oneshot, 1 174 words, 1/1

This one was written well despite it being fairly short, the only catch being that it - again - is not entirely drifting stars. It is about Mabel going through the portal, but it is written more as a concept in comparison to a typical oneshot. If someone did write a fic based off of this tho I would definitely read it.

The Drifting Star by Booblybaba - standalone, 35 337 words, 15/?

This was your typical drifting stars fic, I don't have too much else to say except that it was good and that it ends just as I was getting into it. It was a bit fast paced but again, not bad.

Into the Unknown by MintGreenMare - standalone, 31 681 words, 22/22

Finished and Drifting Stars does not go in the same sentence, and yet this fic exists. Fully complete, 100% resolved. It only took like 9 years for someone to actually finish writing one of these. It did take me a bit to get into it compared to other stuff I've read, mostly because it feels more like a collection of oneshots as opposed to a whole fic, but I did still enjoy it.

Ad Astra by Queen_Mab - standalone, 103 406 words, 18/?

So many people go crazy for this fic and I kinda get why, the worldbuilding is done really well and the stuff going on back in Gravity Falls is a lot more interesting than just Dipper and Stan rebuilding the portal. The only setback for me is that it feels unrealistic and was almost pushed too far in some aspects. But again, I get the appeal and do wanna see what would happen next.

Save That Light by Mezzorellasticks - standalone, 11 293 words, 5/?

I'm surprised there aren't more fic's with some of the concepts in this one. I won't spoil it but I could see this happening to Mabel more than once and yet no one has written about it. Some parts felt a little off in terms of character but overall it was pretty cool.

A Familiar Face by Missintroverted - 1st part of a series, 2 350 words, 1/1

This is another fic that's not entirely drifting stars but at the same time kinda is. Instead of Mabel being fully related to Ford, it's another version of her but older (possibly a relativity + reverse portal version). I thought it interesting and I enjoyed the interaction between the two.

Among The Stars by Maviiigirl - standalone, 4 603 words, 2/?

This fic follows the typical outline so far; Mabel falling through the portal, Ford being an awkward dumbass, the two figuring out what's going on before any proper multiverse madness occurs. But the way it was written was really good, that and the fact that this author also wrote a very good oneshot which gives me hope for the future of this fic.

A Little Help by Maviiigirl - oneshot, 3 130 words, 1/1

I thought this oneshot was so cool. Mabel being all responsible while internally panicking and Ford being delusional was actually so funny to me. Some parts were a little quick but overall I thought it was really well done. I kinda wanna see it be continued just to see what Ford would say when he woke up tho.

That's mostly it, if I were to compare the two list's I'd say the quality of the fics from the other one are far better, but these one's are a lot more recent meaning there is hope that some of them will be continued.

I didn't mean to insult any of these, I find my main problem with fanfiction is the way the characters are written and the way characters bond, especially since many are rushed and often there isn't enough time allowed for certain emotions to properly form before diving straight into hurt/comfort. I understand tho, I struggle with that a lot in my writing too.

Anyway, here's the first masterlist if you wanna look at those too :))

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poptart-productions · 1 year

Text

『 002 | training corps : mikasa 』

[snk series]

previous | series masterlist | next

↳ ❝ [summary] ¡! ❞

after making your first friend in armin arlert , you find yourself drawn to the enigmatic mikasa ackermann—though it appears she doesn’t like you all that much

↳ ❝ [content] ¡! ❞

black fem! reader ; first person p.o.v ; jealous / tsundere ( ? ) mikasa ; eren and armin x reader content ; training / sparring ; language ; sasha , ymir & christa ( and connie ig ) x reader content ; awkward interactions ; anxiety attack / blood

——————————✩———————————

now playing:

[reluctant heroes]-[hiroyuki sawano]

0:00 ❍─────── 3:18

↻ ⊲ Ⅱ ⊳ ↺

✧;── 002 ──;✧

I DIDN’T WANT TO GET MY HOPES UP AT THE TIME—BUT I SUSPECTED THAT THOSE TWO WERE MY FRIENDS.

armin arlert and eren jaeger.

i’d only known them for a short while but i felt close to them ; maybe it was the way armin shared his dreams and aspirations with me.

it was the night we met , after he’d stumbled out of the mess hall , wishing me a happy birthday.

“[y/n] , right? i knew it was you”

my throat dried up and the grip on the tray tightened , “yeah , it’s me—i thought you didn’t . . .remember me”

he fidgets with his hands behind his back , a small chuckle pulling at his lips ,“i did! i just—i was just worried you wouldn’t recognize me”

“—but i wanted to thank you again for saving me” i mumbled ‘you’re welcome’ , and armin raced to fill the impending silence , “i’m sorry i was eavesdropping just now”

“no , that’s okay.”

we stood there , staring at each other until the end-of-supper bell rang.

i discarded the remains of the “food” and walked away , relieved that the interaction was over.

all that tension crept back into my muscles when i realized we were headed in the same direction.

i drew in a long , exasperated breath.

i should say something.

i then turned to armin with an equally exasperated expression , “so—which regiment are you going into after graduation?”

“the scouting regiment”

some of the tension rolled off my shoulders , and i stared at armin wide-eyed ,“me too. . .!” “. . .it’s just that—i want to help.”

“me too” armin’s smile deepened , “well , i suppose some of it is me wanting to go outside”

“it’s always been my dream to see what’s out there—i know it’s st—“ “—it’s good to have dreams.”

he looked startled by my sudden interruption , ears dusted pink , “. . .thanks.”

“hey , armin!” it was one of armin’s closest friends.

the boy ; the tall one with pretty eyes.

he stopped approaching when he noticed me , “lights out soon.” he turned to armin , who nodded his head , “right , sorry.”

armin’s friend glanced at me , and i waved at him.

he stays silent , squinting his eyes at me ,“hey , aren’t you that nosebleed gi—“ armin nudged him in the ribs , “—right.”

“i’m eren jaeger.”

“[y/n] [l/n].”

it was completely silent after that.

exhausted , i kept walking toward the girls’ dorms , “i’m gonna turn in for now. goodnight , you two” i threw a wave over my shoulder.

“[y/n]!” armin called after me , and i turned back to him , “you can call me armin , if you want” a bashful smile was playing on his lips.

i smiled back ,“i will.”

we’d been attached at the hip ever since.

armin was so sweet and attentive ; he always wanted to ask me about myself—though i preferred to listen to him.

armin is a genius—he taught me something new every day , and he excelled in any written exam or class.

the way he spoke about his dreams was enthralling ; the way he’d look at me starry-eyed , and would speak until he was out of breath.

and eren—despite his belligerent exterior , i found him to be delightfully boyish , in a way—in a lot of ways.

the way he’d giggle and punch my arm when we took turns trading friendly jabs at one another.

the way he’d get so competitive—and most times about the most insignificant things ; once demanding a rematch for an eating contest i didn’t actually know i was competing in.

they were always so eager to help me and others–even eren , though it was sometimes followed by teasing on his part.

they were so refreshing , and the more time i spent with them the more others made an effort to talk to me.

even now , i could never dream of paying them back.

but of course , i can't speak about those two without mentioning mikasa ackermann ; the third of armin’s friend group , and the best recruit in the trainee corps.

her connection to those two—particularly with eren—can’t be underestimated.

the three are childhood friends , and they were always together.

though she was stoic with me and others , she was loyal and caring in her own way.

she would often fret over her friends —asking if armin was alright , or where eren was.

in addition to being an amazing friend , she was a very formidable opponent—in every sense of the term.

i knew to keep my head down around her after she threw the two-hundred-pound reiner braun over her shoulder like a backpack.

my general weariness around ackermann was worsened by the fact that she didn’t appear to like me all that much—only confirming my suspicions the first day she spoke to me.

everyone gathered in the mess hall for breakfast , and i took my new spot between eren and armin.

eren nudged me , “—heard you were m.i.a during drills again.”

he spoke in between bites , “don’t speak with your mouth full , eren.”

the sudden sound of ackermann’s voice startled me ; she’d stopped eating and turned to eren—but it still felt like she was staring through him.

she knitted her eyebrows together and i turned away , waiting for eren’s response.

he grumbled something about wishing she’d stop treating him like her ‘kid brother’

i then answered eren’s comment, “—yeah , i got another nosebleed.”

it seems that eren took ackermann’s words to heart , as he finished chewing before speaking , “i figured as much. . .”

“what’s the deal with that anyway?” he continued , “you’ve been getting nosebleeds for the past—what—fifteen years?”

“it’s getting seriously worrisome. it’s shaping up to be a chronic illness at this rate” armin added , leaning over the table to look at me.

“i guess i never really thought about it all that much.” i then made the mistake of letting the conversation die out.

i made the second mistake of prodding ackermann by asking , “so—ackermann—how is your morning so far?”

“the same.” she stirs her soup with vigor, fingers clenched around the spoon.

my mind was racing desperately for another subject to divert attention to , when i remembered that i hadn’t shown them [b/n]’s gift.

i smiled as i fished the necklace from my breast pocket , and the two eyed me curiously.

“oh? what’s this?” eren studied the pendant , “can i see it?” he asked , but didn’t wait for an answer before snatching it from my hand.

he held the jewel up to his right eye , looking back at me with a grin , “is your brother rich?”

“no!” i punched his arm , “it. . .” i averted my gaze , “it was my mother’s.”

eren gave it back to me , and i started fumbling with it behind my neck–a failed attempt at putting it on.

eren snorted , “here,” before scooting closer to me ; his cold fingers grazed my collar in his efforts to clasp the necklace shut.

when he backed away , i smiled down at the crystal , murmuring a ‘thank you’.

armin’s eyes creased in his smile, “it’s beautiful.”

“yeah , it looks great.” eren nods.

ackermann dropped her spoon on her tray—and it was purposeful—the clatter halting all conversation at that table for a moment.

when i glanced over to see what the sound was , i found myself paralyzed ; gripped by her menacing aura.

she looked upon me with such disgust.

i’m sorry , “i–” i tried to speak.

i finally tore my eyes away from hers , digging my nails into the wood beneath my fingers–i was losing more oxygen than i was taking in.

“[y/n]?” armin leans toward me , gingerly placing a hand on my shoulder.

i gripped his wrist , squeezing until he was forced to let me go—but i didn’t , “ow��that hurts—“

i only released my grip when blood pooled into my mouth ; i recoiled at the taste as i stared at him , eyes wide as dinner plates.

i looked down , bowing my head , “excuse me.” with that , i got up and walked away.

“mikasa!” i heard eren scolding her behind me.

i kept moving forward without a clear destination in sight , only stopping when i reached the girls’ dormitory.

i’d been curled up on my bunk for god knows how long , staring ahead—trying to ask myself why i reacted the way i did.

“[l/n]?” i jumped at the sound of a girl’s voice , startled.

i looked up to find a petite girl that i knew as christa lenz. up until that moment , i’d never talked to her , but i did know that she was particularly popular among male recruits.

lenz maintains a respectful distance as she asks , “you left the mess hall in a hurry ; are you alright?” “yeah—i’m fine.”

she nods , though it's clear she wasn't all that convinced , “well , i’m glad.”

“we’re. . .” she pulled her hair back , “about to start drills soon.”

“thanks.” i wiped my face with my sleeve , stretching as i stood up.

“hey ,” a girl enters the dorm , greeting us without a second thought.

“good morning , sasha!” lenz beamed.

it’s sasha braus—as i thought.

the brunette from dauper , although most knew her as the ‘potato girl’.

she was given the nickname after being caught by commander shadis eating a potato on the first day of basic training.

christa and i stared as she finished her snack in silence.

it’s on her way out of the dorm that she stops in her tracks , “what are you two doing in here all alone. . .-”

her hand flies to cover her mouth ; we only stare at her as she glances between us.

she slowly dropped her hand , “does ymir know?”

“—do i know what?”

just like that , another girl comes sauntering into the room ; she eyes me and braus suspiciously as she approaches.

i knew of her ; the freckled one who usually keeps to herself. she only pipes up when lenz is involved in some way.

she stopped in front of me before gesturing for sasha to go on ; sasha–naturally–responded by loudly “whispering” , “christa’s cheating on you.”

ymir glanced at me , tilting her head and squinting her eyes at me.

she chokes back a laugh as she pats the top of my head , “she looks like she’s been crying ; i doubt these two were up to anything”

“besides,” she punches braus in the back “--ow!” “christa would never do anything like that” “—what did i do?!” “—ymir! cut that out!”

i managed to slip out unnoticed during all the commotion , finding myself chuckling to myself while heading to the field.

i thought they were funny.

i like them.

✧;── 🕰️ ──;✧

“yoo-hoo—[l/n]—are you in there?” i blinked “—yes!?”

my vision focused on braus , who was currently waving her hand in front of my face.

she sits back down , and i tilt my head at her , “what is it , sasha?”

“are you. . .” she lifts her shaky index finger , pointing toward my tray , “gonna eat that?”

of course she’d ask me that

i sigh , “sure” she snatched the bread off my tray , slamming her hand down with incredible force, “you’re the best!”

pressing my lips together , i push my tray aside and rest my head in my hands.

lenz and ymir trade glances before the blonde leans toward me , “you seem out of it , are you okay?”

“yeah—“ i sigh , “i just have a problem i’m trying to find the solution to”

“is it about jaeger?” i looked up to find ymir mirroring my pose ; i found my eyebrows knitting themselves together , “what makes you say that?”

ymir snickered , “you normally sit by him—and he’s been looking over here the whole time

she leans over the table , narrowing her eyes at me , “lover’s quarrel?” the smaller girl nudged her, “ymir!”

“no , it’s about ackermann , actually” ymir paused, “i think she hates me.” i continued.

“i don’t particularly blame her.” the girl shrugged , “she was always with him before you came along.”

ymir raised her brows at me , and i stared back at her—puzzled.

“what?” i immediately began stuttering out nonsense about how it’s ‘not like that’—which i’m sure only made me look worse.

now finished with her food , braus finally rejoined the conversation , “what are we talking about?”

the three of us all stop and stare at her as she looks around , confused.

she never got her answer , as we were interrupted , “hey guys—“ a male recruit comes walking up to the table with his tray.

“hey connie.” braus greeted , not looking away from us.

“jean’s being a sore loser ; can i sit here for now?” “sure.” “great , thanks”

i glance up at connie , taking in his appearance ; his shaved head was his most prominent feature.

he was the only recruit with a buzz cut , so i recognized him quickly.

right , the kid who got the salute wrong. that incident happened right before braus’s potato-related blunder.

i giggled to myself , and that’s when connie noticed me ; he stopped eating and stared at me ,

he then probably realized that he was being rude , “hey. . . ?” he greeted , “hello.” i greeted him.

he leans towards braus , and the two proceed to loudly whisper in front of me , “since when are you friends with her?” “since she shared her food with me”

“but isn’t she like—really weird?” “no!”

as they continued , i looked over to find ymir and christa looking exasperated and confused.

clearing my throat , i maintain eye contact with connie as he trailed off , “. . .sorry.”

“i’m connie springer.”

“[y/n]. . .[l/n]”

the table’s conversation continued like normal , but my mind wandered off.

maybe ymir was onto something before we got interrupted.

ackermann may be getting the wrong idea about my feelings for eren.

it’s a misunderstanding,

i can fix it.

↳ ❝ [nova’s notes + tags] ¡! ❞

next one’s gonna be long so it’ll take awhile

in the meantime , i wanna rewrite the rockstar au bc it’s so corny lol

@y-yinyang , @cafesho , @blackdxggr , @bambam1sa

#nonblacks dni #anime #fanfic #black reader #eren x reader #attack on titan #eren x black reader #eren x black y/n #aot x reader #aot x black reader #armin x black reader #mikasa x reader

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nazukisser · 10 months

Text

SHUFFLE ⨯ SCRIBBLE FESTIVAL ; An enstarsblr collaborative writing project

Ⅰ. SUMMARY

Scribble festival is a collaboration between writers in the enstars x reader community. All requests will be collected via a Google Form, which all participating writers will have access to. Any writer may write any request they want.

Ⅱ. WHAT IS THE SCRIBBLE FESTIVAL?

The scribble festival is a collaboration between writers in the enstars x reader community, where readers can send requests to all of the writers, and they won’t know who wrote their request until it is published. There will be a Google form for readers to submit their requests, and all the writers who are participating will be able to choose a request to write.

This provides an opportunity for writers to write requests they may not see otherwise and for readers to get a taste of all of these writers’ writing styles, as well as an element of surprise for the readers when they see who wrote their request!

Ⅲ. RULES & GUIDELINES

For requesters;

Please be respectful to the writers when requesting! We always love a bit of small talk, and we will respond to it. We love interaction, so please feel free to interact with us in your requests & our inboxes!

Please try to keep the options open for writers who will write your request(s); that is part of the point of the event, but if you don’t like certain writers, we also would like to respect that.

The writers reserve the right to refuse any request sent into the form.

Please do not send spam/trolls into the form.

Platonic & romantic is available, as well as headcanons & drabbles.

Feel free to specify fluff/angst/comfort etc.

You can request SMAUs as well, but please know that not all writers may be inclined to write them.

Please do not request the following: yandere, nsfw, dark content, noncon.

For writers;

Please make sure to update the spreadsheet when you “claim” a request!

You will be posting the work on your blog, so please write a note somewhere in your post acknowledging this collaboration project.

If the user chooses to submit their URL so that you can tag them when the fic comes out, please tag them (whether in the post itself or in a reblog)

Writers must have at least one work posted to join.

Please join our discord server (link below in part Ⅴ) to best communicate with us! A channel for this will be created with only the participating writers for easy communication within those involved.

For all;

If you have any questions regarding this event, please contact Qian @nazukisser, Lin @yulin-chu, Kel @analog-heart-beater, Cherise @crazylovemail, or Yuuki @yuukienstarsera.

NEW! Please use the tag #scribblefes! 2023 for all scribblefes-related posts

Questions sent to us will be posted to the Q&A Post (link below in part Ⅴ) so please check this post before asking because it may have your answer there. Thank you!

Ⅳ. PROCEDURES & SCHEDULE

June 30: announcement is made, writer sign up form is opened

July 02: reminder announcement about the event

July 02: writer sign up form is closed

July 08: announcement about requests opening is made, requests Google form is released

July 18: request form closes

Writers will publish requests on their own schedule.

Ⅴ. QUICK LINKS

Writer Sign Up Form [disc link is within the form]

Participating Writers

Request Form

Q&A Post

Works Masterlist

#scribblefes! 2023 #ensemble stars #enstars #ensemble stars x reader #enstars x reader

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