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#Was it mild mania?? who knows!!!

mrsriddles-blog · 1 month

Text

Mania | T.N

Pairing: Theodore Nott X Slytherin Fem Reader

WC: 5.5k+

Warnings/Notes: Mild language, slow-burn, drugs...

Summary: In which you are Theodore Nott's mania...

“Mattheo Riddle…Tom Riddle and Y/n Riddle…hm, I believe this is the first time I’ve had all three Riddle’s in my class this year at once. It’s good of you to finally show up for your lessons, triplets.” Professor Umbridge says.

“We are more than happy to grace you with our presence.” Mattheo says cheekily.

“I don’t believe I asked for your input.” She says, looking over him once.

“I don’t believe we asked for yours.” Mattheo says.

“Matt.” Tom warns quietly.

“That’s it, detention! All three of you.” She snaps.

“I didn’t say anything! I was trying to shut him up!” Tom snaps annoyed.

“Mr. Riddle, would you like to make that two days of detention?” She asks.

Tom clenches his jaw, glowering at her as he chooses silence. His gaze slips over to Mattheo who smiles lazily at him. You were already working on your assignment from her. You pause, feeling a presence near you as a shadow casts over your parchment.

“I’m surprised you’ve got nothing to say Ms. Riddle.” She says.

You slowly look up, looking at her blankly. She smiles as if she were delighted that you had no reaction, nor no words. She reaches out, grabs your wrist and looks at the scars on your hand from her punishment.

“If only you Riddle’s could learn to behave.” She tsks.

“She hasn’t even said anything!” Draco defends.

“Malfoy, would you also like to join the Riddle’s in detention?” She asks and he stays silent.

Everyone shifted uncomfortably as the air shifted. You pull your wrist free from her, immediately wringing your hands together as Mattheo puts a hand on your shoulder.

“You need to calm down. Everyone is feeling your magic.” He mutters.

That didn’t help your case. In fact, it made you feel more anxious, so you stood and packed up your stuff before leaving the classroom quickly. You knew you were going to be in loads of trouble because of your father, but it didn’t quite matter to you.

“Skipping Umbridge’s class, too?” Theodore asks, standing at the top of the Astronomy Tower, smoking.

“My magic started to get the best of me. It made the room get that uncomfortable feel and I couldn’t control it, so I left. And I got detention for Mattheo’s smart mouth.” You mumble, standing next to him.

“Sounds like Mattheo, but Umbridge also holds a grudge against you and your brothers simply for who your father is.” He says.

“I know, but it’s exhausting. We share one last name, and suddenly I’m hated and feared. I may share the same views, but I don’t agree with the way things have been handled.” You sigh.

You relax as he throws his arm over your shoulder. You allow yourself to lean into his warmth more, the chilly air beginning to affect you.

You always found yourself comfortable in Theodore’s presence. Yes, he was the dark, gloomy, brooding bad boy everyone warns you away from, but you found solace in his presence. Unbeknownst to you, you were the sunshine in Theodore’s life. Anytime you walked in a room, those gloomy looming clouds parted and allowed him to bask in your light.

Theodore was quiet, understanding, methodical, logical, and calm. His presence soothed you more than you’d like to admit. You were quiet, but one wrong word being said could set your fiery tongue ablaze. No one could ever reign you back, no one, but Theodore Nott. The moment he’d whisper in your ear or rest a hand on the small of your back always sent you quiet. It was like a wave of tranquility washing over you.

“Y/n! What were you thinking? Now you're going to be kept longer.” Mattheo hissed as he stormed into the room with your friends and Tom not far behind.

“I needed to leave. My magic was making you all uncomfortable and it didn’t help with you telling me to calm down. I knew I needed to calm down, I don’t need you adding to that stress.” You say, pulling free from Theodore’s comfortable hold as you step towards your seething brother.

“We don’t have the time for this nonsense! Father has given us our respected duties.” He snaps, pointing a finger at you.

“Nonsense? Are you trying to twist the blame on me once more? We are in this mess because you’ve got no self-control! And father can take those duties and shove them up his ass!” You exclaim, the room buzzing with your magic.

Mattheo feels a shock in the air between the two of you, causing him to take several steps back. You were the only one to develop magic like this which happened to be otherworldly. It was known to be chaos magic, something that didn’t have much research behind it.

“You can’t say things like that! He’ll find out!” He snaps.

“Let him. I’m tired of us hiding behind him like cowards!” You snap.

Your eyes flickered to a glowing green, something they hadn’t ever done before as you began to levitate slightly—another thing you hadn’t ever done.

Your father loved and hated your magic. He loved that it was his child who possessed such rare and unique abilities. But, he hated it because it meant you were stronger than him. So, anytime your magic began to go haywire because of your emotions, he’d be quick to lock you away so you could reign it in. You’ve never gotten a chance to experiment with your powers to see what you were capable of.

“Y/n/n, you need to calm down.” Mattheo warns, putting his hands up in surrender.

Your heart aches seeing the fear in his eyes. You see his hand inching to his wand and your lip trembles, tilting your head slightly as your eyes well with tears. You glance around the room to see your friends inching behind your brothers, fear on their faces. Tom steps up next to Mattheo, nudging him behind him as he shakily points his wand at you.

“Expelliarmus!” Theodore shouts, standing in front of you.

He catches Tom’s wand, glaring at the group.

“She is your bloody sister! Our friends! She wouldn’t hurt you even if she wanted to! Can’t you see you both are hurting her! In fact, all of you are.” He snaps.

Your feet touch the ground as your eyes flicker back to normal. Theodore turns to you. He steps forward, but you step back as you slowly shake your head.

“P-Please don’t…I d-don’t want to hurt you.” You whisper.

“You won’t hurt me, love. Come here.” He murmurs.

You don’t move as he slowly steps towards you like you were a timid doe. His arms wrap around you, his hand cradling your head as he inhales deeply as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Your arms slowly wind around his waist, your hands shaking.

“I-I didn’t mean to.” You whisper.

“Darling, you didn’t do nothin’ wrong. You’ve never gotten the chance to know your magic and we know that. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.” He murmurs.

You were quiet, your shaky hands fisting the back of his shirt. He kisses your clothed shoulder, ignorant to your brothers’ anger towards him touching you. But, they knew that you were upset with them now. It was Theodore out of your friends and brothers who defended you.

You slowly pull away, stepping back.

“I wanna leave, Teddy.” You whisper.

“Come on, love.” He murmurs, gently grabbing your hand as he shields you from your brothers and friends as he guides you elsewhere.

“Where is she, Nott? She is our bloody sister.” Tom seethes.

“You guys really don’t see what you guys did to her, do you?” He asks, laughing sarcastically as your friend group quiets,

“What?” Mattheo asks, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, she is a Riddle. But, she is by far the most empathetic, caring, and loving one of you all. She hides it well, yes, and when you all acted as if she were some…monster, you hurt her. You broke one of the most compassionate, loving, and caring hearts you could break. She loves each and every one of you deeply. You all are her family, yet you all had to be fools. She doesn’t know what she is capable of. She feels as if it’s a curse. I think it makes her unique and that she could do some amazing things if she were allowed to test her powers out. You all owe her an apology. Even then, I don’t think it’ll be enough. She is so scared of hurting somebody. Dumbledore is now aware of her magic as she has locked herself away in her room and won’t come out. He’s been trying to help her understand it while getting her work for her classes.” Theodore explains, his cheeks flushed red with anger.

It was silent amongst the friends and her brothers. He stood there a moment before leaving to let them let that settle. Maybe they’ll feel guilty, or maybe they’ll feel nothing. But, it deserved to be said.

“Y/n/n?” Theodore asks, surprised.

“I decided hiding away wasn’t doing me any good. It just allowed me more time to overthink. I’m going to try going to all my classes today.” You say softly.

You were sitting on the windows ledge, kicking your feet back and forth. It did make Theodore’s heart rate pick up, because one wrong move, you’d be plummeting to the ground.

“I’ll be fine, Teddy.” You say softly.

“Huh?” He asks.

“I learned I can read minds and memories with my magic.” You say.

He smiles, happy to see you growing more comfortable with your abilities now that it’s no secret with the Headmaster who was more than happy to help you learn what abilities you possessed and what you could do.

You climb off the ledge, walking to Theodore before the two of you made it your guys’ first class. You take a seat, ignoring Umbridge’s prying eyes.

“Nice of you to join us, Ms. Riddle. I honestly hoped you had left Hogwarts.” She said.

You chose silence, focusing on the board. You had always lived in silence before, so why change that now? It wouldn’t get you anywhere. Simply glancing into her mind allowed you to see her next move and you were left unfazed as her hands slammed on your desk as she was in front of you.

“Answer me, Ms. Riddle. Haven’t you heard it’s impolite to ignore your professors?” She asks.

“Sorry, Professor Umbridge, I’m unsure of what I am answering.” You say.

“Where have you been?” She asks.

“Ill.” You reply shortly.

“You would’ve been fine within a few days. It’s been six weeks.” She snaps.

“If you’d like, you can owl Headmaster Dumbledore. He was a great help as he helped me recover.” You answer.

The doors open and in walk your brothers, but your gaze never leaves Umbridge’s. She scoffs, looking offended and you question what you had done.

“That’s it. Write lines. Write, “I will not give attitude.”” She snaps, throwing the quill a pad of paper on your desk.

You stare at it, not wanting to write lines. You don’t want the nasty scars it leaves behind. You faintly heard her scolding you and demanding you write lines.

“What exactly is she writing lines for, Professor, if you don’t mind me asking?” Mattheo asks, trying his hardest to sound polite.

“Literally nothing.” Theodore mutters from behind you.

“What was that, Mr. Nott?” Umbridge asks.

“Professor, may I go to the matron? I feel unwell.” You murmur.

“Write your lines first.” She snaps.

You reach a hand out for the quill, trying to suppress the shakiness as you grab it. You take a breath in before letting it out as you begin to write, allowing your magic to inflict it upon her instead of you.

She gasps, lifting her hand to see the words your writing appear on her hand. She storms over to you, snatching the quill. You roll your eyes up to hers, feigning confusion.

“What did you do? You insolent brat!” She shouts, shaking her hand to wave out the pain which did nothing.

“Nothing, ma’am. What happened?” You ask.

The class gets up, you not realizing how much time had passed as they left. Your friends and brothers stayed seated.

“Leave! Besides you Ms. Riddle.” She seethes.

“Nope.” Mattheo says, popping the p.

“Crucio!” She shouts.

You gasp as Tom pushes Mattheo out of the way, taking the hit. He falls to the ground, his jaw clenched. You fall to your knees beside him, your eyes watery.

“T-Tom? Hold on.” You whisper.

You cry out, fall to your side as her next spell hit you. Sectumsempra.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Draco shouts.

Your eyes turn green as a wave of green leaves you. You close your eyes, squeezing them shut as you fight for control.

“Guys! It’s going to be okay. Pansy and Enz ran to get Professor Snape. Blaise and Draco ran for Headmaster Dumbledore. Just…just hold on, please.” Mattheo pleads, take one of your hands, and one of Tom’s.

His eyes were watering, seeing his older brother by minutes and baby sister by minutes in so much pain.

“Tom, you idiot. Why’d you do that? And Y/n/n…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you. I never meant to do that. I love you so much and I couldn’t have asked for anyone else as a sister. I love you so much.” He says.

You feel a wave of tiredness wash over you as you continue to lose more blood. Your eyes flutter open, only to close again as you pass out. Tom was trying to sit up, only to be pushed down by Mattheo.

“Stay still.” He scolds.

“Y/n/n…check.” He grits out.

Mattheo turns to you, realizing your hand had gone limp in his. He shakes you urgently as fears of you dying filled his head. You let a little whimper of pain out which allowed him to feel calmer and to stop shaking you.

“Alright, move away so that we can help them.” Dumbledore says, hurrying in.

“I c-can’t leave them. They need me.” Mattheo says.

“We got him.” Theodore says quietly.

“Go.” Tom grits out.

“No! I’m not leaving you both!” He snaps.

Theodore, Blaise, and Enzo somehow managed to drag him out, Pansy and Draco following after in case they needed back-up in getting Mattheo back to the Common Room.

“You both are weak.” Voldemort says.

After your “mother”, Bellatrix, received a letter of what happened, a meeting was summoned. Your friends stared down at the table, along with their parents as they felt they were intruding. Tom and you were to stand, looking at him.

“Father, it was my fault.” You say, ignoring Tom’s sharp glare at you.

“Thomas!” Your father warns, in which Tom focuses his eyes back on his father with a clenched jaw.

“Father, please. It was me. She was angry with me and the boys simply stepped in to protect me. It was my fault. Please do not punish Tom or Mattheo. This is all my fault. I deserve to be punished.” You say.

“Mattheo is the only one whose name didn’t pop up in the letter. He is excused from this. But, Tom and you are not.” He says.

He points his wand, speaking, “Crucio!”. Your hands flew out, a green ward appearing around Tom as the spell bounced off of it. You used your other hand to hit the spell that now headed towards your father.

“You dare defy me?” He asks lowly, standing slowly as his eyes seem to turn redder.

“I said he had no part in this, but you choose to ignore what I had to say!” You snap, your own eyes turning green in anger.

He falters, his eyes changing to ones of surprise before he raises his wand.

“I would feel terrible about having to kill my own child, but it’s evident you’ve been experimenting with your powers. If you continue to stand up to me and be a threat to me, I’ll have no other option than to kill you.” He speaks.

“Don’t lie, father. You’d feel absolutely nothing. But, what if I did this? I reverse all your work?” You ask.

“Don’t you dare!” He shouts.

You clench your jaw as you flay your arms out as green lights up the room. You watch your father drop his wand as you levitate him. You continue to search his mind for all the objects that were horcruxes before your magic reached out to retrieve it and piece his soul back together. He yells and curses at you, but you aren’t affected.

The green light disperses as you lower your father who had a sharp jawline, blue eyes that matched Tom and yours. He was tall and lanky, but you could tell it only meant he was toned. His brown hair was carefully styled. He looks at his hands before turning to a mirror and staring at himself. He spins back towards you, storming towards you.

“What the hell did you do to me!” He shouts.

“You are no longer immortal. You are mortal. I could…however…make you immortal in a different way. But, I’m questioning if you even deserve that respect, father. You’ve treated your children like shit since they could walk. You’ve tortured us. You don’t care, nor love us. You are as much of a monster and a coward as some of the muggle’s I hear about with their children.” You seethe, walking towards him as he slowly backs up.

“I do love you three! And I care about you! You wouldn’t know a damn thing because you're so naive!” He shouts.

You decide to peek into his mind. You become humbled as some twisted part of him has loved and cared for you…but this new him allows him to express it normally and you can tell he is confused with the feelings. He’s scared.

“I’m not naive…you’ve done well hiding your true feelings towards us our entire life. Horcrux and disembodied you allowed you to experience love and care, yet those were warped. You had a very screwed up way of showing it. But, this way will allow us to see how you truly feel towards us.” You say, motioning to him.

“I want to be immortal, Y/n. I have plans I must go through with.” He says.

You turn, taking a seat and resting your chin on your hand as you look back at him.

“I’d be more than happy to make you immortal again. A spell I made and might I add that it works perfectly, no risks. But, I have one little thing I don’t want to happen. You’ve cowered behind your followers for far too long, father. A true leader leads the war. Not to mention, you have children involved. You’re willing to go to war with innocent children who may lose their lives. They’ve only ever heard what their parents said and they are far too young to even begin to think of what they truly believe. This against you adults. It doesn’t involve us. Nor, the children attending Hogwarts.” You say.

“You kids are far more talented and excelled.” He says.

“Father…I don’t see the point of this war. You’re a half-blood…which makes Tom, Mattheo and I half-bloods as well. You’re deeming it your right to lead a war for a pure-blood world, but what about us? How does it make it fair?” You ask.

“Because we aren’t like the other half-bloods and mud-bloods. We are far more powerful than them…smarter than them, stronger than them. Look at you for example. You possess abilities that no one else can. You possess magic that is otherworldly. Tom is much like me who can use wandless magic and see into the minds of even our most challenging opponents. Mattheo, he is much like your guy’s mother—the magical way—as she possessed ancient magic and as does Mattheo. Mattheo and Tom remind me of myself when I was younger just from the way they act. But, you…you remind me so much of your mother.” He says, managing a small smile at me.

You were unsure what to say, thrown off by what a mood change he just had. You also found yourself wanting to ask him questions of your mother whom you’ve never gotten the chance to meet as she died in childbirth.

“Meeting will be prolonged for now. You may go to the living room for now. I want a moment with my children.” Your father says.

People soon filed out of the room, Enzo being the one to close the doors with hesitancy. You shoot a smile his way and nod, seeing that he looked much more relieved to close the doors. Mattheo was still sitting where he had been, but Tom took a seat across from you.

“What was she like…our mom?” You ask.

“Your mother was…beautiful…you much look like her aside from the eyes. Mattheo got her eyes. Tom, you have her nose and lips. But, most importantly…you all share her big heart and her logical mind. She too didn’t see my views on why I wanted to go to war. She despised it unless I could truly find the reason behind it. There never was a reason besides I wanted a pureblood world. But, her and I…I never knew what love was until your mother. I believed I was incapable of loving or feeling in general until your mother walked up to me with one of her perfect, soft smiles. She was bold, fearless, and so smart. That was the side everyone got to see. But, as she and I grew closer…I got to see how big her heart was for her friends and family, just like yours Y/n/n…and to see how much she cared.” He says, his eyes faraway as he thought of your mother.

“How were you both after graduating?” You ask.

“We were perfect. We spent the next two or three decades madly in love when I had decided to move forth with my plans. By then, my old friend Abraxas had a little boy, Lucius. I watched my friends have children, but my friends died. It was their children I began to seek forth on the war. As they began to choose to have children, I realized how quiet your mother had gotten. She always watched. I asked about it one day naturally only to learn that she too wanted children. So, we began to try, which didn’t take long till she found out she was pregnant with you three. I would do anything to go back to the day to see that smile.” He says, smiling sadly.

“If you don’t mind…I could reflect on your memory so we could all see.” You say and he nods.

Naturally, he had been thinking about the day, so when you tapped his temple, it didn’t take long to find it. Soon, the four of you were quietly staring at your mother. It was a little snippet, her smile that was indeed much like yours, her brown eyes lighted with so much joy and love as she held a pregnancy stick up.

“I was unaware that your mother had a bleeding disorder. The pregnancy went well and when her water broke, we were ecstatic. I’ll admit I was rather nervous, but she couldn’t wait to get out the door and to the hospital to have you. She was so excited. They did the c-section, she got to hold the three of you. She cried as she said how beautiful you three were. She said you were going to be triple the trouble. She whispered how much she loved you and that one day she’d see you again. I was confused, but she managed to kiss each of your heads before the nurses were taking you away with solemn looks. She knew she was going to die. The entire pregnancy, she knew. She knew she’d die or live. She agreed to one horcrux—me, to live immortally. The other half of her joined me that night when she didn’t make it out of the room.” He says, swallowing hard.

“That’s who I felt when I pieced your soul back together.” You whisper.

“You felt her? I feel her sometimes…used to I could talk to her and she’d speak back. She’s grown silent though and I feared that she was gone.” He admits.

“She’s there, her soul is growing weaker though. She wasn’t meant to live through you, but her own vessel…I…” You say, trailing off.

“What?” He asks.

“She has a spell to resurrect the dead as well. She is the child who has dabbled in muggle magic that never went anywhere, but she takes it somewhere. She made the three of us immortal with her immortal spell, feelings intact. She did give us each a way to die if we ever got tired of being immortal. If we decided we wanted to move forth and meet in another life.” Tom explains.

“Your mother use to make spells too…she spent the years we were in Hogwarts and up until you three were born trying to create a spell on immortality. She hated that I had gone through with horcruxes and was sure she’d be able to reverse it and give us a safer option for immortality…yet here you are and you did it sooner than your mother had been able to. You remind me so much of your mother.” He says, looking at you.

It was silent as you all looked at the memory of your mother who was so joyous finding out she was pregnant. You find yourself thinking she is the most beautiful woman you have ever seen.

“I have a question.” Your father says.

“What's up?” Mattheo asks, trying to find a way to be less awkward around your guys’ father.

“Why does Theodore look at Y/n all the time?” He asks.

You look up confused, your brothers sharing an uncomfortable look as they looked almost defeated. Tom sighs and motions Mattheo on. Mattheo sighs.

“I didn’t tell you, Y/n/n, you just found out, okay? Theodore…he has had a crush or in your words, fancied Y/n/n since first year. He’s always been a bit scared to tell her as he would rather have her as a friend than not have her at all.” Mattheo explains.

You tilt your head in curiosity as you wonder why that never stood out to you. You had always fancied him, but you never assumed he’d feel anything back.

“I don’t quite know how to explain what it is I’m feeling…like…I love Y/n/n…I want to see her happy, but I don’t know how I feel about a boy fancying her.” Your father says.

“It's when you feel protective over someone. I’m sure you felt it often with mom.” Mattheo explains.

“I did…I was always embarrassed to ask her about the different feelings I would experience.” He admits.

“I’ll need her bones, some ingredients, but most importantly, I’ll be needing to carefully retract her soul from you dad…this part could hurt.” You say, turning to your father.

“That’s okay.” He admits.

“Is this it, my lord?” Lucius.

You, as much as you hated it, had a crowd who was rather intrigued by your magic and ability to create spells. You were slightly disturbed with your mothers remains being in the same room as you, but you knew it was necessary.

“Yes.” He murmurs, walking further into the room and sitting in the chair across from your mothers casket.

You place the metal bowl between the two as you start to add the ingredients in, you pause turning to your father as you strap him to the chair. He grimaces, realizing he may have misinterpreted how bad this would hurt, but he couldn’t complain. He wanted nothing more than the woman he loved back.

You raise your hands, having to clench your jaw of your fathers strangled groans and pained grunts as you pull your mothers soul free of him. You lowered it to the bowl, taking a match and lighting the bowl.

A wave of light fills the room, and you walk to the casket to see your mother there in the flesh and blood. You hear Tom helping your father free of restraints as you hold a hand out for your mother.

“Y/n/n?” She murmurs.

“Y-You recognize me?” You whisper as she fully stands.

“How could I not? You’ve turned out to be such a beautiful young woman…oh Mattheo…Tom, my boys. You three come here.” She whispers.

The embrace of your mother was something you realized you hadn’t needed so much. Her love, care, and warmth was what filled those missing parts in you—all, but one, but that was Theodore’s spot.

“You’re so pretty.” You murmur.

“Oh, love. Thank you, but it is you who is the prettiest girl to be seen.” She murmurs.

She holds you three tight for minutes, before leaving a long kiss on each of your heads before hesitantly letting you go. She looks at your guys’ father with watery eyes.

“I can’t say I haven’t missed you because I have. But, I still don’t agree with your views and how you’ve treated our children. But, when Y/n/n looked into your mind and pointed out that you had always loved and cared for them, it was just warped…I understood. But, I do believe the horcruxes played an effect. If the kids are okay with it, I’d love for all of us to start a clean slate.” She says.

Your father nods, his own eyes watery. You turn to look at your brothers to see them looking at you as your parents turn to you three. Mattheo does a little nod, and you turn to Tom. You could see his hesitance, but once he sees your encouraging smile, he does a little nod himself. You turn to your parents, nodding at them. They pull the three of you in a hug.

“What are you doing all alone out here, Teddy?” You ask, wearing a silvery dress that glitters.

Your makeup and jewelry was dark and green per-usual. He was in a tux, his tie terribly tied as he didn’t know how to. He had a cigarette in his mouth as he takes you in.

“Everyone is dancing and doing sappy stuff. Your brothers even had dates.” He says quietly.

You step forward, lifting your hands as you fix his tie. You look into his soft, yet intense eyes and smile.

“Teddy, would you like to dance with me?” You ask.

“R-Really?” He asks surprised.

“I only ask guys I like to dance, Teddy, so…would you?” You ask, holding your hand out to him.

“You like me?” He asks, taking your hand.

“More than you know, Teddy.” You say, smiling softly at him before you were gently dragging him to the dance floor.

A slow song comes on as you both start to sway. You requested this and then a waltz song next before letting the music officiant go back to their list. You saw your father and mother happily dancing as they whispered lovingly to each other. Mattheo was dancing with Astoria as Tom danced with a girl who was a year below you all. You periodically saw your friends amongst the dancing couples as they too danced.

“Love?” Theodore murmurs.

“Hm?” You hum, your eyes clashing with his.

“You like me in a more than friend way…right?” He asks, his eyes flickering over your shoulder out of nerves.

“That was what I meant, silly. Do you like me in a more than friend way?” You ask.

“Yes! I have for a long time…since first year, but I was just…I was so scared I’d lose you because you didn’t feel that way. I was everywhere…protecting you, and keeping guys away. You infiltrated my mind every waking moment of mine…you are my mania.” He says.

“Oh Teddy, I’ve liked you since first year too. I wish I would’ve said something sooner, but all is okay. We’ve told each other now.” You say, smiling softly.

“Since you were so bold earlier, let me return that…would you be my girlfriend?” He asks.

“Nothing would make me happier, Teddy.” You murmur, leaning up as he leans down to kiss you softly.

“Hey!” Tom, Mattheo and your father shout.

You both pull apart with soft laughter as you both look over to see them giving you both stern looks, your brothers’ dates trying to get them to leave you alone as your mother reigns your father in. You turn back to Theodore, a soft smile on your face.

“I love you, Teddy.” You murmur.

“I love you too, Y/n/n.” He whispers as the music shifts to waltz music and he groans as you grin mischievously.

It was then that he knew this was your doing, but he smiled goofily as he wouldn’t have this any other way.

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blindmagdalena · 7 months

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Ruiner

18+ 2.6k incubus!homelander x f!reader. extremely dubious consent, cunnilingus, comeplay/eating, vaginal dp, dirty talk, tail fucking, mild mindbreak, transformation, possessive behavior, breeding kink, marathon fucking, multiple orgasm, tail oral? mild breathplay.

After weeks of exhaustion, no matter how much sleep you get, you wake to a strange visitor in your bed. In a dark and honied voice, he promises you the pleasures found only in eternity.

written for monsterlander mania. check out this illustration by @luckytiggertalia!

For weeks, your nights have been plagued by a strange restlessness. No matter how early you retire to bed, you wake up heavy and groggy. It’s as if you close your eyes for a second, and then instantly wake twelve hours later, as unrested as ever. By the time you go to bed tonight, you’re nearly in a state of delirium, collapsing atop the covers without bothering to change your clothes.

The sun hasn’t set yet, but your eyes are too heavy to stay awake. Your whole body aches in misery.

“Please, just one… One good night,” you plead, bordering on tears as you curl up, nuzzling into your pillow. You fall asleep almost instantly–as you always do–and pray to anyone or anything willing to listen that this time, you actually rest.

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake. Strangely, it’s still dark out. You can’t remember the last time you woke before the sun rose, too exhausted to imagine it. Your head lolls from one side to the other, seeking out the LED glow of your clock, but you can’t make out the numbers. They’re bleary, and to your misery, you’re still heavy with fatigue.

The weight is more than that, though. You don’t just feel heavy, you feel something upon you. In the dark, you can make out a shadow above you, tracing the silhouette with your eyes, which widen as you see two glowing crimson spheres returning your stare.

“Hey you,” the figure above you purrs in a low voice so deliciously warm and sweet, you swear you feel it on your tongue. “Really did a number on you, didn’t I? You’re just so damn… tasty,” the figure coos, leaning down into the dim light of the moon spilling into your room, allowing you to properly see who is speaking to you.

You see strong features. Pronounced cheekbones, a broad, flat nose bridge, and the second the light hits them, those eerie red eyes shift into a handsome endless blue. His head is topped with a clean sweep of golden blonde hair, and when he tilts it, you see the distinct curve of long, twisting black horns jutting out on either side of it. You feel a scream build in your lungs, but it stays there, tight and unescaping in your chest. You realize you can’t move. You can’t speak.

“But I can admit when I’ve gone overboard, okay? And since you’ve been so good to me, I’m gonna be good to you,” he tells you, dragging a single finger down the line of your throat. It’s clawed, you realize belatedly, and you hear it cut through your clothing as easily as shears through paper.

You try desperately to choke out something, say anything, but it’s as if your throat is being held in an invisible vice lock. You’re shocked you can breathe.

“Relax. It’s me. And we’ve had so much fun together, you and I,” he says, leaning down to brush his lips over yours. The contact sparks like a shock of electricity, making you gasp. With that jolt comes a flash of images one after another, the blurry edges of them falling somewhere between memories and dreams only half remembered.

You’ve been here before, felt the lick of this heat against your skin. Your own moans echo in your ears like a cacophony of overlapping instances of self. Every inch of your skin feels hot, like you’ve just been submerged in a scorching bath. Flashes of nights spent in the throes of ecstasy assault your mind, and at the center of it all, a pair of lucent rubied eyes.

“That’s it, see now. See how you’ve been mine all along,” he murmurs, lips brushing the hollow of your throat. His tongue drags a hot trail down your chest, dipping to the side, where he sucks a mark into the swell of your right breast. He pulls away with a soft pop, and kisses his way to your nipple. This time, you can feel the inhuman length of his tongue coiling around the sensitive hard bud like a serpent before you feel the pull of his lips sucking at you.

He takes your opposite breast in his clawed hand and massages it with his palm, coaxing more noises from you, more exquisite pleasure. The miasma of his presence is so overwhelming, you can feel it in the weight of the air. Every breath you take feels heavy in your lungs.

Bit by bit every drop of panic drains from you, replaced by sweltering shameless enjoyment. The more you allow it, the better his hands feel. His mouth feels best of all, a wicked thing that makes your skin feel so good it burns.

He uses his knees to spread your legs, and that’s when you feel the press of something thick between your thighs, dragging up the slick mess he’s made of you, pressing against your lightly throbbing clit. It moves strangely, with articulate deftness that defies all expectation. You jolt, a moan escaping you. “What is that?” You rasp, unsure of when you became able to speak again.

“Me,” he tells you, and the feeling disappears. A second later, you see an appendage rise up behind him. A tail, you realize. It’s as black as his horns, long and ridged on the top. The bottom reminds you of the belly of a snake, with smooth scales that layer seamlessly down. You watch, transfixed, as he brings it to his lips and opens wide, taking it into his mouth. You see just a flash of gleaming, sharp fangs. When the tail pulls away, it’s coated in a shiny, thick layer of saliva.

It disappears, and you feel the pressure of it at your pussy once more, slowly and painlessly easing you open.You feel each and every bump as it slips into you, firm but malleable. You writhe, letting out a jagged moan. You realize you can move when you reflexively grab onto his hair, though the knuckles of your right hand bump his horn. Instinctively, you take hold of his horn, giving it a sharp pull that makes him moan.

He pulls off of your breast with a wet pop, both of which have grown tender under his attention. “More,” he encourages you, tilting his head to tug against your grasp. You comply, taking both of his horns into your hands and pushing his head down, down, down.

“Good, that’s good,” he growls, claws dragging tantalizing lines down your body, the sharpness of them drawing faint welts on your skin. He grabs your thighs and leans in to tongue your aching clit, pulling another moan from you. “Take, sweetheart. Take as much as you want. Take like I take from you,” he says, words like an inferno breathed on the most sensitive part of you.

You swear you can feel strength returning to your body. Your eyes no longer burn with desire for sleep. For the first time in weeks, you truly feel awake again.

His tail pushes deeper inside you while his impossibly long tongue draws figure-eights over your clit. You throw your head back and yank on his horns, back arching. You bounce your hips, fucking yourself on his tail while grinding against his tongue. He laughs against you, humming in pure delight at the way you hold him in place, shamelessly using him for your mounting pleasure. The vibrations drive you steadily to the brink.

You feel feverish with need, sweat prickling your skin. His mouth feels silky and hot against you while the ridges of his tail make you writhe with every push and pull. You come hard, clenching down on his tail, legs tightening on either side of his head, yanking his horns hard enough that he makes a shuddering noise of pleasure against you.

The euphoria is so intense that your vision turns white, but it doesn’t last. The waves fade out, and you’re left breathing heavily, wanting more.

“More,” you voice immediately, even as your legs shake. He messily licks his lips, swiping your shiny slick and his spit from his chin with his thumb before sucking it into his mouth. “I need more,” you say fervently.

He crawls up the length of your body like a stalking tiger, settling his weight overtop of you. He kisses you, licks the taste of sex and cinnamon into your mouth. His tongue curls around yours, pushing almost to the back of your throat. He breaks from you with a ragged breath. “You’ve kept me so well fed. Now it’s my turn to give you everything,” he vows, reaching down between your bodies.

Your brows furrow, lips parting on a silent cry as you feel the blunt, wet head of his cock pressing into you just above his tail. He moans, holding you still while he slowly sinks into you.

“Been so fucking perfect for me. Sweet little cunt, always dripping for me before I even touch you. You want to feel like this forever, don’t you? But why be my pet when you could be my equal, hmm? I can make you like me,” he whispers, punctuating every word with a thrust of his hips that brings him a little deeper each time. “And we’ll eat, fuck and live how we want for all eternity. Tell me that’s what you want.”

You keen, spreading your legs wider in an attempt to adjust to the added girth. You nod eagerly. The last thing you want to do is leave this exquisite agony behind, return to the mundane monotony of your life beyond this burning inferno.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he coos, cupping the side of your face. The sharp claw of his thumb drags across your cheek, barely light enough not to break the skin. He rocks his hips gently, alternating those thrusts with the slide of his tail. “Before I have to break you… Tell me that you want me to keep you.”

You grip his shoulders, struggling for breath. You feel so unbelievably full as he fucks you, floating on the overwhelm of sensation, but you’re present enough that his words send a shiver down your spine. “Yes. Yes, I want you to keep me. I want you to be mine forever,” you say, not wanting to lose this again. You don’t want to forget. You don’t want him to stop. You’re addicted to this. To him.

He moans loudly, dipping back down to kiss you. He hikes your legs up around his waist and thrusts in deep, swallowing your answering noises while he picks up a punishing pace, pounding you into the mattress hard enough that the whole bed shakes, headboard slamming against the wall.

“Fucking… tight,” he moans as you get closer to another climax, his voice frayed and eager. “I won’t insult you by stopping when you come. I’m going to fuck you so full of my come, you’re going to taste it,” he growls, hips snapping harder with each word, his tail and his cock fucking you until the tether in you snap, and you’re coming again, dragging your nails up his back while he mercilessly pounds you into the bed.

He’s just as unrelenting as he promised to be, growling into the crook of your neck. You gasp when he sinks his teeth into your skin, holding you in place and fucking you like an animal until he, too, succumbs to his pleasure, his groan muffled into your flesh while a rush of heat fills your stuffed cunt even fuller.

You’re sure that’s the end of it.

You’re wrong.

He doesn’t stop thrusting. His cock is still hard inside you, heavy balls slapping against your ass with every thrust.

“No breaks for you,” he rasps, lapping at the bite he left at your neck. “This is your only purpose now.” He hauls you hips up, lifts himself up on his knees so that only your upper back and head are left on the bed.

You hear a noise behind him that sounds like tree branches snapping, and two enormous, leathery black wings unfurl from his back. His eyes glow like burning coals in the darkness. You give a shuddering moan as his tail slides out of you, reappearing over his shoulder.

He brings it right to your lips.

“Open,” he murmurs. You do, parting your lips and welcoming the silky slide of his tail on your tongue. He tastes like salt, sex and warm spices. Your eyelids flutter as you suck every drop, moving your tongue greedily over the tip of it. He bows his head back down against your shoulder, moaning in your ear so hungrily that you realize it must feel good for him. You suck harder, and sure enough, he shudders, holding your hips while he fucks you faster.

“Ffffuck, you’re so fucking good for me. Take me so good. Perfect pussy for breeding. Won’t spill a fucking drop, will you?” His rhythm never falters despite how ruined his own voice sounds. He pushes his tail deeper into your mouth, fucks your throat the same way he fucks your cunt, making it hard to breathe.

He comes again, dragging you over the threshold with that same intense rush of liquid heat. Your whole body trembles, and you’re lightheaded from lack of oxygen. His tail slips from your lips only to be replaced by his thumb hooking the corner of your mouth. He peers inside, and his lips split into a wicked grin. “Good girl,” he rumbles, prying your mouth open wider, inspecting your teeth. Confused, you roll your tongue along your top teeth, and only then do you understand.

You have fangs.

Before you can express your disbelief, he kisses you again, rocking against you in comparatively leisurely thrusts, luxuriating in the soaking wet mess he’s made of your cunt. “Just a little more, sweetheart, and you’ll be just like me. You and me? We’re gonna eat this whole fucking world alive.”

You lose track of how much time goes by. You lose track of how many times you come. How many times he comes. He fucks you until your pussy is raw and your voice hoarse. He kisses, licks and bites his way over every inch of you. It’s as if he desperately wants to devour you, and the only thing holding him back is his promise to keep you.

You don’t have a single thought left in your head other than taking his cock deeper, feeling more of him, tasting more of him. You’re so cum-drunk it’s made you stupid, focused only on the pleasure he has to offer you. It should hurt, you think, and yet all you feel is resplendent euphoria.

He changes you. You grow more than fangs; your nails turn to claws, and you can feel the weight of horns on your skull. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he moans, coming inside you again with a shuddering moan. You feel his tail twist around yours.

“So fucking perfect. I love you, I love you, I love you,” he chants deliriously, adjusting your body against his own as he starts to thrust again.

The sun never does rise. You’re not sure that it ever will.

You don’t care, though. Not so long as you’re his, and he’s yours.

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #terato #monster x human #monster romance #monsterlander mania #my writing #i wrote this in a frenzy today and refuse to proofread please enjoy!!! lmao

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a-libra-writes · 1 year

Note

If you don’t mind, may I request headcanons for the lackadaisy characters reacting to the reader(GN) saving them by taking a bullet that was going to hit them and almost dies from it?

GN reader, most of these imply the reader and character are in a romantic relationship or at least close. obvs mentions of injury, blood, morphine, hospitals etc and the angst that follows! Our kitties arent doing well :(

♣️Rocky - The fact you took a bullet for him is ... a lot. That takes processing, something Rocky isn't good at. It ends up manifesting as a long, drawn-out anxiety attack that gives him jitters, a little dissociation and mild mania. Eventually the Arbogasts asks Freckle to just get him out of the house and do something with him; they'd call when you woke up. When you're awake, the tabby is making his usual quips and chatter, but his off-kilter mood is obvious to even your morphine-addled mind. Rocky's more disheveled than usual and clearly hasn't slept. His shirt still has blood on it - your blood.

He's is ready to go absolutely feral on the person who did this, channeling all his fear and guilt into a single plan of revenge. He's so full of this manic energy that it's hard for him to keep still, let alone eat or sleep. But first! You're awake! Even if it's clear he's unwell, he's trying to smile and assure you that you'll be back on your feet in no time! So don't you worry, he and Freckle will take care of it. No amount of exhausted arguing will divert him from this.

You're stuck in bed for days, so you don't know exactly what happens. It's up to Freckle to tell you, as he went along with his cousin - but he's tight lipped about it, and fidgety, like always. Once that's dealt with, Rocky's fixating switches to fussing over you. And his heart is in the right place, but ... he's exhausted, all that lack of sleep and emotional turmoil catching up. Eventually he just passes out on the bed and you let him curl up at your side for a while. Rocky's excellent company (and a questionable nurse) in the following weeks. He has plenty of stories, music and chatter to keep you occupied.

♣️Freckle - He is, uh, not coping with this well. At all. He jumps to action to shoot whoever did this... Several times, and keeps shooting long after they're dead. He doesn't stop until his cousin calls out to him. Freckle is in something of a daze on the way to the back-alley doctor - wow, people have a lot of blood in their body, but now it's all over you - and doesn't start throwing up until the bullet gets pulled out of you.

He's sent out of the makeshift operating room because even Rocky can tell he won't cope with it. How could he? Isn't this his fault? Maybe if he reacted sooner, it wouldn't have happened. The poor guy is sleepless for days and consumed with too much guilt to visit until he's all but dragged in your sickroom by Ivy. Freckle fidgets often and struggles to look into your eyes - it goes a long way to just reassure him and promise you aren't angry. He shot the bastard who did it, after all.

He visits most days, bringing soup (his mother seems to think you have a terrible flu?) and slowly, slowly talking more and relaxing. He has a better bedside manner than he thinks; Freckle's a fairly quiet companion and has a good idea of what you need. Changing your bandages makes him feel pretty awful, but he's a good help. If you decide to continue bootlegging after your recovery, he's extra jumpy and protective of you.

♣️Ivy - Ohhh nonononono no, this is not happening. She's grabbing your shoulders and yanking you toward her, ignoring the blood getting all over her. She's a mess and doesn't even think of the danger you're both in; the bullets and gunfire keeps on all around while she holds onto you and tries to pull you to safety. Small as she is, with pure determination and adrenaline, she makes it.

You don't remember much after that, but the girl's right in your face as you slowly come to. Ivy looks a complete mess; having been crying for the the last hour, and before that watching intently while a bullet was yanked out of you. At least she washed the blood off her arms, but the clothes she was wearing are utterly ruined. Ivy alternates between chattering apologies and quiet fidgeting, even if you're too loopy to respond properly.

Eventually she has some strings pulled to get you to a nice hospital, with no one asking questions. This whole situation alters her for the worse; she gets more frequent nightmares and struggles to focus in school. Nearly every day she comes by you bring you snacks and magazines and nice flowers for your room; sometimes seeming a little frantic, like she was trying to make up for something.

♣️Mitzi - She is furious. Someone told her when you woke up, and you hear her swishing dress and clacking heels rushing down the hall. Her eyes are red, her make up is ruined and she practically shakes you. Even though you're still full of morphine, she demands you promise to never, EVER do that again. Zib has to remind her that a) you're still drugged out of your mind and b) the bandages are getting bloody.

While she'd want you in a proper hospital, they'd ask too many questions. You stay in the apartment above the cafe. She's too squeamish (and guilty) to help change your bandages, but she does bring you food, some records to listen to, an extra pillow, and so on. It's obvious Mitzi struggles to talk casually, as if nothing happened. When you're sleeping, she'll sit at your bedside. If it seems like the wound - or maybe a dream? - is bothering you, she gently pets your hair until you settle.

♣️Viktor - He's only in shock for a few seconds before instinct and absolute fury takes over. The perpetrator is not alive for long, but their last moments are painful. Not that you're around to see it - you've longed passed out from bloodloss. The only thing keeping Viktor from totally rampaging is the awareness that you're in a critical condition.

His old soldier training takes over; he's able to push emotions aside and get you to Elsa, the only one he trusts with this situation. While you're being operated on, he's still stewing. If whoever is responsible still has friends or a leader around, well, that won't be the case for long. Mordecai considers stopping the big Slovak to make him see reason ... but just ends up helping him instead. 'Keeping him out of trouble', the shadowy man claims, but really he's just as angry.

Once you're awake and coherent, it takes Viktor a while to sit in with you. He's disheveled and tired, and has trouble meeting your eyes. His bedside manner is ... basically nonexistent, but earlier Elsa walked him through the basics of what foods are best and how the bandages need to be fixed. After this, he's adamant about not wanting you on jobs any more, even if you're recovering well. The fact you took the bullet for him is even worse, in his mind. He could've taken it; you should have let him take it.

♣️Zib - Nope, he's not okay. Definitely not coping well with this situation. It's bad enough he got involved in one gunfight, now a second and this happens? He wants to get the hell out of this speakeasy. Anyone can see how jittery he is. Zib alternates between smoking too much and avoiding your sickbed, or drinking too much and sleeping by your side. When it's two am and he's resting beside you and listening to your labored breathing, he really wishes he was shot instead.

He thinks he's pretty shit at caring for anyone, but he's actually not bad, especially when he's half-sober. Helping with the bandages gets him feeling queasy and guilty, but getting food and keeping you company isn't so bad. Now and then, he asks if you still want to hang around this place - what do you think about leaving, with him and the band? If you're a triggerman for Lackadaisy, why don't you reconsider? Is it really worth it? And so on.

Expect a lot of late-night discussions when he's restless and can't keep his mind wandering. What if you had died, what if you get sick like this, what if you just left with him? Where would you all go? More than once you've fallen asleep in the middle of his talking, but he doesn't mind.

♣️Atlas - Everything is spinning, but you can feel his arms around you. You don't realize how much blood has soaked through his suit. And for the first time, you hear him shout - his voice resonates through his chest as you rest against it.

Eventually you wake up in a hospital bed, though the blanket is something from home and there's flowers all over the windowsill - wait, is that a radio? The nurses don't say much, but you're also not in a state to talk. You aren't sure if it's been one day or many, but finally he visits. He looks more tired than you've seen him, and far more solemn. He puts his hand on your's and explains you'll be leaving the hospital soon and recovering in his manor, along with a live-in nurse. This is quite a shock if you two aren't married, but if you are, it's nice to go home again. The guest room is already set up with what you need.

You don't hear whatever came of that triggerman, though the Lackadaisy staff whisper about Viktor and Mordecai being away for some time. Atlas doesn't want you about the cafe or speakeasy anymore, or out on your own in general. It'll take time for you to recover, but even longer for his paranoia and agitation to lessen. He seems the same to his business associates and employees, but those who know him better ...

🏵Serafine - She only pauses for a moment, then jumps to action. Serafine doesn't have to say anything to Nico, he's already picking you up while she mows down whoever shot you. Outwardly she's calm, inwardly she's furious. At the gunman, at herself, at you. Well, they keep a doctor on call for this reason. Serafine holds you very carefully in the car ride to the hotel, alternating between talking about revenge and reassuring you that you'll be just fine. No need to fret.

Everything's fuzzy after that. Serafine isn't there when you awaken, but you're in her bed. If you're a girl, you're probably in her nightie, too (when did your clothes get changed?). There's warm food on the nightstand, enough morphine to take out an elephant and a little vase of flowers. It's like any other morning when you wake up in her bed, well. Except the drugs and the hole in your chest.

Eventually she comes back, with more food and a disturbingly calm demeanor. Whoever that gunner was, well, they're dealt with, and so is their boss. Isn't that good news, cher(ie)? You just rest up and you'll be back on your feet. The stitches are neat and the bandages aren't too tight - understandable, considering how much she was threatening the doctor. Nico tells you all about it later.

🏵Nico - He uh, probably manhandles you more than he should as he gets you into the car. He wants to retaliate - to bash in the gunman's head rather than put a bullet in it - but Nico knows a bad shot when he sees it. He grits his teeth and keeps you in his arms while Serafine floors it, not caring how much blood gets on his clothes or white coat.

As much as he wants to sit in on the operation, it makes him restless. So he settles for pacing in and out of the room, often reminding the doctor how unfortunate it'll be for him if something goes wrong. He's quietly boiling in the perpatrator, too; by the time you're bandaged and tucked in bed, he and his sister already have a plan of retaliation. While you're still doped up and asleep, he gives you a kiss on the brow and disappears to get the job done.

Once you come to, there's flowers on the nightstand and a maid coming in with room service. You stay in the Savoy's suite during your recovery; Nico only sleeps on the couch because he moves a lot in his sleep and doesn't want to disturb you (he still naps right by your side). He's not careful enough to help with changing bandages, but he's excellent company when you're bored. Nico only laughs when you bring up the gunman. Old news, he's taken care of it. He'll even share the grisly details.

🏵Mordecai - He doesn't react to the blood immediately. His mind tells him to clear the area first - but. That's a lot of blood. He's acutely aware the bullet was meant for him. The logical side starts to short-circuit once you're in the backseat of the car, bleeding all over the coat he wrapped around you. He knows how to put pressure on a wound, and he thinks he's staying calm, but he snaps viciously at Niko to stop screwing around and drive faster.

He bothers the doctor so much while they work - hovering, observing, commenting - he gets pulled out of the room. Whoever shot you is going to be dealt with, and whoever ordered the hit. Mordecai just wants to make sure you'll survive the next few hours, as that'll determine how he deals with them.

The first few days he's agitated and not sleeping well. Mordecai alternates between fussing and fixating on your wound, and bothering the hell out of whoever's looking after you. He really doesn't settle until the gunman is well and dead, and you're more coherent and talking. Expect lots of lecturing about how stupid it was for you to get in the way, how you need to fix the bandage this way or that, and have you been eating? When Mordecai's away, the Savoys like to come in and cackle about what he did to the gunman. They were also apparently given instructions by him not to bother you, which they gleefully ignore.

🏔Wick - He's completely frozen in place, stuck by distress and panic. It occurs to him to shout for help not when more bullets fly by, but when you start coughing up blood. He has enough wherewithal to get you to the hospital - somehow driving without crashing into anything - but once you're taken away, he just crumples. He's utterly distraught.

Once his mental faculties have recovered just enough to let him stand, he paces. And paces. The receptionist in the waiting room manages to get him to make a phone call; he tries to inform Lacy to just take the day off tomorrow, but the events of the evening all come spilling out. If you both were innocent bystanders in the incident, that's one thing, but if you were involved in some criminal business and that's what put Wick in the line of fire ... well, Lacy has some choice words for her hopelessly infatuated boss.

Once you're stable and resting, he finally allows himself to breathe. The receptionist all but shoves him home because he looks like a mess and he's frightening other patients. By the time you can accept visitors he's (somewhat) rested and bringing you flowers. There's still an awkwardness, so ... at some point, talking about everything is gonna have to happen. But Wick wants you to rest first, and he needs to figure out his own thoughts, without the whiskey.

#ive rewritten this many times im tired of looking at it LMAO pls enjoy #lackadaisy x reader #rocky rickaby x reader #freckle mcmurray x reader #ivy pepper x reader #viktor vasko x reader #mitzi may x reader #zib zibowski x reader #atlas may x reader #serafine savoy x reader #nico savoy x reader #mordecai heller x reader #wick sable x reader #sedgewick sable x reader #calvin mcmurray x reader #dorian zibowski x reader #nicodeme savoy x reader

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blindmagbrolena · 7 months

Text

Ruiner ( m!reader )

18+ 2.8k incubus!homelander x m!reader. bottom homelander, extremely dubious consent, oral, comeplay/eating, riding, dirty talk, tail fucking, mild mindbreak, transformation, possessive behavior, marathon fucking, multiple orgasm, tail oral? mild breathplay, no refractory period.

After weeks of exhaustion, no matter how much sleep you get, you wake to a strange visitor in your bed. In a dark and honied voice, he promises you the pleasures found only in eternity.

m!reader version of this fic. written for monsterlander mania just wanted to ride incubus!HL riding cock and getting cum-drunk. 🖤 thank you so much @homeb0ys for this SICK edit of our incubus boy!

The sun hasn’t set yet, but your eyes are too heavy to stay awake. Your whole body aches in misery.

The weight is more than that, though. You don’t just feel heavy, you feel something upon you. In the dark, you can make out a shadow above you. You trace the silhouette with your eyes, which widen as you see two glowing crimson spheres returning your stare.

“Hey you,” the figure above you purrs in a low voice so deliciously warm and sweet, you swear you taste it on your tongue. “Really did a number on you, didn’t I? You’re just so damn… tasty,” the figure coos, leaning down into the dim light of the moon spilling into your room, allowing you to properly see who is speaking to you.

You try desperately to choke out something, say anything, but it’s as if your throat is being held in an invisible vice lock. You’re shocked you can breathe.

“Shshshhhh,” he hushes, warm hands pulling the shreds of clothing from your body. You know your room is cold, but all you can feel is the heat rolling from the body atop yours like a burning hearth given flesh. “Relax. It’s me. And we’ve had so much fun together, you and I,” he says, leaning down to brush his lips over yours. The contact sparks like a shock of electricity, making you gasp. With that jolt comes a flash of images one after another, the blurry edges of them falling somewhere between memories and dreams only half remembered.

“That’s it, see now. See how you’ve been mine all along,” he murmurs, lips brushing the hollow of your throat. His tongue drags a hot trail down your chest, dipping to the side, where he sucks a mark into the swell of your right pec. He pulls away with a soft pop, and kisses his way to your nipple. This time, you can feel the inhuman length of his tongue coiling around the sensitive hard bud like a serpent before you feel the pull of his lips sucking at you.

He takes your opposite pec in his clawed hand and massages it with his palm, coaxing more noises from you, more exquisite pleasure. The miasma of his presence is so overwhelming, you can feel it in the weight of the air. Every breath you take feels heavy in your lungs. Bit by bit every drop of panic drains from you, replaced by sweltering shameless enjoyment. The more you allow it, the better his hands feel. His mouth feels best of all, a wicked thing that makes your skin feel so good it burns.

He uses his knees to spread your legs, and that’s when you feel the touch of something thick between your thighs, dragging up the curve of your ass, curling around your rapidly hardening cock. It moves strangely, with articulate deftness that defies all expectation. You jolt, a moan escaping you as it strokes you.. “What is that?” You rasp, unsure of when you became able to speak again.

It disappears, and you feel the pressure of it at your hole now, slowly and somehow painlessly easing you open, his saliva making it unnaturally slick. You feel each and every bump as it slips into you, firm but malleable. You writhe, letting out a jagged moan. You realize you can move when you reflexively grab onto his hair, though the knuckles of your right hand bump his horn. Instinctively, you take hold of his horn, giving it a sharp pull that makes him moan.

He pulls off of your nipple with a wet pop, both of which have grown tender under his attention. “More,” he encourages you, tilting his head to tug against your grasp. You comply, taking both of his horns into your hands and pushing his head down, down, down.

“Good, that’s good,” he growls, claws dragging tantalizing lines down your body, the sharpness of them drawing faint welts on your skin. He grabs your thighs and leans in to tongue the head of your aching cock, pulling another moan from you. “Take, sweetheart. Take as much as you want. Take like I take from you,” he says, words like an inferno breathed on the most sensitive part of you.

You swear you can feel strength returning to your body. Your eyes no longer burn with desire for sleep. For the first time in weeks, you truly feel awake again.

His tail pushes deeper inside you while his impossibly long tongue wraps around the length of your cock. You throw your head back and yank on his horns, back arching. You bounce your hips, fucking yourself down on his tail and up into his mouth. He laughs against you, humming in pure delight at the way you hold him in place, shamelessly using him for your mounting pleasure. The vibrations drive you steadily to the brink.

You feel feverish with need, sweat prickling your skin. His mouth feels silky and hot around you while the ridges of his tail make you writhe with every push and pull. You come hard, clenching down on his tail, legs tightening on either side of his head, yanking his horns hard enough that he makes a shuddering noise of pleasure against you, your cock buried all the way down his throat.

The euphoria is so intense that your vision turns white, but it doesn’t last. The waves fade out, and you’re left breathing heavily, wanting more. Your cock is still almost painfully hard in his mouth.

“More,” you voice immediately, even as your legs shake. He pulls off of you with a slurp and messily licks his lips, swiping his spit from his chin with his thumb before sucking it into his mouth. “I need more,” you say fervently.

Your brows furrow, lips parting on a silent cry as you feel him take hold of your cock in a firm grip, and in one slow, continuous slide, welcome you into the tight, wet inferno of his body. He moans, holding you still while he takes every inch of you.

“Been so fucking perfect for me. Beautiful cock always dripping for me before I even touch you. You want to feel like this forever, don’t you? But why be my pet when you could be my equal, hmm? I can make you like me,” he whispers, punctuating every word with a roll of his hips that brings you a little deeper each time. All the while, he’s still slamming his tail in and out of you. “And we’ll eat, fuck and live how we want for all eternity. Tell me that’s what you want.”

You keen, spreading your legs wider in an attempt to adjust to the girth of his tail. You nod eagerly. The last thing you want to do is leave this exquisite agony behind, return to the mundane monotony of your life beyond this burning perfection.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he coos, cupping the side of your face. The sharp claw of his thumb drags across your cheek, barely light enough not to break the skin. He rocks his hips greedily, alternating his pace with the slide of his tail, which only gets thicker the deeper he fucks you. “Before I have to break you… Tell me that you want me to keep you.”

You grip his shoulders, struggling for breath. You feel so unbelievably full as he fucks you, both taking him and taken by him, floating on the overwhelm of sensation, but you’re present enough that his words send a shiver down your spine. “Yes. Yes, I want you to keep me. I want you to be mine forever,” you say, not wanting to lose this again. You don’t want to forget. You don’t want him to stop. You’re addicted to this. To him.

He moans loudly, dipping back down to kiss you. He takes hold of your throat and pulls his tail almost all the way out before driving it hard back in at the same time he bounces on your cock, swallowing up your answering noises while he picks up a punishing pace, pounding you into the mattress hard enough that the whole bed shakes, headboard slamming against the wall.

“Fucking… tight,” he moans as you get closer to another climax, his voice frayed and eager as his tail twists inside you. “I won’t insult you by stopping when you come. I’m going to fuck you until I can taste your come inside me,” he growls, hips snapping harder with each word. The combination of his tight, wet hole and thick tail slamming into you causes the last tether in you to snap, and you’re coming again, dragging your nails up his back while he mercilessly pounds you into the bed.

He’s just as unrelenting as he promised to be, growling into the crook of your neck. You gasp when he sinks his teeth into your skin, holding you in place and riding you like an animal until he, too, succumbs to his pleasure, his groan muffled into your flesh while a rush of heat splatters over your stomach, ribbons of it reaching all the way up to your chest.

You’re sure that’s the end of it.

You’re wrong.

He doesn’t stop thrusting. His cock is still hard where it bounces against your stomach, his lust insatiable as he grinds down against you. “No breaks for you,” he rasps, lapping at the bite he left at your neck. He dips further down to lick his own come from your chest. “This is your only purpose now.”

He straightens up, arching his back to take you deeper, sinking his full weight down on you. You hear a noise behind him that sounds like tree branches snapping, and two enormous, leathery black wings unfurl from his back. His eyes glow like burning coals in the darkness. You give a shuddering moan as his tail slides out of you, reappearing over his shoulder.

He brings it right to your lips.

“Open,” he murmurs. You do, parting your lips and welcoming the silky slide of his tail on your tongue. He tastes like salt, sex and warm spices. Your eyelids flutter as you suck, moving your tongue greedily over the tip of it. He bows his forehead back down against your shoulder, moaning in your ear so hungrily that you realize it must feel good to him. You suck harder, and sure enough, he shudders, pinning you down by your shoulders while he fucks himself harder.

“Ffffuck, you’re so fucking good for me. Take me so good, feel so good inside me. Perfect cock for breeding every fucking hole. You’ll give me every drop, won’t you?” His rhythm never falters despite how ruined his own voice sounds. He pushes his tail deeper into your mouth, fucks your throat the same way he fucks himself on your cock, making it hard to breathe.

He comes again, dragging you over the threshold with that same intense clench of his body. You tremble all over, lightheaded from lack of oxygen. His tail slips from your lips only to be replaced by his thumb hooking the corner of your mouth. He peers inside, and his lips split into a wicked grin. “Good boy,” he rumbles, prying your mouth open wider, inspecting your teeth. Confused, you roll your tongue along your top teeth, and only then do you understand.

You have fangs.

Before you can express your disbelief, he kisses you again, rocking against you in comparatively leisurely thrusts, luxuriating in the soaking wet mess you’ve made of his hole, your own come spilling and wetting your lap and balls. “Just a little more, sweetheart, and you’ll be just like me. You and me? We’re gonna eat this whole fucking world alive.”

You lose track of how much time goes by. You lose track of how many times you come. How many times he comes. He fucks you until your hole and cock are both raw, and your voice hoarse. He kisses, licks and bites his way over every inch of you. It’s as if he desperately wants to devour you, and the only thing holding him back is his promise to keep you.

You don’t have a single thought left in your head other than fucking him deeper, feeling more of him, tasting more of him. You’re so intoxicated by his perpetually tight, velvety hole that it’s made you stupid, focused only on the pleasure he has to offer you. It should hurt, you think, and yet all you feel is resplendent euphoria.

He changes you. You grow more than fangs; your nails turn to claws, and you can feel the weight of horns on your skull. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he moans, coming on you again, adding to the slick mess he’s left between your bodies. You feel his tail twist around yours. You scoop your fingers through the layer of come on your stomach, and he hungrily sucks them clean.

“So fucking perfect. I love you, I love you, I love you,” he chants deliriously, adjusting your body against his own as he starts to ride again. When his eyes aren’t red, they’re pitch black, pupils blown and cum-drunk.

The sun never does rise. You’re not sure that it ever will.

You don’t care, though. Not so long as you’re his, and he’s yours.

#homelander x male reader #homelander x reader #terato #monster romance #monster x human

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prone-to-fleeting-obsessions · 3 months

Text

Alastor hc's with female reader

Things to note: Can be read at platonic or romantic, reader is implied female, possessive behavior and such, probably ooc, lmk how I did

• Alastor who's just ever so slightly softer with his female acquaintances

• Sure, he's a power hungry megalomaniac who thrives on being off-putting and unbelievably prideful

• Of course he hums with that smug little smile as he watches people struggle with things far above someone of his status

• But isn't it amusing, how after his subtle gloating and moment to relish in just how pitiful you look, he steps in without so much as a plee from you, finishing what you struggled to do with ease

• "Oh my dear, don't tell me you can't even manage this?" He says with that smug little look, static crackling around him as he seems to feed off his own amusement

• He doesn't give you so much as another glance as he walks away, head tilted up, as if he alone is the reason the entire hotel hasn't gone up in flames

• It doesn't take a subtle eye to notice how his mannerism differ, how Charlie gets a head pat and a smile, how his old friend Mimzy gets an enthusiastic hug, how close his fellow overlord Rosie gets to being a full genuine respected friend...

• Ever the gentleman it seems, old habits and all that

• Still, it's hard not to bristle slightly as you watch him with others, Husk and Vox and even Lucifer himself... How his grin seems so much more condescending, so irritated by the smallest things...

• How that spark of sadistic glee floods into his eyes and his smile widens to one of subtle mania when he watches them fall flat

• A far cry from the tame little head pat you get when he once again proves just how much his strength and stamina far surpass your own

• And oh, to just stare at his subtle mannerisms, how one of his ears twitch in anticipation, how his eyes widened ever so slightly, shining at an opportunity to feed his ego, how he holds himself that much taller when he's needed by you

• And you do need him, that much is so painfully obvious

• "Honestly dear, how have you survived this long?" He shakes his head in mock confusion, taunting you

• Your status doesn't matter, you could be an overlord, a fallen angel, a common sinner, or even a hell born and he'd still look at you with that same smile of mild amusement and condescending pity

• He still has a tendency to lose his temper, no one is safe from that

• But oh, that look of fondness when he surrounds himself in your fear was impossible to miss

• It was also rather difficult to miss the shadows that tailed you whenever you left the hotel

• "A cautionary measure, nothing more." He'd call it, waving you off with an small flourish, not keen on being questioned about such favouritism

• As if the idea of other, less respectable sinners taking his place as your helping hand didn't irk him

• Only he deserved the right to cause that lovely fearful expression of yours after all

• You've stopped trying to understand him and whatever goes on in his head, lest you drive yourself mad

• Though, you do notice how often he seems to take offense on your behalf

• How his response to the lingering touches of intoxicated sinner on your skin is quite similar to how he might react in your place

• That utterly strained smile, his eyes dangerous, burning holes as his own skin prickles with discomfort

• It's abundantly obvious even he doesn't know why he feels this way... Which gives you a glimpse at possibly the rarest emotion to ever cross his face

• Self doubt

• "Doesn't anyone have manners anymore?" He'll tut in his usual carefree voice, pulling you away with grip that very much contradicts it as he keeps a lingering arm around you, acting as if he simply doesn't notice it

• Don't expect an easy out either

• You've become yet another source of boundless entertainment, and he isn't known for loosening his hold on the metaphorical leash so easily

• Not to worry though, if the radio demon is anything, he's keen on keeping his various sources of amusement in pristine shape

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #headcanons #x reader #implied female reader

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ptn-imagines · 2 months

Note

Greetings! I've read your work on Ao3 and I absolutely love your PtN content. Although the work is fanmade, the characterisation and interactions of Chief and sinners seem so on point to me (^^)

With that being said, I would like to request a SFW and NSFW headcanon of top!Chief and one my favourite sinners in the game - Coquelic. She considered Chief as one of her " flowers " in her 100% compliance document and was more accepting to them during her interrogation. It'd be nice to include how Coquelic dealt with admirers who were a bit too close to Chief. Thank you!

I'm glad you like my works! I hope this one is up to scratch as well -- I worry that I highlighted certain aspects of Coquelic's personality too much and others not enough, but judging by that last bit of the request, I think this should hopefully satisfy you. If not, feel free to send in a new request!

NSFW content and mild violence below the cut.

SFW+NSFW headcanons for Coquelic with top!Chief

What Coquelic wants, Coquelic gets. This is a fact of life, and the Mentor of the Garden will take what she wants with her own hands if need be.

At first, this was the Chief’s life. Though she knew two of her flowers were besotted with them – and what silly girls they were indeed – Coquelic cared little for them herself. As if the way they chained Sinners with those despicable shackles wasn’t enough, that disgusting Hush had asked her to look out for them… and there’s no way she was going to do anything that monster said.

Still, despite Coquelic’s convictions, she too ended up charmed by the Chief, just the same as her flowers. She went from wanting to take their life, to wanting to take their heart. Metaphorically, because Coquelic had taken hearts literally before, but it was a terribly messy and bloody business and more importantly, it left her victim dead, which was no longer the fate she desired for the Chief.

Still, for a while after Coquelic had made the decision to pursue the Chief, they were left with a feeling of bone-deep dread and a chill down their spine. Coquelic seemed to be popping up out of nowhere more and more often lately, and they wondered if she’d changed her mind about wanting to kill them.

Coquelic, of course, isn’t capable of doing anything in half measures. She was aware of how she was unnerving her adored one, but saw it as a necessary side-effect – after all, her confession had to be perfect. She already had a plan in mind; she just needed to find the right flower to bloom…

One day, Chief would find themself on their way to a meeting with a particularly snobby member of the City Council. They didn’t like this guy, not at all; the way he talked about Sinners was worse than your average Eastsider, likening them to diseased animals. He had been pushing to undo all the work Chief had been doing to reduce the stigma about Sinners, and though Chief had been managing to prevent any catastrophic consequences thus far, his power and influence was not to be underestimated.

Still, when they walked into the councilor’s office, nothing could have prepared them for what they saw.

The councilor was slumped in his chair, fresh blood coagulating into vibrant red Mania roses. Perched on the edge of his desk like she belonged there was none other than Coquelic, grinning as she twirled a lock of her hair around her finger. “Well, Chief? What do you think of my confession?”

They could only stare, mouth agape. “Coquelic- You- What- How-”

Coquelic sighed, tutting as if it was so very obvious. “My dear Chief, I know this guy’s been bothering you. We can’t have that, can we? So I took care of him for you.” She idly plucked one of the roses from the man’s body, and the Chief was too stunlocked to react as she sashayed over to them and tucked it behind their ear. “Forget about that ugly thing, and instead focus on these beautiful flowers that bloomed from the rot. Red roses… You know what they mean, don’t you?”

Chief’s brain was just barely able to comprehend that Coquelic was – confessing to them? This was all too much to handle. “Coquelic,” they managed to mutter, their voice hoarse, “go back to the Bureau. We’ll discuss this there.”

Coquelic pouted. “Oh, Chief, you break my poor little heart. But, if that’s what you want…” She disappeared in the blink of an eye, before the Chief could comprehend her words.

Covering up the councilor’s death was a pain – the 9th Agency had to get involved. Still, Chief knew that if the news got out that a very vocally anti-Sinner councilor had been assassinated by the Mentor of the Garden, it would cause an even bigger headache. As a result, it was several days before they managed to make good on their promise to speak to Coquelic back at the Bureau.

“Chief, what took you so long?” she whined as she noticed them approach her cell, sprawling across an ornate couch she’d managed to get brought in for her, somehow. “Don’t you know it’s rude to keep a lady waiting? I thought you stood me up!”

Chief took a deep breath and refused to respond to Coquelic’s provocations. “Coquelic, I’m… willing to go out with you. But on one condition. Don’t kill anyone else.”

Coquelic laughed, giving the Chief a smile that was both terrifying and hauntingly beautiful. “Is that your only request? Very well! I won’t kill anyone else in your name~” A statement that left no doubt that Coquelic’s days as an assassin were far from over, but Chief expected no less from her.

Coquelic demanded a lot of the Chief's attention, but also spoiled them. Flowers, custom-tailored clothes and commissioned trinkets, chocolates, the whole nine yards; Chief was genuinely worried they’d run out of space for all these gifts.

Being with Coquelic meant that the Chief also got to spend a lot of time around her Garden. Seeing how kind and protective she could be towards her flowers made them realize that Coquelic wasn’t just a madwoman; the stunt she’d pulled to confess was simply a grandiose gesture to get their attention.

She was an absolute drama queen, that was true, but she wasn’t as crazy as she first seemed. Indeed, she was perfectly capable of being serious and lowkey when she wanted to – it was just that she rarely wanted to be.

The scariest part of Coquelic was simply how territorial she could be. Though she kept her promise about not killing anyone for the Chief, they definitely noticed how some of their admirers would fall rather badly ill for a couple of weeks after being a little too bold with their affection. They were certain that Coquelic was giving them very small doses of poison, enough to cause disruptive illness without endangering their lives, but they could never quite catch her in the act.

Coquelic was also a very touchy person – she’d often drag the Chief to Garden-owned bathhouses for private outings. Baths with Coquelic were always a sensual experience; the Mentor of the Garden had an incredible body and she wasn’t shy about showing it off. She made the act of bathing seem like its own personal showing just for the Chief; water streaming down her breasts, her curves tracing a hypnotic outline of her body. It was nothing short of mesmerizing.

However, these moments also revealed the various scars across Coquelic’s body, the ones that were just barely covered by her clothes or concealed with makeup. She didn’t have as many as warriors like Zoya or Ninety-Nine, of course, but she still had a much larger amount than the Chief expected. They didn’t dare bring it up, but they couldn’t help but wonder about the stories behind these scars.

As sensual as these moments were, the actual sex was left firmly in the bedroom. Coquelic was a pillow princess, but Chief was a service top, so it all worked out very well in the end.

Besides, even if Coquelic didn’t do much to help, she was still an active participant in other ways. She preferred to have the Chief’s face buried in her arousal, which meant they spent a lot of time between her legs, and she wasn’t shy about her lewd gasps and moans, nor about telling the Chief how much of a good little flower they were. Her silky sweet voice and the taste of her ambrosia-like arousal was more than enough to bring the Chief to their own climax – sometimes without Coquelic’s permission, which would be sorely punished.

Indeed, Coquelic is no stranger to kink. It’s fairly common for her to blindfold Chief with silky ribbons, and on the days where she lets them ride her instead, she often also binds their hands behind their back. If she’s really in a mood, she’ll even use the ribbons to gag them. It’s all very artistic, of course.

Among the many gifts Chief has received from Coquelic is copious amounts of lacy lingerie. It’s her expectation that Chief will wear them, and she’ll kick up a fuss if she discovers they’re not.

Also, Coquelic is more than willing to use her fangs when biting, so drawing a bit of blood is par for the course when it comes to intimacy with her.

In the end, Coquelic was a complicated person, and indeed, a relationship with her was often messy. But she had qualities that Chief admired, too, when she wasn’t purposefully messing about: loyalty and a deep love for the people who were hers. So, much to the Chief's surprise…

In the end, they truly fell for Coquelic too.

#ptn #path to nowhere #ptn coquelic #path to nowhere coquelic #coquelic #ptn headcanons #path to nowhere headcanons #headcanons

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nikolai-alexi · 9 months

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For @jegulus-microfic Prompt: Savour WC: 890

Tags: bipolar James, manic episode, very unreliable narrator, bipolar Barty Crouch Jr, psychosis hallucination, mild violence, James is extremely touch adverse during a mania episode like this, Regulus is Going Through It, James gets the wrong impression eavesdropping on Reg/Barty/Evan’s conversation while they think he’s asleep, Reg is overwhelmed and guilty, James is Unwell, Evan is over everyone’s shit and really doesn’t like James’ friends, Barty is a good friend, Sirius/Remus/Pete don’t just abandon James in this they’re there and they probably went to go get help but James has no clue what’s going on around him really so they just aren’t featured, Evan still holds a grudge against Sirius specifically and (though he won’t admit it) he feels angry on James’ behalf because none of them realised he was struggling so he’s an ass to them, apparently manic episodes are a lot harder to write when you can’t remember what your own are like when you have them

James is aware he shouldn’t be laughing. He’s aware of the stares branding their way under his skin. He feels acutely every disgusted look thrown his way and he hears every scoff. He’s aware he shouldn’t be laughing. But he can’t stop.

Someone has turned off the party’s music. Unfortunate, that. If they kept it going maybe he could pass it off that he’d just drank too much. It’s worked for him before. He still can’t stop laughing. His lungs burn for oxygen and his stomach is cramping and his vision is blurry and his skin is crawling and he can’t stop fucking laughing.

He can’t tell how long it takes until his hysterical laughter subsides into maniacal giggles, “Savour it,” he chokes out, still giggling, “Perfect fucking Potter isn’t so perfect!”

He throws his arms wide and spins a circle in the middle of the common room, still giggling, “Someone ought to call the Prophet! Let them know that the only thing James Potter actually is, is fucking crazy!”

He thinks he’s lost his glasses, because whoever is standing in front of him is unrecognisable with how blurry everything is.

“C’mon, J,” they say. Oh! It’s Barty! Barty knows alllll about being batshit fucking crazy, doesn’t he?

His glasses are set back on his face with very careful movements. Barty knows what James can be like like this. He probably doesn’t want another broken nose. James isn’t sure he’d feel it if someone broke his nose. Would he feel it if he broke his own nose? Or would he only think he felt it because he knew it was coming?

“No one is going to break anyone’s nose, James,” Barty says, sternly, in a voice that sounds eerily similar to Regulus’ ‘shut up and quit being stupid’ voice. He must have spoken aloud. Oopsies.

A shadow appears behind Barty, and before James knows it, his body is flying through the air. Is he trying to run from it? Fight it? Who knows. He doesn’t. But he can’t stand that stupid fucking shadow starring at him. There’s a sharp pressure on the side of his head and everything goes black.

Next thing he knows, he’s hearing hushed voices to the side of him. He doesn’t have the energy to open his eyes, so he just stays still and listens.

“Why the fuck would you knock him out, Barty?!” Regulus’s voice is high, despite being quiet. He must be really upset about something.

“Reg,” Barty sighs, it sounds like he’s been repeating the words for a while, “He went to attack, what I assume was, one of his hallucinations and came after me as a result. You know we can’t restrain him. He just panics and hurts himself. The only thing I could do to get him out of there and keep him safe was knock him out.”

The breath seems to exit Regulus’ chest in one swift ‘whoosh’, “Yeah,” he sighs, “I know,”

A chair slides roughly across the floor, “It’s not your fault, Reg,” Barty murmurs quietly.

Regulus scoffs, “I should have seen the signs. I should have known he was going to have an episode,”

“Bullshit, Regulus. You’re in the middle of your OWLS prep. You’ve been holed in the library for the last two weeks. How many times have you even gotten to see him in the last month?”

Someone stands up and begins pacing, James reckons it must be Regulus. He always paces when he’s agitated, “That’s just the thing, Barty! I haven’t seen him more than once or twice since the Quidditch match with Gryffindor and Slytherin. I’ve been too damn busy to notice anything was wrong!”

A new voice chimes in, “Sit the fuck down, Regulus,” Ah, Evan’s joined the fray.

James can nearly see the death glare mixed with a pout that Regulus sends Evan as he plops ungracefully into his chair.

“Potter is not your responsibility. No, shut the fuck up and listen to me, Regulus,” James wants to chuckle, because only a Rosier can talk to Regulus like that and get away with it, “Potter is not your responsibility. You both discussed how stressful these next two months were going to be for you. He understood and respected your need for space, and other than making sure you’re taking care of yourself, he hasn’t pushed. You haven’t seen him more than a couple of times, how would you have noticed anything was wrong?”

Regulus makes a distressed noise, but doesn’t interrupt.

“Potter is not your responsibility. If anyone should have noticed something was wrong, it should have been your brother, or Lupin, or Pettigrew, or hell, even McGonagall. But they didn’t. And that’s not your fucking problem. That’s on them.”

“You’ve said it yourself, Reg,” Barty says, quietly, “James is really good at hiding this from people. He kept it from his best friends, his teachers, and classmates for six years. Hell, I deal with the same shit he does and I didn’t even connect the dots until the beginning of this year.”

There’s a resigned sigh from Regulus. James thinks he might be scrubbing a hand down his face like he does when he’s stressed. The thought makes guilt pool in his gut.

“I know you’re right,” Regulus says quietly, “It’s just…a lot. Right now. It’s all just a lot to deal with right now,”

And James can’t stop the sound that’s something between a crushing sob and hysterical laughter bubble out of his throat. Here I go again, he thinks, destroying everything good in my life because I’m too fucking much. He blacks out again.

#jegulus microfic #regulus black #james potter #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #jegulus #james potter has bipolar disorder #barty crouch jr has bipolar disorder #under 1k words

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grungeeuvu · 11 months

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It was Tendou's birthday yesterday, so here are some headcanons for him :))

-Was bullied a lot as a kid and that helped him develop some mild sociopathic tendencies (this is basically canon-)

-Finds it funny to steal Semi's ADHD meds because everyone else is freaking out and he dealt with this behaviour but worse when they were kids

-Cannot sing but doesn't give two fucks or can sing really well and still doesn't give two fucks

-has a shit ton of tunes he's made up that he hums constantly

-Makes PSHE class unbearable for e v e r y o n e

-Daddy issues but not in the fun my dad left but in the "one day, i wont call you dad and thats how you'll know i've actually disowned you"

-He's the funny one of the group

-social cues? Who's she? I only know bullcrap-i-made-up-to-piss-off-yet-amuse-everyone

-Actually doesn't have any adhd/autism/mania, he's just a weird guy

-Loves lizards

-the least popular one with all the girls - no one has a crush on him and he doesn't care

-smells faintly like strawberry jelly, it's a very cold smell, not warm like Semi/Reon

-deliberately gives really bad hugs but, if you're sad, he will koala hug you on the floor with his chin on your head and tell bizarre stories till you laugh

-Is the nicest to every one of his underclassmen (except shirabu but they are actually friends) bc he used to be excluded by his upperclassmen even though he was friends with all their favourites

-Typically doesn't keep secrets but can do

-exceptionally good liar but you can typically doublecheck with someone to find out the truth

-Had a heart-to-heart with Taichi once when taichi was 1st year and he was 2cnd year and insists this legally makes him taichi's favourite

-Uses an excessive amount of words/fancy words to irritate his friends

-annoys the shit out of his dormmate

-calls coach washijou by his first name

-everyone gets a nickname

-says mouth-fuck instead of kiss mostly ironically (no, he is actually not aware of the connotations)

-loves being in on all the gossip, never is, so makes a fuss out of any gossip he is in on: i'm talking codenames, hand signals etc

-very good at foreign languages

#haikyuu!!#shiratorizawa #tendou satori #tendou headcanons #haikyuu tendou #tendou #hq tendou #haikyuu headcanons #Shiratorizawa headcanons

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goodmorningnona · 2 months

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alright, ive had bipolar disorder for like six years already and though medication helps prevent manic behaviors, the mania doesn't actually go away, so here are some of the ways ive hacked my mania so i dont just snort a bunch of coke at a dive bar:

1. feeling spendy? take yourself to the dollar store, thrifting, or buy off of a list of "nice to haves"! set aside physical cash in the amount you can spend so you dont overspend (or at least prevent yourself from overspending as much as possible), or try only bringing a certain amount of bags to carry the goods and limit yourself to that amount of bags.

2. have too much energy and/or feel really frustrated or irritable? GYM. GYM GYM GYM. i dont care if youre not normally a gym person, go to the gym. if you dont have access to a gym, go for a run. if you cant run or go to the gym, shadow box in your house/backyard. throw pillows around your bed, jump on it, kick your legs like youre having a tantrum. let yourself slam doors. if you have access to some under-used concrete like a shitty parking lot or a driveway, break those dishes you dont even like (just clean up the glass after).

3. feeling creative? dont go buy another new hobby, pick up one of the ones youve tabled for so long! keep a list to remind yourself of your hobbies for when youre manic- looking at it may get you excited!

4. want to completely change your life, quit your job and move to a different country? move some furniture, do some reorganizing, clean the house, or throw out some stuff you dont need anymore. for this i like to put on those cleaning/reorganization shows or organizing video compilations on in the background to get me pumped up.

5. feeling restless? go to a new place. for this i say it depends on the level of restlessness what the solution is. mild restlessness (aka "urghhh im bored") calls for a walk/drive in a new direction/one you usually dont go in (NOT A ROAD TRIP, you manic motherfucker). moderate to severe restlessness (aka "there's nothing to DO IM GONNA BITE SOMETHING") calls for going to a new place, like a museum, library, even a waterfront you haven't been to before.

6. wanna do a bunch of drugs and/or party? hang out with some friends instead. if you normally do some drugs (cigarettes weed alcohol), do them around friends who know your situation so you dont overdo it. and i say only those three drugs because dear god, everything else will just make you more manic. note: be careful with some strains of weed while manic, particularly sativa-dominant- they can cause more mania and hallucinations.

7. racing thoughts? DRAW. even if youre not an artist or cant draw worth a shit, DRAW. manic drawings are actually a whole thing in psychology and are SO COOL TO LOOK AT. I even have a tattoo of a drawing i did while manic! just let your hands move freely on the page with whatever tools you feel like using.

a lot of these tactics can be swapped out with each other depending on what helps your moods. if reorganizing when youre restless helps, then great! if when you wanna change your life you go to a new place, awesome. whatever works for you! these are just some ideas. i keep this list pinned on my phone so that when im manic i remember.

if you have any suggestions, please add them!

#bipolar disorder #mania #bipolar #lessons of the hand and the mouth #harm reduction

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storm-and-starlight · 2 months

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Doctors that could pull off Heaven Sent, as in the same plot and structure of the episode as it stands in canon:

Twelve -- obviously.

Eight -- He just seems like someone who could pull off a monologue and make it interesting -- I don't know if he could pull off the "that's a hell of a bird" (I need to relisten to the audios), but a.) I feel like he could and he could definitely pull off punching through the wall (he'd be much more of a sad wet cat about it though) and b.) I would absolutely watch Eight wander sadly around a mysterious castle for fifty minutes and not even because I'm starved for live-action appearances of Paul McGann.

Doctors who could maybe pull off Heaven Sent, but it would probably need some pretty major plot/style revisions to make it work:

Seven -- once again, he could absolutely pull off a monologue and make it interesting, and he's got the charisma and the ego to carry off an episode with him as the only character, but the episode would need to have a fairly dramatic tone shift to work with who he is as a person. Seven's speeches are very different in style and tone, and his solution to the episode would need to be immensely different.

Four -- 100% has the ego to pull it off, but I'm not sure I can see him giving any of the speeches. I'm putting him into this category for the ego reasons, but he kind of also falls into the next one, where tonally it might be the same as the episode but it would need a plot/character/action shift, probably towards a much stronger puzzle sort of mystery.

Doctors who could pull off a focus episode at the level of Heaven Sent but would need a fundamentally different style of episode:

Fourteen/Ten -- they absolutely have the on-screen charisma to pull off an episode where they're the total focus, but Fourteen/Ten doesn't have the kind of speech patterns/problem-solving style that lends itself well to being a solo character. He needs someone to bounce off of so he can talk ten miles a minute and still have it work. (As a side note, this entire ranking was built around the idea that Wild Blue Yonder is basically Fourteen's Heaven Sent, and like... it really is, and also that's what I'm talking about when I say he needs someone to bounce off of -- we get just as much focus on him even with three other characters in the episode. Same with Midnight, really, but that's got too many other people to really be what I'm talking about.)

Nine -- I feel like Nine would have to go the route of getting really really angry to pull off that kind of focus episode, which means he'd need an outright antagonist he could interact with. (So basically just Dalek, tbh, but. y'know. more.)

Doctors who probably couldn't manage something like Heaven Sent: (NOT a commentary on whether or not these doctors are well-written or interesting or have distinct character writing, just a note that I think they need the rest of the cast around them in a way that a Heaven Sent-esque episode, by its very nature, removes them.)

Eleven & Five -- I don't want to sound mean but they just don't super, like... have enough ego to pull it off? They've always read as fairly mild compared to, say, Ten and Seven's mania or Twelve and Four and Nine's intensity, and their quirkiness works best when its contrasted or counterparted with someone who does have that kind of intensity (River Song) or characters who are a lot more "normal" (Amy and Rory, Nyssa and Tegan).

One, Two, & Three -- They just work best as part of an ensemble cast, like not even the case with Ten where they need someone to bounce off of, they literally just work best in stories when they're part of a group.

Doctors I don't have a good idea for:

Fifteen, Thirteen, & Six -- I either just have not seen enough of their eras or don't have a good enough grasp of their personalities (sometimes both) to say whether or not I think they'd work in an episode like this, so anyone who's got a better grasp of them please tell me what you think!

(IMPORTANT NOTE: this is categorically not a comment on any of the actors' skills -- this is about whether or not I think each Doctor as they are written would be interesting to watch in a Heaven Sent-like setting -- aka would each Doctor's personality, transported into that setting and plot, be interesting to watch or would it be dull and/or a tonal mismatch. The actors are all amazing and I love each and every one of them)

#doctor who #doctor who headcanon #first doctor #second doctor #third doctor #fourth doctor #fifth doctor #seventh doctor #eighth doctor #ninth doctor #tenth doctor #eleventh doctor #twelfth doctor #fourteenth doctor #anyways I came up with this after watching Wild Blue Yonder and basically going ''oh so this is going to be Fourteen's Heaven Sent''#''or Vincent & the Doctor or Midnight or Dalek''#anyways Wild Blue Yonder was AMAZING I want to watch it again like immediately

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yakool-foolio · 4 months

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So I decided to be a little silly and spend the night figuring out instrumental themes to go with @loremaster's Rain Code fusion designs! A music man's gotta do what a music man's gotta do! And as someone who's watched all of Steven Universe front to back and around again, I am very entertained by finding fitting music for fanmade fusions. So here goes!

Yomi/Halara - Elite Four Theme from Pokemon Scarlet/Violet (Intimidation factor upped to the max, always in control of any conflict. Even more terrifying when the intro is stuck in a never-ending loop (if ya know, ya know))

Makoto/Halara - NOW’S YOUR CHANCE TO BE A/BIG SHOT from Deltarune (Don't act like ya didn't see this one coming)

Zilch/Vivia - Nargacuga Theme from Monster Hunter Rise (specifically chose Rise's version over World's since it's a bit more mild in tone and contains piano, but at the cost of losing the bass guitar section much to my dismay)

Yomi/Yakou - Boss (Vandelay Theme) from Hi-Fi Rush (Radiating bad cop vibes like a microwave, also grunge guitar fits their fusion to a T)

Yomi/Vivia - The Trickster from Dead By Daylight (the design and personality gave me a lotta Matt Engarde and Ji-Woon Hak vibes, so I figured that the latter's theme would suit them nicely. The 'dies irae' motif fits them like a glove!)

Vivia/Makoto - Wielder Volo Theme from Pokemon Arceus (We love an overdramatic king)

Yomi/Yuma - I Saw A Deer Today from Portal 2 (Fits that uncanny science experiment gone wrong energy, which is what this funky lil fella gives off in waves)

Fubuki/Shinigami - Rival Battle from Pokemon Black/White (Upbeat and optimistic, attuned to a happy-go-lucky rookie death god)

Seth/Yakou - Alone In The Town from Silent Hill 2 (He's a real nowhere man)

Desuhiko/Vivia - End Of Small Sanctuary from Silent Hill 3 (Hits the nail on the head in a way I can't properly describe, it's just perfect for them)

Desuhiko/Guillaume - Prime Time (Studiopolis Zone Act 2) from Sonic Mania (Resisting the urge to mention Iono)

#edit: included links to all the designs #winged it but i think i got some bullseyes #master detective archives: rain code #rain code #rain code spoilers #he character tags too big for he gotdamn post #rain code fusions

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alexblakeisgay · 8 months

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Between the Blues and the Pinks (Ch. 1)

Ship: Alex Blake/Emily Prentiss

Summary: The Baby Blues: The temporary feelings of sadness following having a baby. Also known as Postpartum Depression. The Baby Pinks: The mild mania experienced following having a baby. Also known as Postpartum Euphoria.

Warnings: Mental health issues, postpartum mood disorders.

Word Count: 574

Author's Note: First of all, I would like to warn anyone who reads this that this will not be a happy fic. It's going to deal with mental health issues and it's going to get kind of dark. It does have a happy ending, no one dies, everyone gets better...but it goes through a pretty grim place to get there. I'd suggest erring on the side of caution if that kind of stuff triggers you.

Tagging: @ssa-tahlia-obsessions bc I promised her a chapter of something today.

Alex fidgeted in her chair. Not because it was uncomfortable...though it was. Not because the baby was pressing against her ribs...though it was.

It was because of her therapist's expectant stare.

It had been exactly eight and a half minutes since either of them had spoken. Alex knew because she'd been watching them tick by and wishing they'd move just a little faster.

In spite of herself, Alex blurted out, "Your clock is two minutes and seventeen seconds slow..."

Her therapist – Dr. Tara Lewis – asked, "Alex, is there a reason you're avoiding the question?" She raised a curious brow, flicking her pen back and forth.

"What was the question again?" Alex asked meekly. She'd been so caught up in timing the slow clock that she'd forgotten.

"I asked why you think it is you're not excited about your twenty week ultrasound..." Tara repeated herself.

A beat.

"Oh..." She heaved a sigh, remembering why she'd been avoiding the question in the first place. Unfortunately for her, though, she'd more or less run out of excuses. "I suppose...it's because I'm afraid of what the doctor will tell me," she confessed.

Tara nodded. "And why is that?"

"Because of Ethan," she said softly.

Tara nodded, wrote a note in her ledger. "Ethan's condition wasn't apparent on ultrasound?" she asked. When Alex nodded, she continued, "What makes you think this baby will have Ethan's condition – or, indeed, any condition?"

Alex began gnawing at her cheek until she tasted blood, reticent to say. But she knew that, ultimately, she needed to be honest... "Because I don't deserve a healthy baby."

Tara began writing furiously. After a moment, without looking up, she said, "What happened to Ethan is not your fault and the universe – or whatever you might believe – doesn't dole out cosmic feedback like that."

"It was my fault, though," Alex insisted, "I carried the defective gene. It's my fault he died."

Nodding, Tara suggested, "My advice is that you discuss this with Emily. And together, you should discuss amniocentesis."

"I'm upstairs!" Emily hollered when she heard the front door open and close. But before Alex could come to her, Emily appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing her painting clothes. At Alex's quizzical look, she teased, "I figured it was faster to come to you..."

Alex smiled softly for the first time that day.

Coming down the stairs, Emily met her in the foyer, stole a kiss. "How was your session?"

She'd kind of been hoping Emily wouldn't ask, even if she knew it was inevitable. "It was good," she said, a half-truth.

Emily smiled encouragingly. "It's helping?"

Alex nodded. Another half-truth. "She, umm... She suggested we talk about doing amnio," she stammered.

"I think we should do it," Emily immediately agreed.

Her brows leapt up her forehead. "Really?"

Emily nodded. "If it will give you some peace of mind, I think it's worth the risk." Alex seemed a little surprised by her sudden agreement. "Al, I know this is a huge part of what's been troubling you about this pregnancy and if this is going to help, I say we do it. I'd do anything to make this easier on you; if I could go back in time and wave a magic wand to undo my uterine scarring, I'd carry the baby for you."

Smiling fondly, Alex kissed her again. "It's things like this that make me fall for you all over again."

#mine #fanfiction #alex blake #alex blake/emily prentiss #emily prentiss #criminal minds

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djarins-cyare · 8 months

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9 people you'd like to get to know better

Thank you to both @ishabull and @amywritesthings for tagging me! 💖 There were a few more categories in Isabel’s version, so I’m using that template…

Last Song: Ready Now by dodie. Spotify has somehow figured out it’s the soundtrack to my fic and has put it in ALL my playlists! But I love it, so that’s okay.

Favourite Color: Teal if I’m looking for bold, or duck-egg blue if I need a softer pastel.

Currently Watching: Good Omens season 2 when I have time to give the screen my full attention (so mainly on my train journeys to London). When I’m making dinner and doing the dishes, I’m re-watching Elementary. I just finished re-watching seasons 1-13 of Doctor Who as well (prepping for DT’s return!). I’m also halfway through a second viewing of The Clone Wars (bc I was doing a whole Star Wars chronological re-watch), but I skipped ahead to watch Rebels a second time before Ahsoka comes out… and haven’t finished that yet either!

Last Movie: Attack of the Clones (during the above-mentioned SWU chronological marathon). Lately, I haven’t had the time to stop what I’m doing for the length of a whole movie!

Currently Reading: I mean, I’ve literally read nothing but Din Djarin fanfics for the last 24 months or so. On AO3 I take all F/M Din/Reader fics, sort by kudos, and then read everything one by one. I’m on page 15, and there are 20 fics on each page, so I guess I’ve now read the 300 top-rated fics. Right now I’m on chapter 2 of Birdsong by Lilac_Sugar.

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Definitely sweet. I don’t mind savoury. I cannot deal with spicy, though - I’m a supertaster, so what’s mild to others makes me feel like my mouth is on fire. I would NOT make a good Mandalorian 😅.

Relationship Status: Utterly proud of my singular status, having finally let go of those damaging social constructs that teach us we’re ‘one half of a whole’. I’m not half of anything - I’m independently whole and complete, and instead of being afraid to be alone and desperately chasing the wrong people, I’m letting love come to me when the time is right… jate’kara. Though come back to me when I’m an old crone surrounded by dozens of cats… my opinion may have changed again!

Current Obsession: Continuing in my two-year obsession with Din Djarin. He is my every waking thought. Many of my unconscious ones too 🥰. More specifically, I’m obsessed with perfecting my fic, even though it’s now published, but that’s a neurodivergent thing. I literally won’t be happy until I’ve proofread and edited it to a professional degree. I’m also busy brewing my next fics… doing a lot of planning right now.

Last Thing I Googled: Boring real answer: it was a work thing, I was looking up criminal damage sentencing guidelines for a case I’m working on. Non-job-related more interesting and creative answer: I needed synonyms for ‘desire’ for my writing. There are seriously not enough nouns in the English language for this. I did learn this one: ‘cacoëthes’ - an uncontrollable urge or desire, esp for something harmful; mania. Sounds familiar… 🤔

Currently Working On: See obsession section above. Perfecting Be-All And Endor, and considering what else to write. I currently have 22 concepts and/or summaries, some short, some long, so I’m trying to decide what’s most appealing. It’s difficult! I’m also open to requests, as I think I’d like to do a few one-shots for practice.

No Pressure Tags: @missbabyjay @dins-riduur-anthe @space-cowboy-like-me @katiemando @linzels-blog @nervoushottee @frickatives @davnittbraes @littlewriter

#9 people you want to know better #the real me #kinda nervous #but eager to interact

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slexenskee · 2 years

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Re: Does Shouto have his scar/what happened to Rei in May Death Never Stop You

TL;DR - Shouto does not have his scar but Rei is still in the hospital. Okay and now for the long version -

So we don’t know the specifics of Rei’s mental disorders in canon, but judging from her actions I imagine there’s a whole laundry list of cluster a, b, and c disorders in there to certain degrees. For this fic I’m assuming her particular cocktail is bipolar disorder (mania and depression) with psychotic features (delusions, hallucinations), avoidant/dependent disorders, PPD and generalized anxiety.

Rei’s first born is a really weird fucking baby. He’s basically an alien. He doesn’t really cry or make much noise, and he has a terribly unnerving and unblinking stare. Sometimes it seems like he just sees right through her, judging her and finding her wanting and deciding to dismiss her from his perception of reality. Or at least that’s how she sees it - is it actually? No because Gojo’s awareness hasn’t even come in yet, but the whole ‘old soul in a new body’ is still making him a weird infant. Also the whole body/soul thing in JJK is very ??? which means its possible Gojo’s soul has always been in his body, and so has his cursed energy (even if his 6 eyes and his awareness didn’t fully manifest until he was about 4 or so), so even in utero he would have had cursed energy, and who knows how that would react in the body of a human without any cursed energy to speak of? In JJK even normal humans have trace amounts of cursed energy even if they can’t see curses, which would explain how sorcerers come from non-sorcerer families. But MHA has zero cursed energy, and the 6 eyes have evolved to see quirk energy. Idk what that would do to Rei, but nothing good, I imagine. I wouldn’t say her mental issues are entirely Gojo’s fault, since a lot of that is hereditary and environmental, but it certainly didn’t help.

In a normal person it would probably give mood swings, more depressive episodes, and other symptoms that we’ve seen in JJK for normal people who are unknowingly cursed - anxiety, sudden nervousness, bad dreams, that kind of stuff. But because Rei already had plenty of undiagnosed mental health disorders, it sort of compounded everything.

Rei is already under pressure just by the nature of her marriage, which I head-canon as her agreeing to by pure technicality of the legal definition of ‘consent’, but in reality was very much so caused by the pressure her parents, society and endeavor himself was exerting on her. Basically she made herself believe it was what she wanted because everyone else seemed to think it was the smart choice - marry a rich and handsome famous hero who has offered to take care of your family and you financially for the rest of your days, in a society that’s already misogynistic? I imagine her friends in school and just everyone in her everyday life even beyond her parents was putting pressure on her, maybe not intentionally, but exerting their opinions on her nonetheless.

This is a lot of stress and environmental pressure for everyone, but again Rei already had BPD and was more susceptible to these kinds of changes, and never got the help she needed to deal with any of it. In line with cultural values, it probably never occurred to her to voice her struggles aloud or seek help for them.

She’s alone, suffering under undiagnosed PPD, can’t bond with her baby in any capacity, feels like a failure, and it’s just a huge spiral that gets worse and worse until it eventually breaks.

I imagine she didn’t start having more violent/hysteric attributes to her psychotic features until this point in her life, and they would have scared her. I have to imagine this is canon, bc otherwise I don’t know how she ended up going from a mild woman to having a violent episode and scarring Shouto.

She’s also not taking any medication whatsoever, and has never been diagnosed or seen a doctor for her mental health issues. Untreated BPD is basically a recipe for disaster in this instance, but instead of harming her children like in canon, the coin flipped on the other side and she acted on her depressive side and not her manic one, and she makes an attempt on her own life instead. Frankly its unrealistic that she hadn’t injured anyone else in one of her manic episodes beforehand, like a maid or one of her own kids, but that’s where the avoidant distorder comes in, as she’s always been more of a recluse and more likely to hurt herself in a manic episode than someone else. But anyway this is enough to finally get psychiatric help involved.

Again, in canon she’s seen to be pretty cordoned off from life and has been in a psych ward for most of Shouto’s life - that wouldn’t make sense unless she had pretty uncontrollable violent tendencies and exhibited an inability to deal with stressors in regular life, so I have to imagine her particular cocktail of disorders is extreme and was probably already there and got worse due to the environmental factors of her marriage.

To be specific I’ve slotted her psych ward admittance into the timeline to be right around the time that Gojo confronts Endeavor in the dojo. Honestly maybe even like a week or two before it. At that point in time Gojo is spending like 80% of his time away from his own house and honestly has no idea it even happened. In his POV in ch1 he mentions how odd it is that Rei isn’t in the house when he stops by because she’s always there, then he’s distracted when he notices Endeavor and Shouto.

#tw: sui mention #fic notes #fic may death never stop you #mdnsy FAQ

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shipping-all-ships · 1 year

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LOV Daemon AU

(https://hisdarkmaterials.fandom.com/wiki/D%C3%A6mon is basically where I got all my info on daemon’s since I really like the concept but don’t know the material. Daemons in this AU can be seen by everyone and cannot be harmed by their human’s quirks. They can assume the forms of real animals, extinct or not, but cannot take fictional forms. Daemon’s can touch one another without their humans feeling any effects.)

Shigaraki’s daemon is unsettled, due to his childhood trauma resulting in her feeling the need to always be ready to defend him and being stuck as one animal won’t do. She usually takes the form of a cougar on missions to keep the heroes in the dark about her instability and get the jump on them. She is noted to be a very confident and aggressive daemon, though she does not show her aggression to Shigaraki’s friends allies, and is more level headed and calm at times compared to Shigaraki, though just as blunt. She is unusual in that she’s fine with being touched by others (due to AFO constant handling of her), and can be separated from Shigaraki without either feeling ill effects, though she will be anxious to return to him. Her name was changed to Mizuho (瑞輔), the name Aiko as dead to the world as Tenko is.

Mr. Compress’ daemon is a sable mask ferret who is usually found sleeping in his coat pockets with his marbles, though she will drape herself over his shoulders when awake. She is as smart and humorous as her human, often chatting the ears off any poor daemon near her and always willing to show off the tricks she’s learned over the years as a performer. She is more outwardly vicious than Mr. Compress, reveling in the destruction they caused at the training camp and mauling Overhual’s restrained daemon when they took his arms. She is called Kaitou (怪盗) though her real name is Isako (以佐子).

Toga’s daemon is settled as a loggerhead strike, a cute and round little bird who’s methods of killing involve skewering their prey on barbed wire and earning themselves the nickname “butcher bird”. He’s a rare case of a daemon being able to use their human’s quirk, as whenever Toga transform he also takes the form of that persons’ daemon. Like Toga, he is full of life, often chattering from his perch atop her head between her buns about their crushes, and acts as a hype man to Toga’s usual mania. When they went on the run, Toga decided her daemon needed a cuter name, so she changed it to Nekketsu (熱血); he was very enthusiastic about this change.

Twice’s daemon in a unique situation, in that she was settled as a gray-and-white AmStaff Terrier until The Incident after which she became unsettled, switching between the AmStaff Terrier and an orange-and-white Brittany Spaniel; she primarily stays as the terrier. She is just as playful and energetic as Twice, always trying to get the other daemon’s in the league to play fight with her. She takes great care of Twice, acting like a therapy dog at times to help ground him, and bites anyone who takes issue with that. She actively worries for the safety of the other daemon’s on the team, which earns her teasing remarks from them, and cares deeply for all of her teammates. Her given name is a mystery because the League is sure Twice’s parents daemon’s didn’t name her Double Trouble (Dee for short), but Twice can’t remember what it was and she’s not spilling.

Spinner’s daemon is a 10 inch long Madagascar Day Gecko who often hides inside his scarf and occasionally will sit on his hair. She’s very shy and reserved, to the point that no one had actually seen her until the Kamino Ward incident. While she does not like to be separated from Spinner, she also can go great distances before they feel any discomfort; this combined with her quick nature and small body makes her perfect for reconnaissance, and it makes her happy that she’s of use to the League. Once she came out of her shell, she is shown to be very content and mild mannered. Her real name is Akemi (明美) but she goes by Twister now.

Dabi’s daemon is a meerkat of average size and color, often lounging across Dabi’s shoulders or being carried by him. She’s very quiet and aloof, preferring to sit a little ways off from the others but she doesn’t mind interacting with any of them. As if to contradict herself, she often cuddles up to Dabi or another daemon when sleeping. She does have her moments of bloodthirst and mania, especially when fighting, but her default setting is calm. (Dabi hated the form she had settled on for a while, not realizing that meerkat’s are far more vicious than their cute appearance leads others to believe.) She goes by Homura (炎) now but her name was Hinata (日向).

Kurogiri does not have a daemon and states that he does not recall ever having one to begin with. The many forms Mizuho takes and her easy affection with him often gets her mistaken for his daemon by other humans.

#bnha #my hero academy #daemon au #shigaraki tomura #dabi #toga himiko #mr compress #twice #spinner #kurogiri #touya todoroki #oboro shirakumo #sable masked ferrets are the most common and while I wanted compress to have unique color it would help is disguise better to be average #toga's was going to be a vampire bat but that cute murder bird is more her style #kind of mean to make spinner's a gecko but like. it fits so well.#she can be far away from him bc kids in his home town would take her from him and throw her far away. they both trained to be used to it #everyone's daemon can go roughly 5 meters from them but that's where mr compress has a breakdown over kaitou being too far away #<- and twice starts crying over dee being gone. toga and dabi's can go 10 m but it makes them uncomfortable.#might do more later on #shirakumo def had some kind of dog daemon

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