#every time i find a new Thing it eats me alive until i can forget about it

[oakfern]

why does consuming content destroy me. i am so bad at this. why can't i just read books and play video games like a normal person

#e #i'm sorry for this but i never make posts with essays in the tags so bear with me for once #every time i find a new Thing it eats me alive until i can forget about it #after i finished earthbound i cried for 2 days straight. u think i am exaggerating but i am not... it was scary. i could not stop bawling #when i read the locked tomb series i was literally emotionally destroyed for a whole ass month #while i had the books out from the library i just kept reading them. and rereading them. and rereading them #and i read really fast so i probably read each book like 5 times at least. and the emotional parts i read over dozens of times #anyway this time my Thing is lore olympus. i read all of lore olympus in two days and now i don't know what to do with myself #(ok to be fair i was caught up in like 2021 but it's been a while so i had to start from the beginning again) #side note: i can't wait for alecto to come out so i can be completely destroyed for the rest of my life

[gentrychild]

An anon who was rereading Anyone asked me what would have happened if Izuku didn't like eggs and how you tell a supervillain you don't like what he made and that you want something. I have bravely tried to answer said ask but Tumblr laughed at my pain, so here is it, on a new post.

------------------------

When confronted with the super villain Izuku had accidentally broken out of the most secured prison in the country, a man who had basically walked out of said prison as soon as he hadn’t been restrained anymore, Izuku did the only thing any rational person would do.

He ran like hell. No shoes, no plan, nothing except Full Cowl roaring in his veins and he fled.

At least, he tried to.

Strong tendrils stopped him dead, then hands picked him up by his shoulders and suddenly, his feet weren't touching the ground and he was forcibly brought to the kitchen table.

''No, no, no,'' All for One said with the tone one would employ with a disobedient pet or a very young child. ''Your breakfast is going to get cold and we have so much to talk about. Sit. Enjoy the eggs. If you don't like them, I can make something else.''

And he dropped him on his chair, before putting the plate in front of him. Then, he sat at the other end of the table, facing Izuku, his own plate in front of him and he started to eat. Slowly, his manners perfect, while Izuku was dying of sheer stress over there.

Then, he looked at Izuku. Then at Izuku's plate.

''You're not eating?''

Izuku looked at the man who had literally reduced people to paste last night and then at his plate of eggs and bacon, then back at the lunatic who was probably going to skin him alive soon enough. He needed to do something, to get the time to find a way out of this mess.

Now, any reasonable human being would have eaten a bit of eggs and bacon – well, eaten the bacon in Izuku’s case – but he had just woken up, was in a pre-caffeinated state and truly, Izuku had never claimed to have the slightest working relationship with sanity.

“I don’t like eggs,” he blurted out.

The supervillain, the very same man who had literally gone through a prison riot of fellow villains like he was running through wet paper, was startled so badly by those four words that he dropped his fork.

“What do you mean, you don’t like eggs???” he asked like this was a ludicrous notion, like everyone’s favorite breakfast should be eggs and bacon.

“Never liked them,” Izuku lied, by pure spirit of contradiction, far more developed than for most people, for it had been left with quite the amount of room after the disappearance of all his survival instinct.

And it was indeed a lie because, once upon a time, it had been his favorite comfort food, but when he had been a kid, during one of those weeks where his mom was gone and the neighbor supposed to watch over him was busy forgetting his existence, he had gorged himself on it at every meal until he had gotten so sick of it that he had been unable to eat them ever again.

All for One watched him with something that went beyond annoyance, it was the patented look of someone who knew one was messing with him and the words “You’re a goddamn liar” were probably fighting to be left out but he had no proof that Izuku was bullshitting him and if even if he somehow had a lie-detecting-quirk, Izuku would keep denying it because he probably wasn’t making it out alive anyway so why deprive himself of the chance of annoying his would-be-killer?

And actually, why wait?

“I prefer waffles,” Izuku informed him because, after all, All for One had offered him to make him something else.

All for One stared at him without saying anything, probably thinking about all the ways he could have killed Izuku back when they were in Tartarus. Meanwhile, Izuku gave the illusion to be staring back at him when he was actually thinking about the fact the window made a faster exit but All for One would have the time to catch him before he landed seven floors lower while the door offered him more options.

All for One eventually abandoned his plate and started to rummage through the cupboards, going straight to the place where Izuku and his mom usually put the baking ingredients. Either everyone organized their kitchen the same way, or All for One had broken in so many homes that he was just a pro at using any kitchen he found himself into.

“Do you have flour?” the lunatic called out. “I can’t find it.”

Izuku had already flowed out of his chair and was making his way to the door by walking backwards, trying to radiate nonchalance and not the need to RUN AWAY WITHOUT LOOKING BACK.

“Try the highest shelves,” Izuku helpfully suggested, his hand on the doorknob.

It was where his mom put the heaviest pots and pans they usually didn’t use, since everyone in this household needed to climb a chair to access it. With a little luck, they would all fall on All for One.

Izuku left the apartment, not even bothering to fully close the door behind him, and he ran. He was in his pajamas, had found his sneakers by the door and they were still in his hands as he booked it out of his neighborhood as fast as Full Cowl could carry him and he didn’t stop until his building wasn’t in sight anymore. Then, he stopped on a bench, the couple flirting on it deciding they could do that somewhere else when they saw him approaching, and he put his sneakers on, took a deep breath, and decided to run some more, still in the opposite direction of where Todoroki was living, and then, he would figure out a plan.

Unfortunately, liquid shadows chose this moment to appear right in front of him, revealing All for One, who was holding a bag from Waffle Palace in one of his hands.

“I didn’t find any flour or sugar so I just ordered in.”

Some people would have screamed or been startled but Izuku had already ripped the bench from the ground and thrown it at All for One. The villain batted it away with his empty hand but it didn’t matter because Izuku was already half way through the park, or at least until black tendrils grabbed him and yanked him back.

 “Your waffles are going to get cold,” All for One sternly informed him before grabbing him by the back of his shirt and he warped again, this time with Izuku under his arm.

#I hope you see this Anon #anyone fic #anyone au

[dreamfyre03]

A Dragon's Love

Warnings: Death, Violence, Grief, Descriptions of Blood Chapter 15: A Son Avenged

“There can only be two options. The princess is being held either at Harrenhall, where Prince Daemon has set up camp, or at Dragonstone.” Otto said at the small council meeting that day. It had been three days since the news of his sister’s kidnapping had broken, three days with no sleep, no food, just doing all he could to find her. Yet still, it wasn’t enough.

“And what do you suggest, My Lord Hand? We are not ready to launch attack on Harrenhall, Prince Daemon’s forces outnumber the crown forces at present. With the Riverlands declaring for the Princess Rhaenyra, we’ve lost their men as well.” Tyland Lannister said. 

Aegon huffed in frustration from his seat at the head of the table. “This is fucking ridiculous. We have dragons. We have Sunfyre, Vhagar, Tessarion, Meraxa. We can burn them all to the ground and take her back.”

“Meraxa has been unapproachable for days. The dragon keepers cannot tame her.” Aemond said. “Kidnapping my sister is an act of aggression against my rule. We must rain fire and blood down on them!” Aegon shouted, having lost patience. “What if they have her at a third location? We would waste our resources to retrieve her, only for her to be somewhere else entirely.” Otto said. The doors suddenly swung open, and a messenger slowly approached. “I’m sorry, my Lords, Your Grace. We have received a raven from Harrenhall.” Otto took the parchment, and read it, his face darkening.

“What does it say?” Aemond asked. “You owe my Queen a debt. Lucerys Velaryon will be avenged.” He read aloud. Aemond felt his guilt eating away at him. If Daenys died because of his actions, he would never forgive himself. He would make the Stranger take him too, for the only thing keeping his heart beating was that he knew she was still alive. She had to be, because Aemond couldn’t imagine a world without her. He wished he took her to get wed before he left, consequences be damned. Then she would still be here. 

The meeting went on for another hour, and he when it was over, he went to the library, and made his way to their spot in the corner, the settee where they sat the night of his name day ball, and she looked at him as though he was more than her brother for the first time. His head was throbbing, he couldn’t think of what else to do. Helaena was utterly distraught, and she tried her best to maintain a happier disposition, but when Jaehaerys and Jaehaera kept asking for their Aunt Daenys, he saw the pained look that crossed her face. 

“Brother. Helaena said I would find you here.” Daeron’s voice distracted him from his thoughts.

Aemond just grunted in response.

“We will find her. And bring her home.” Daeron reassured him. “She doesn’t deserve this. I would rather be the one taken, locked away so that she could be here, safe. Rhaenyra has lost her baby, then her son, because of what I did. If Daenys dies because of me, I will never forgive myself. Never. It would be all my fault.” “And do you think she would want that?” His younger brother asked. Aemond looked at him, knowing he was right. 

“She would tell you to stop the self pity. No wallowing, no moping. When I first got sent away, and all my letters to her were nothing but gripes and complaints, she sent a firm response saying that she won’t stand for my self pity. To always remember that I was a dragon amongst men, and to never let my time there make me forget that I’m a dragon.” He told him. “As gentle and kind as she is, she never could stand it when we pitied ourselves.” Aemond finally replied. “Indeed.” 

The brothers sat in silence, until Daeron said, “She’s always had a special love for you. I’ve always seen it. She loved Aegon like her best friend, even though sometimes she had to act as a mother, just like with me. To Helaena they were sisters in every sense of the word. But with you, it was different. She was always her happiest with you.”

Aemond felt his chest heavy with pain as he heard his brother’s words, and pictured her smiling when they went dragonriding together, or when she squealed in excitement when he gave her his gift for her name day. He remembered how she would scold him for losing his temper on the training grounds as she cleaned his cuts and bruises. She may have been her happiest with him, but he was only ever at peace when he was with her.

“We will find out where they are keeping her. And we will strike and take her back, and they shall never see us coming, to rain dragonfire upon them.” 

.

.

.

Daenys hadn’t left the rooms she was being held in since she was brought to Dragonstone. Servants brought her food, clothes, and one even brought her a book on the history of Dragonstone, although she didn’t say who sent it. She contemplated every day to summon Meraxa and escape, but with Syrax, Vermax, Tyraxes and possibly Meleys all surrounding Dragonstone, she knew it would be a losing fight for her dragon. She couldn’t risk Meraxa’s life like that, her dragon was a part of her. She sat watching the sun set over Dragonstone, when she heard the door open behind her. Rhaenyra hadn’t been to see her since her first visit, and she was surprised at the thought that she might visit her again. But when she turned around, she was met not by the face of her sister, but her nephew Jacearys. “Jace?” “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come. I’ve just returned from Winterfell a few days ago.” Her heart was hammering in her chest. Had Cregan Stark sworn to Rhaenyra? “I’ve nowhere to go, so I suppose it does’t matter.” She replied. He sat on the chair in the corner, watching her as she sat on the inner ledge of the window. His brown hair was windblown, and judging from the state of his clothes, she could tell he’d been dragonriding. His face was tired, and he looked much older than he did a few weeks ago. 

They didn’t speak for a few moments, until she said, “I’m sorry for you loss.” “Which one?” “Both of them.” He sighed, and she saw the combination of sadness and anger in his brown eyes. “My brother was innocent. Aemond will pay for his crimes.” Was all he said. She felt her chest tighten at the mention of her brother. Every day she looked out the window praying to see Vhagar soar over the horizon, but they probably didn’t even know where she was. Maybe after her leaving, he didn’t want her to come back. “And what of me?” She asked. 

“I’ve convinced my mother to keep you comfortably in these rooms. You are a princess, you do not belong in the dungeons.” She felt sickened at the idea that Rhaenyra initially wanted to throw her to the dungeons. “I am grateful for that, but am I to live out my life until the war is over in these four walls? That is no way to live, Jace.” 

“I won’t let any harm come to you. I sent you a book, did you like it?” He asked. She nodded, forcing a smile to her face. If she was going to escape, she needed allies. She got up and walked over to the edge of the bed, sitting to face him. “That was very kind of you, thank you.” He looked at her, gazing at her face, then down to her chest that was pushed up by the gown provided for her. He let his eyes trail down to her hips before coming back up to her eyes. “I know they are your family; but so are we. You can still change your alliances, marry and secure your position.” He told her, a hint of desperation in his voice. 

“You are a good person, Daenys. You are kind, and loving, and good. You are nothing like them, do not condemn yourself to the fate that awaits them because your care for them has led you astray.” 

“I am already betrothed.” “Your engagement has been broken. Cregan has declared for my mother.” He revealed. She slumped her shoulders in defeat. So this was all for nothing. 

“You say you too are my family, but my sister can barely be called my sister. The only one of you who has showed me any kindness, or gotten to know me, is you.” She admitted. “Perhaps if time was on our side, you could have gotten to know us more. But there is still time. Please, Daenys.” He begged her. 

“I am sorry, Jace. Just as your love for your mother and siblings means you cannot forsake them, neither can I forsake my brother. I love him, and I cannot betray him. I only hope this does not change what goodwill there is between us.” She maintained. 

He sighed, and stood to his feet. “Our loyalties may be different, but I cannot hold it against you. No matter how much I’d like to.” He replied, as he left, shutting the door behind him. 

Jace began to visit her rooms regularly after that, often in the evening, while the sun set, but sometimes later at night also, and at first she was conscious about sitting and talking to him while he was in nothing but his shirt and trousers, and her a nightgown, but after the first few nights, she grew more comfortable. 

As week had passed, they talked about many things, and many times, in the moment she often forgot of the circumstances that brought her to this position. He spoke of his childhood, and always acting as the protector of his siblings, and of how it difficult it was to live with the whispers of his legitimacy behind his back, and even to his face. “I suppose I understand what it feel like to feel responsible for your siblings.” She said as she took a grape from the plate of fruits he brought with him.

“Aegon was the eldest boy, but I was eldest overall, and I felt responsible to look out for them, especially when their mother wasn’t often kind, or frequent in maternal warmth.” “It is admirable, to take up such a responsibility. You didn’t have to.” He commented.

She smiled softly, memories of her childhood running through her mind. “It never felt like a burden. I love them, and I loved caring for them. It is what family must do.” She expressed, a hint of sadness in her voice. 

They were silent for a moment, before he said, “I know you would have liked that from my mother. I’m sorry she never opened her heart you. It might be difficult to believe, but she can be very loving, and kind.” 

“It’s alright. I believe you, she is your mother, and I know that she loves you.” She replied. 

As much as she sometimes didn’t care to admit, she looked forward to Jace’s visits, they became the highlight of her day. He was kind, and understanding, even funny. Maybe she was simply feeing the effect of her imprisonment more and more. She never forgot where his loyalties lay, and even though she saw the change in him from the lighthearted humorous boy she grew to know what felt like a lifetime ago, she still saw him come out when they talked. He would even make her laugh sometimes, telling her funny stories about mischief he and his brothers would get into. Her heart still yearned for home, for her siblings, for Aemond. But Jacearys’s kindness and company made her captivity a bit more bearable. 

.

.

.

Aemond dumped the glass of water on Aegon’s face as he laid in his bed, hungover, after drinking away his sorrows yet again. His brother let out a gurgled cry as the coldness of the water jolted him awake, and shouted, “Fucking hells, brother!” “We’re to meet with the council again, to see if we can spare resources to attack Harrenhall first, to find Daenys. Get up.” He commanded harshly. While Aemond spent every waking moment drowning in books of war strategy, sending out spies all over the realm, doing anything he could fathom to work on getting their sister back, Aegon went back and forth between unbridled anger, and drowning his frustrations in wine, or in whores. He groaned and sat up, his eyes dull and tired. He looked out the window and said, “It’s nightfall.” “I know. We cannot wait until morning to assess such a thing. It’s too important.” Aemond replied. “Very well, I still think I should take Sunfyre and Meraxa and look for her.” His brother said as he pulled on some clothes. “We need a strategy. We’ve no room to fail, if they know we’re actively looking for her, to attack and get her back, we lose the element of surprise.” “I suppose, but-“ Aegon was cut off by a bloodcurdling scream that echoed throughout the hallways. Both brothers ran, Aemond with his sword already drawn, ready to fight. They followed the screaming to the nursery, and when Aemond’s eye took in the horror before him, his blood ran cold. 

The rug that covered the expanse of the floor was soaked in blood, and Helaena was on her knees in the midst of it all, the limp, butchered body of a child in her arms. Jaehaera stood in the corner, Maelor clutched in her little arms, her arm bruised and her nightgown torn. “My son! They’ve killed my son!” Helaena screamed, her sobs could no doubt be heard throughout the Red Keep. Aegon dropped to his knees beside her, and pulled her and the body of their son in his arms and for the first time in years, Aemond saw his brother come apart, weep as he and his wife mourned their child. The guards finally made their way to the rooms, and it was only then Aemond realised those posted outside the rooms were dead on the ground. “Lock off every entrance and exit to the castle. No one, no man, woman, servant, not even a rat, to leave this place. I want whoever did this to be found. He won’t be spared any mercy. Go!” Aemond commanded them. His mother and Daeron were running down the halls, and Aemond saw her collapse into Daeron’s arms at the sight, wailing and crying out for the death of her grandson. Aemond snapped out of his daze, and went to the two frightened children in the corner, picking them both up, and holding them to him. As he was about to stand, he spotted a piece of paper on the ground, and picked it up. The words he read  would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

A son for a son. Lucerys Velaryon has been avenged. 

#aemond fanfiction #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #alicent hightower #helaena targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond fic #hotd #aegon ii targaryen

[marsgod]

Hiii!! I love ur writing (way better then mine during school lol) anyways I was wondering if you could do ruggie, Kalim and riddle finding out that their gn s/o is just like Willy wonka? yk with the giant chocolate factory and the chocolate river and we can forget about the Oompa Loompas!

{ᰔᩚ}.. the old willy wonka gave me nightmares, so respectfully, it doesn’t exist😀

⇢ Ruggie, Kalim, Riddle x Gn! Willy Wonka-like! Reader

⇢Warnings; Cussing, Gn! reader, romantic relationship

Kalim finds out when you give him a candy egg, telling him it was something new you wanted him to be the first to try

so he does the most obvious thing and shoves the tiny egg in his mouth, bright-eyed and grinning while the delicious flavors melt in his mouth

until something fucking moves and he immediately spits it out, horrified and blabbering about something moving in his mouth with the most traumatized look on his face while you worriedly ask if he’s okay

… he was so worried until you told him, and listen, he may be oblivious or a bit gullible at times, but Kalim knows that whatever he puts in his mouth shouldn’t be moving

more specifically, it shouldn’t be chirping or hopping around, and he feels guilty that he almost ate an “alive” birdy

once Kalim is over his trauma of almost-not-really eating an actively alive animal then he’s asking a bunch of questions nonstop

he doesn’t get to interact with your helpers a lot but he’s extremely entertained by watching them do their own thing and dressing up

Ruggie doesn’t really care if he’e hungry enough, if you give him something then he’s shoving it in his mouth faster than either of you can blink

”Oh well, I didn’t get a very good taste of it, maybe you should give me another sample”

Anyways, he raises an eyebrow when whatever you gave him moved but like- Ay, it’s food and he hasn’t gotten you completely annoyed with him

not enough to poison, anyways

he eats whatever you give him without much question, besides “what’s this?” and “is there more?”

watches the helpers sometimes, it does kinda sorts scares the shit out of him when they come out of nowhere but he gets used to it eventually

kinda sorta amused by their songs.. more confused than anything but whatev ig

the helpers don’t like him since he takes literally every “sample” (any candy left unattended) he can unless you’re watching him

Not even going to the actual sweets part yet, before overblot, the helpers hate Riddle so damn much😭 after? still not a fan but more tolerant

anyways, Riddle has a big sweet tooth and really likes the “magic”(?) of your sweets and candy

unlike ruggie, he’ll resist sampling your treats to his hearts content (lest you just happen to see him making puppy eyes towards the tray, then who is he to deny?)

jumps if something moves in his mouth, and will silently cry abt it, even if he knows its just your sweets

thinks about your jokes often, you scare him sometimes

Riddle thinks its admirable you have your own business and definitely wants to watch you work but ends up with more questions than answers by the end of it

he lies in bed thinking about it

#{..🌸writing🌸..} #twst x reader #twst headcanons #twst #twst ruggie #ruggie bucchi #ruggie x reader #kalim x reader #twst kalim #kalim al asim #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #gn! reader #twst imagines #twst x you #disney twst

[beardedmrbean]

You know the whole 'Hi we have the cure for cancer but we're not going to share it with the world' awful, literally. Mythos thing about Wakanda made notice something

The cure was cancer was definitely not a silver age thing

It stated Kirby made Wakanda (though their advance technology was a later on addition) because he was tired of poverty porn Africa

And Wakanda xenophobia was acknowledged, because I learn there a page in a silver age comic where an African American character went “what’s up brother!” to a Wakandan

And the Wakandan him a “mute”

Now here my theory because when your…ancestors went to Europe for the world wars

Actually I think a lot of white Americans (especially poor ones) had a fetishized view of Europe. And they probably had they until WW1 where many had a one in a lifetime experience to meet Europeans

Then the Europeans immediately pointed out that Americans are foreign to Europe as a Chinese person.

Which definitely broke the illusion of Europe and lead to our modern American identity

Make sense?

So sliver writers probably took that account with doing black panther Mythos

Now the cure for cancer thing, oh I got my suspicions but I think older comic readers can help

But in the 00’s there was two black writers one named Houdini and the other Christopher Priest

Now I vauge on Houdini, but him and priest had that “WE WUZ KINGS” mindset

So they pushed the advance Wakanda shit…while saying that it’s a okay that Wakanda is xenophobic as fuck.

Actually I’m going to do a part to, but I notice something with black Americans writers when they get their hands on stuff.

Oh btw for Priest, well MCU Wakanda was heavily based off his run….

But Priest and the creator of boondocks had a falling out

To the point McGrunder took a piss out of him in a boondocks episode

Oh, priest had black panther beat silver surfer by using a wrestling move….so you can guess his mindset….Im not better with some crazy shit he tried to pull at dc in the 2010’s…no sir ree…

Actually I think a lot of white Americans (especially poor ones) had a fetishized view of Europe. And they probably had they until WW1 where many had a one in a lifetime experience to meet Europeans Then the Europeans immediately pointed out that Americans are foreign to Europe as a Chinese person. Which definitely broke the illusion of Europe and lead to our modern American identity

Never thought about it that way, though there is a lot of genetic memory in Americans we have tried to keep where we came from with ourselves to a degree, or at least some of us do.

Go find the local Greek community or little Saigon, Chinatown, Little Italy, and so on.

(relevant tangent time)

Guy named Andrew Doro (looked it up) made a splash several years back by chronicling his journey to eat food from every country in the world without leaving NYC, got his blog, and IG, looks like he's still going most recent post is from 5 days ago.

Older interview here

Not something you can do in Billings Montana but it's a cool project.

But ya some of us have done our best to keep the "old world" alive in our new home, you also get the families that came over and assimilated themselves forcibly.

Or you get mutts like me who's family roots go back before the revolution in some parts and while I know what my DNA says I also know that I'm American and not Irish or German.

Probably a good deal of what you were talking about going on in the aftermath of WW1 and 2 for sure, GI's staged in England before D-Day which was close enough to the US to not throw them but I'm sure folks had some culture shocks seeing the "old world" first hand.

We also can't forget

I imagine some weebs have a similar experience.

As for the comic stuff I am not well enough versed in those to even say which is golden or silver age, I just recall that there was a deal with them holding on to the cure for cancer.

Mostly brought up when you'd get people talking about how great Wakanda was and their only experience was MCU, which is lots of people for lots of the characters in the MCU.

Had someone spouting off that Captain America wouldn't use guns, just his shield like steven universe, double dumb because he was shown using guns in The First Avenger.

But I'm sure I have a fair number of followers that will have the information on that and hopefully one or more of them adds it here or if they want to send it as a ask that works too.

Honestly my biggest issue with MCU BP was people thinking that either Wakanda was real or it's what Africa would have been like if not for colonialism.

Which both things are insane just for different reasons.

#zoomer huey anon

[veggieguy23-me]

I couldn’t sleep, started thinking about totk again.

what happened to the sheikah tech? Well, what if they literally faded away? Like all the tech was under a stasis effect for 10000 years, which broke when ganon was defeated. And like the shrine monks, it all blew away in green smoke. then another thought hit me, how would Zelda react to that? Losing her family, friends, kingdom, and then her main interest? And then I wrote an outline. I’m not even a writer how did that happen?

Immediatly after the calamity

The master sword is returned to the pedestal in the lost woods to rest. It’s work finished hopefully for good. 

The spirits of the king, mipha, daruk, revali, and urbosa pass on. 

The divine beasts go inert.

After a 2 month recovery period, link and Zelda begin to investigate the divine beasts, starting with vah rudania. 

However, try as she might Zelda simply cannot figure out what’s wrong with it. With any of them! She even attempts to have yunobo activate the beast, which doesn’t work (doing wonders for poor yunobo’s self esteem). The bronze stone alloy the divine beasts, and in fact all ancient sheikah technology are made of has started to turn grey. 

Then it get worse. 3 months later the shrines and towers, once blue, maybe orange, shut down. Zelda is beginning to worry, as she frantically tries everything she can think of to try and revive the technology, hindered when the shiekah slate itself one day shuts down. The technology slowly deteriorates until one day, half a year since the the defeat of the calamity, the technology, the beasts, the shrines, the towers, simply fade away in a matter link notices similar to the monks link had met in the shrines. 

Zelda is inconsolable. She hardly ever leaves links house. She won’t eat. Link is worried. He tries anything he can think of to lift her spirits, one day he packs their things and drags Zelda to Faron to see the zonai ruins. And suddenly Zelda is alive again. Something to research! Something new! 

She throws herself entirely into this new topic, and it’s like nothing had ever happened. 

1 year after the calamity, a blood moon occurs. The people hold their breath but ganon himself doesn’t return, simply his monsters. The blood moon itself had long proven itself an annual routine, long before the calamity, easily dealt with by the royal army, but it’s frequency hadincreased to (idk let’s say) once every three full moons. (Weee headcanons! But I mean like, ganon wasn’t truly dead was he? That was just a bunch of sentient gloom/malice that leaked from rauru’s seal. Makes sense the blood moon would plague the land long before calamity ganon attacked.)

However, where before the destruction of the royal army combined with the greater frequency of the moon meant that hyrule never had a chance to try and get ahead of the problem, this time was different. In response to the reappearance of monsters a new group is formed, aptly naming themselves the monster hunters. Three squads of brave hyruleans willing to risk their lives to prevent the monsters from retaking hyrule. 

Link joins them, being the greatest soldier in all the land, and while he visits Zelda constanly his absence from day to day life lead the people of hateno village to forget his face. 

Speaking of Zelda, she has not been idle. The blood moon showed her something too, that the cycle of calamity is not finished, someday ganon will return. With no sheikah technology to aid them, Zelda fears how the next generation will fare. In an attempt to find anything she can leave to that future generation, Zelda founds the zonai research team, to investigate the ruins, research the zonai, in hopes of maybe discovering something useful (of course she also just plain wanted to do that anyway, the moon simply gave her the “selfless” motive)

The children of hateno village are starstruck by her passion and speeches, and Zelda finds herself lecturing to just as many children as scholars. So Zelda hires the newly renamed Hudson construction, Bolton having retired, to build a schoolhouse for the children. 

Meanwhile Purah and Robbie haven’t been idle. 4 years after the calamity they present Zelda with a prototype of something they’re calling “The Purah pad”, a name which Robbie seems reluctant to commit to. 

Right now it only has the camera, but Purah promises one day it’ll have map functionality, as well as teleportation! 

Purah just needs to set up relay towers to provide it with the topographical map data.

Having done such a good job with the schoolhouse, zelda reccomends Hudson construction, who begins work on them straight away. 

5 years have passed. Half of the “skyview towers” as Purah is calling them, have been built. Zelda wishes to begin resettling central hyrule, and once again hires Hudson construction to rebuild castle town itself. 

They begin by setting up a base around the old sacred grounds ruins, surrounding the remains of a secret hidden passage that Zelda is able to unlock. They call it lookout landing. Purah opts to move there herself, in order to more efficently survey they construction of her towers from a more, central, locale. 

6 years since the calamity. Hudson construction workers in castle town are falling Ill. The cause seems to be a strange airborne fog reminiscent of the malice of calamity ganon, emanating from caverns under hyrule castle, ones that Zelda’s father had said had been forbidden since before the castle itself had even been built. 

Acting on a hunch, link and Zelda reclaim the master sword from the lost woods, and set off for the caverns underneath hyrule castle. 

#loz botw #tears of the kingdom #botw #zelda totk #zelda #Please feel free to steal this.

[liv-is]

One Song for Every OC

Thank you to @violets-in-her-arms-writes for tagging me! Find her post here <3

This took me so long to do because the playlist for this WIP has like 80 songs on it and I had to narrow it down like crazy LOL

Rules: Assign a song that fits the vibe of your OC.

Sylah | Ship in a Bottle - fin

Ocean waters rising above your neck / You feel the glass start to crack / Sailing on a ship in a bottle / Water's leaking through holes in the bottom / Flying flags of ships that have long since / Sat at the floor of the sea, but in defense / You set sail alone, there is no crew / No one on the deck who can help you / This is all your own battle to win / This is your ship, and you are the captain

(I put the rest of them under the cut because god it got so long YES i couldn't get the spotify embeds to be compact OOPS anyways...)

Sonea | Still Alive - Demi Lovato

Woke up underwater, throat chained at the collar / Couldn't get any farther from the daylight

But I'm still alive / I don't wanna just survive / Give me something to sink all my teeth in / Eat the devil and spit out my demons

Sucked out the poison, drowned out the noise / 'Cause I made a choice and drew a hard line / Let the fire catch until I'm back to ash / If anybody asks, I'm turnin' back time / Chasing the ghosts that would haunt me at night / Facing my past 'cause I'm up for the fight / Somebody turned on the light

Zova | Self Control - Laura Branigan

Another night, another day goes by / I never stop myself to wonder why / You help me to forget to play my role / You take my self, you take my self control

I, I live among the creatures of the night / I haven't got the will to try and fight / Against a new tomorrow, so I guess I'll just believe it / That tomorrow never comes

I'm living in the forest of a dream / I know the night is not as it would seem / I must believe in something, so I'll make myself believe it / That this night will never go

Nieve | EXCUSES - Ande Estrella

I really don't think she meant to pull my hair / I'm caught in a fistfight it doesn't hurt, I swear / No, I promise she's not as bad as you may think / But it's true, she's convinced me I'll never be anything / She made me cry as her cry for help by / Making friends with the enemy to control how I felt

I live to learn / In pain as I do / and I love to make excuses for you / Befriend the flame and you'll burn / I learned that from you / I love to make excuses

Slow down / Pick up on my cues / This was not in my mind when I said I'd like to get to know you

Cas | Sorry About Your Parents - Icon For Hire

I'm sorry about your life, you had it pretty rough / Bending over backwards, never good enough / You poor thing, it must suck to be you / And I know it's not your fault / It never is, is it?

I, I know what it's like, staying up all night nursing wounds / It takes more than I have, pick fights with the past, I always lose / Don't you know? / That's know way to live / I, I know what it's like, staying up all night nursing wounds

Tagginggggg literally anyone who wants to do it (sorry if that's a cop out but I rly would like to see as many people's as want to do it .... feel free to tag me if you do! <3 )

#writeblr #tag game #my wips #{sanguis in monte}

[holocene-sims]

get to know me (sims edition)

thank you so much to @dandylion240 for tagging me!! <3

i feel like everyone has done this bad boy by now, so i don't know who to tag, but please consider yourself tagged if you see this and want to do it!

what's your favorite sims death?

ngl i love the jelly bean death from TS3. when i was younger, if i got bored of a sim, i'd just feed them jelly beans over and over until they kicked the bucket and i could get rid of them.

if not the jelly bean death, then mummy's curse! it's way too easy to get sims cured of it, though, so you really have to commit to letting them suffer through it.

alpha cc or maxis match?

i'd say somewhere in between! i much prefer maxis match, but i'll use alpha occasionally. if i do, it's probably for specific clothing items that no one has made in mm style yet.

do you cheat your sims weight?

for story sims, yes. for gameplay sims, no. i really don't care about it in gameplay and i just let my sims look like what they look like. but in my story, i do cheat it because i keep VERY tight control over those characters. i like continuity and making sure everyone sticks to their canon, but also, when things do change, i like to plan for that to happen in the narrative at a logical point in time for the character.

do you move objects?

constantly!

favorite mod?

literally anything that gives me god-like control over my sims. NRaas and MCCC are my loves <3

first expansion pack?

it was world adventures for TS3.

i remember when i bought the base game on PC for the first time. picture it - september 2012. supernatural just released, seasons is on the way. everyone and their mother is watching lifesimmer. i played one household, an opposites attract couple. i got bored, killed the husband, and then never touched the game again.

at least, i didn't touch it until i watched LGR's reviews and bought world adventures! yay, interest revived.

do you pronounce live mode as aLIVE or LIVing?

i always say it like "liv"

who's your favorite sim you've ever made?

unequivocally, it's grant <3 my beloved

also his future love interest, who i will continue to tease simblr with by vague posting about them

have you made a simself?

yes, but i never play my simself or use them for anything.

what is your favorite EA hair color?

black or red, 100% - they look amazing on every single sim. like i challenge myself to find a sim who doesn't look good in black or red hair. i don't think it'll happen!

i love the unnaturals, too, but more in TS3 because i can customize them to my heart's desire and give sims their natural root color.

also unpopular opinion but in TS4, the original blue black is wayyyyy better than the new one!

favorite EA hair?

honestly, just the curly hairs. me and giving sims in every game curly hair are an inseparable duo

favorite life stage?

you know, i don't think i have one favorite, but i can tell you which one i hate. i HATE playing as kids. they can't do anything and they're not interesting and their clothing options are horrible. babies, infants, toddlers, teens - all okay! kids? NOPE BORING

yes, i would rather play with a burrito or bassinet baby than a kid.

the kids are slightly better in TS3 because i feel like it's easier to get them to make friends, plus i can ship them off to boarding school if i really want to, but they're still not interesting...

are you a builder or in it for the gameplay?

gameplay and stories all the way, baby. i hate building. will i do it occasionally? sure. does it make me want to eat my monitor so i never have to stare at my poor life decisions ever again? yes!

are you a cc creator?

yes and no. i love doing recolors tbh but most of them end up being only for my private game. i've not shared very much on here publicly. i always want to and then i forget or just don't feel like cleaning up my files to be sharable.

do you have any simblr friends?

a few, yes! i'm very shy and short on free time to browse tumblr so i suck at reaching out, but i've made a few amazing friends and lots of close mutuals, i'd say. i'm always wanting to make friends on here, though, so hey y'all, let's be besties! if i follow you, i treasure you. trust me!

do you have any sims merch?

i've never seen sims merch to begin with?

do you have a youtube for sims?

i've had two LMAO. i had one as a kid where i uploaded gameplay clips. i had one video get a decent set of views (okay, like a hundred or something, idk) where i did a world adventures time lapse.

and then i started another one in like 2019? i did speed CAS and decorating videos in TS3. i deleted all the videos, though. i did think about reviving that channel a while back and doing let's plays for sims and RPGs, but then i got paranoid about people hearing my voice. i had the mic and everything ready, left over from a school project.

you know, sometimes i still think about using that channel but i probably won't.

how has your sim style changed throughout your years of playing?

i don't know. i think they've always looked kind of the same. i always lean towards making sims with freckles, big eyes, long noses, curly hair, and who aren't skinny and never wear a color other than black. if you ever see a sim of mine with features that deviate from those, just know that it was a severe struggle and concerted effort to do so.

what's your origin ID?

i'm not giving that out to the whole wide world. though, you can DM me for it if we're mutuals and you want it for any reason!

who's your favorite cc creator?

i love rusty-sims and sifix because they make absolute top-tier formalwear cc. formal is my least favorite outfit category in any sims game and they make it so much easier to work with <3

how long have you had simblr?

this particular one? since december 2021.

how do you edit your pictures?

basically not at all. i use gimp to crop and add borders, then photopea to add text on my story posts.

what expansion pack is your favorite?

it's definitely not world adventures. what do you mean it's world adventures? i've never ever ever mentioned on this blog or in this post that i love world adventures. i don't know where that assertion is coming from!

it's world adventures

#if there's one WA fan it's me #if there's no WA fans i'm dead #i'm finally catching up on tag games sorry jfgfdjd #there's some from months ago i still have to do #tag games

[thebramblewood]

Thank you to @venriliz for tagging me! I'll tag @thecrumblingisle, @sweetbeagaming, @cactusblossom, @simatomica, @10000dreams, @solarlemonade, @lotuso3o, @cinnamonferns but feel free to ignore! I know it's a long one.

1. What’s your favorite sims death? Oh my god, I forgot the running with scissors death in TS2 existed until @venriliz mentioned it, but that made me remember I once killed off an unwanted legacy heir using that method. :/ Don't ask me why I couldn't just move him out and leave him to his own devices. Anyway, I think death by cowplant is pretty classic.

My LEAST favorite Sims death is freezing because I had a really traumatic experience in the second generation of my legacy where my Sim Phoebe made the bright decision to host a birthday party for one of her housemates at the Bluffs in Windenburg in the dead of winter and everyone decided to start swimming and like three people froze to death, including the birthday girl. It remains a horrifically vivid memory to this day, lmao.

Putting the rest under a cut!

2. Alpha CC or Maxis Match? Maxis Match for the most part. I find that anything alpha just ends up looking too out of place unless it's closer to the Maxis side of the spectrum.

3. Do you cheat when your sims gain weight? If it fits their lifestyle, I'll have them work out/eat healthier, but I try not to interfere otherwise.

4. Do you use move objects? Absolutely, it's permanently activated!

5. Favorite mod? MCCC is obviously essential, as well as anything that makes CAS better looking and more efficient. I also wouldn't play without Sunblind these days! I can't get enough of those gorgeous sunrises and sunsets.

6. First expansion/game/stuff pack you got? I think I got City Living and Seasons at the same time. I was kind of a late adapter to TS4 but fell very quickly down the rabbit hole.

7. Do you pronounce “live mode” like aLIVE or LIVing? I want to think I pronounce it like LIVing because I know that's technically correct, but I think half the time I still pronounce it like aLIVE in my head.

8. Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made? Oh, this is so hard... If we're going solely on Sims who originated in CAS, there aren't really many options! Most of my Sims have been born in-game. I am really proud of Helena, and I think everyone can tell how attached I've become to her. Hmm, I need to make more Sims, I guess.

9. Have you made a simself? Noooooooooo. The Sims for me is very much an escape from myself, so I don't think I ever will.

10. What sim traits did you give yourself? I would probably give myself music lover, perfectionist, and socially awkward.

11. What is your favorite EA hair color? The lightest blond, I think? The one that looks almost platinum and isn't quite as yellowy as some of the others.

12. Favorite EA hair? That short choppy hair from Cottage Living (the one the Creature Keeper has). For a while, I was absolutely eating up every single variation I could find.

13. Favorite life stage? If I'm being honest, young adult. I find that my gameplay is most varied and interesting when my Sims are in that stage because they're traveling, meeting a lot of people, trying new things, etc. Once my Sims settle down and start a family, it's easy for me to forget places and people outside their home lot exist and everything becomes more routine.

14. Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay? Me, a builder? That's a funny joke. I'm definitely more in it for gameplay and storytelling. I'll do everything I can to avoid building a lot myself. I don't mind redoing interiors, but it takes me forever, so I try to limit how often I do that, too.

15. Are you a CC creator? No. I've done a couple very basic recolors/edits for myself. We're talking kindergarten level stuff. I don't really have the willpower for learning anything more complex right now.

16. Do you have any simblr friends/a sim squad? Sim squad is such a weird term to me. I do still feel like a bit of an outsider in the Simblr community at times, but I also have a handful of mutuals who I've enjoyed connecting with, and it always makes me happy to see them in my notes and on my dash!

17. What’s your favorite game? The only games I've ever been heavily into are The Sims and those Nancy Drew computer games... I think you can guess which one is my favorite. But if we narrow down the franchise, The Sims 2 has a very special place in my heart.

18. Do you have any Sims merch? No.

19. Do you have a YouTube for sims? No, and as someone who can't stand hearing or seeing recordings of myself, it would be a nightmare.

20. How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing? I've honestly wondered about this myself! I don't think it's really changed so much as become more refined. I don't make a ton of Sims, so I don't think I have an obvious aesthetic style. But my play style has definitely changed in that it's more storytelling-geared, which does mean I spend less time actually using gameplay mechanisms and more time setting up. My visual style (e.g. composition, editing, etc.) has definitely evolved a lot even over the past few months.

21. What’s your Origin ID? Going to pass on this one! My sister and I share an account, and I don't upload anything on the gallery anyway.

22. Who’s your favorite CC creator? Oh, so many! I will download basically anything that sforzcc or softerhaze upload. My absolute favorite hair creators are simstrouble and okruee. And I've been using a ton of stuff from awingedllama and leaf-motif when decorating lately. But those are just a few that come to mind.

23. How long have you had a simblr? I only just started my Simblr back in January or February. But I've been on Tumblr itself way too long to admit out loud.

24. How do you edit your pictures? I try to let Reshade do the heavy lifting, but I also like using a few of these actions in Photoshop to make them pop a bit more.

25. What expansion/game/stuff pack is your favorite so far? City Living because San Myshuno is one of the only worlds that really feels "alive" to me and I think it does festivals best, and Cottage Living because it's the complete opposite but the slowed down, quiet, countryside aesthetic is so serene and relaxing.

26. What expansion/game/stuff pack do you want next? I don't trust EA to do it right, but all I want is bands and another super dense and populated urban world and more apartments! I would also never like to see another world inspired by an American suburb again.

#i am almost physically incapable of giving a concise answer to anything! #asks

[beelsbignaturals]

Dead is the New Alive

A/N: Happy birthday to me!!! To celebrate being a dramatic pisces, I've decided to finally post this super self-indulgent self insert MC fic! It's definitely a work in progress but the intended audience is literally me and whoever is unfortunate enough to stumble across this. Big thank you to Aki for helping with literally everything ily homie! Yes the first scene is low-key a songfic. The song is What Will I Remember by Emilie Autumn if you want to give it a listen. Title is also an Emilie Autumn song. Guess what album I listened to while writing lmao. Anyways enjoy!

___________________________________________

Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, character death (ish), teeth, strong language

___________________________________________

What will I remember?

"Does it hurt? Finding it hard to breathe? I'm sure it must be very unpleasant." The sadistic ass was taunting me. Quite literally adding insult to injury

What will I forget?

I did all this because I saw how much this family was hurting and this is the thanks I get?Someone laughing over me as the life drains from my eyes? After I go through all of this bullshit some stupid demon thinks he has every right in the world to end my life?

Honestly, if I didn't have claws tearing into my throat while this asshole is crushing my windpipe, I'd probably be tempted to smack that stupid grin off his face. Unfortunately, I'm in survival mode.

When this life is ending and gone

Fine. You want to kill me? I came into the world screaming and covered in someone else's blood. I plan on leaving the same way. It's game time, bitch.

What will I regret?

The next few moments are a blur of flailing limbs. One particularly well-timed kick sends me falling to the floor. Not risking it, l don't bother to catch my breath. Breathing is secondary. I need to run.

If tomorrow I don't wake up, what happens?

Moonlight shines through a nearby window like a beacon. Here goes nothing.

My sunrise, or sunset?

One foot in front of the other. Just keep running. He's behind you. Keep going. Almost there..

If I never were born

Fuck. Strong arms grab me, stopping any chance of escape. No. It's not over. I'm so close. I sink my teeth into the nearest thing I can find. Not letting go until I hear a sickening crunch followed by a string of curses. Name another human who took a chunk of flesh out of a demon's hand. I'll wait.

If I never died

Last shot. Come on. Somehow, I find the strength to launch myself out the window. Glass tears my arms to ribbons, but l'm flying and l'm free. Eat your heart out, Sally Hardesty.

Would it even matter at all?

All too soon, I collide with the pavement, knocking what little air I had left out of my lungs. I drag my bloodied body along, rocks and broken glass digging into my palms. I keep going until I physically can't move.

What should I decide?

Hopefully this will buy me enough time for someone to realize what happened. I mean. They wouldn't let me die, right? If even Belphegor was right and they didn't give a shit about me.. at the very least Lucifer wouldn't want the exchange program to be a failure. It would mess with Diavolo's plans. I'm not dying.

I always imagined I'd mean something to

someone

At least that's what I try to convince myself. The blood loss would beg to differ. But. I'll be okay. I'm sure magic will fix me up in no time. Just stay awake until help arrives. I try to focus on all the things I'll miss if I fall asleep. Late night nacho shenanigans with Beel. Watching Legally Blonde with Asmo. Helping Mammon hide from Lucifer. Kicking Levi's ass at DevilKart. All these precious moments that I'd hate to never experience again.

If I won't, 'least I tried

I'm fading in and out of consciousness. Time feels funny. Everything is in brief snippets. After what could have been hours or minutes. I register someone speaking. It doesn't sound familiar. Pressure on my chest. Sharp pain in my neck. Belphegor must've caught up with me. I wait for more torture but it doesn't come. Just a strange numbness. Decorating cakes with Luke. Feeding stray cats with Satan.

When my body suffers

So much yelling. It's too loud. I think I'm being moved? That's Mammon's voice! I did it. I'm safe. Why is he crying? They can fix me, right? It's too cold. Maybe not.

When to breath is pain

Levi is here, too! Maybe.. no. He's crying too. Oh. I guess this is it. At least I'm not alone.

Is it really madness to think

I try to reach for the nearest person. Maybe I can will someone hold my hand? No, that just made them move more. Don't leave me! Please.

Think of breaking this chain?

"Lucifer, get yer ass out here," He's staying. Thank fuck.

Is the future mine?

"Alaura, can you hear me?" After a failed attempt at nodding my head, which honestly just hurts way too much, I opt to try again to find Mammon's hand. This time, I'm actually successful.

It's kind of funny how, despite the fact I lay here dying, this is the most alive and real I've felt in a long time. These last few months have been spent on autopilot. Honestly, I didn't really believe any of it was real. I suppose death has a sobering effect.

God knows I have a past

So much commotion. So many voices. Not like I can understand much of what they are saying. Not when it all blurs together. I hold onto Mammon like a lifeline. Which, I suppose he is.

Where's my second chapter?

It seems they decide it is in everyone's best interest to not leave me lying on the ground in the middle of the night. That would be great if not for the fact they have to move me.

Or will the first also be my last?

The gaping throat wound is, understandably, not fucking pleasant. When strong arms lift me off the pavement, I struggle with energy I didn't know I had left. Kicking and screaming until it feels like my vocal cords are fried.

Is my story over if I fall asleep?

"I know, I'm sorry." The second born whispers, rings digging into my skin. Or maybe that's more glass. Regardless, he cradles my head against his chest, minimizing any movement that would further irritate my injuries.

Would anybody find me?

Crashing can be heard throughout the house. Part of me hopes Belphegor falls through a window too. Just for a small taste of his own medicine.

And would anybody weep?

With that pleasant thought, sleep takes over

I can't even pretend I care

But songs I'll never sing

Well, that means something

Yes, that means something

The next few days are spent in relative darkness. I can't see but I hear everything. It's like a strangely pleasant sleep paralysis. Plus I'm never alone for long. Asmo sits beside me, gently plucking glass from my skin, cleaning wounds of any dirt, and using a cloth to wet my lips and prevent dehydration. I get a whole manicure while he tells me about how I "got Belphie good". Apparently the majority of the dried blood stuck under my nails isn't even mine.

If it's not Asmo, it's Mammon. Half of the time he's moaning about how stupid I am. The rest is spent begging me to wake up. I try to find a way to tell him I'm right here. I'm awake. But I'm frozen in place. I don't think I've ever heard him cry this much.

Occasionally, Satan will pay a visit. Reading the Odyssey to keep me entertained. He's also the only one to update me on what's actually going on. From his visits, I can gather that I had a second attacker, not just Belphegor. The plot thickens. I barely have time to process that before learning said bitch was a vampire. This whole paralysis was just the beginning of my transformation.

Yeah, that's a hard pill to swallow.

I'm not left to think on it long. It turns out that one of the only two humans in the Devildom disappearing off the face of the earth does not go unnoticed. Doubly so when it comes to the resident angels.

With that in mind, I suppose it's not really a surprise that Luke all but breaks into the House of Lamentation, demanding to know what those horrible demons have done.

It'd be sweet if not for the little fact the second he got within ten feet of me, it feels like my bones are melting. You could tell me the air has turned to boiling water and I'd believe you.

His tiny body rushes into the room, grabbing my arm. "Oh, Alaura! Don't worry, I'll save you!"

I can only scream in agony as my flesh sizzles in his grasp. Shocked, Luke grabs my face before he gets a fucking clue. Cute kid, not the sharpest crayon in the box.

The pain of it all causes my eyes to open for the first time in days. I can hardly register the blinding light coming from the hallway. Just that this poor kid, who is, granted, older than I will ever be, starts sobbing out apologies as he stumbles backwards.

Smoke comes off my skin in waves, right where the tiny handprints sit. What is happening?

Poor Luke is dragged away, crying while half a dozen demons pour into my room.

Were they always this loud? I can't process the million different voices all speaking at once. It feels like all the small noises are worming their way into my head and eating my brain from the inside out. Footsteps sound like gunshots. The sound of fabric rustling makes me want to rip my hair out. It's too fucking loud.

Eventually catching on, Lucifer orders everyone to let me rest. He carefully applies some sort of ointment to my injuries before following suit. Alone in the dark I can finally begin to piece together what happened.

Belphegor killed me. Or tried to. Someone else swooped in to finish the job. But that's besides the point. Belphegor tried to kill me. It seems the others don't hate me enough to want me dead. Or at the very least are keeping up appearances. I'm not sure where my attempted killer is but I haven't seen or heard about them since that night.

Right... how long has it even been? I'll have to ask when someone comes around again. Knowing my housemates it won't be long before someone sneaks back into my room. Lucifer be damned.

Next order of business... apparently I'm a vampire? Not the most outlandish thing I've seen during my time in the Devildom but it's certainly up there. All I really know is from what Satan's told me and whatever I can find in my notes on Devildom history. Based on what the textbooks say, vampires are extinct in Hell. So how did this happen?

Only one way to find out and I need the facts before I let myself have a crisis. I guess the textbooks are a good starting point. Ignoring my protesting muscles, I drag myself out of bed to find any information I can.

Blah blah due to the vampire population rising at unprecedented rates and the threat to lower level demons, the King called upon the royal army to deal with the infestation.

Infestation? So I'm vermin now?

Startled by sudden pain in my jaw, my mouth opens in a silent gasp. Crimson blood drips onto the page. Just a few specks at first, but before long, I'm nearly choking as the liquid spills from my mouth.

Frantic, I run through the halls. Not particularly caring about the trail of blood I leave in my wake. Thank fuck no one is in the bathroom.

I lock the door behind me. Muscle memory. Before dashing to the mirror.

Holy shit. Maybe I'm not dead but I sure as hell look it. My body is littered with healing cuts, not to mention the two angry handprints that scorched my skin. Then there's my throat. It's healed somewhat but the mangled flesh has barely begun to scar. Honestly, it doesn't look like something I should've survived.

Fuck. The dull throbbing in my mouth turned sharp once again. Mouth opened as wide as I can manage, I try to inspect the affected area, but God, there's so much blood - I hear the small clink of something hitting the ceramic.

Holy shit. No. This isn't... this can't be happening. I'm hyperventilating as I force myself to look down. There's no way that...nope my entire tooth is sitting in the sink. Cool.... this is just great. I'm. I'm just hallucinating. Or something. That's the only explanation. Maybe I ate Solomon's cooking. That could be it. Food poisoning. Really bad food poisoning.

"Alaura?" A low voice interrupts my manic train of thought. "Alaura, please... open the door."

I don't even bother trying. I can hardly hold myself upright. Who's laughing? Is that my voice? Shit. I'm on the floor. When did that happen? The edges of my vision are fuzzy and dark. When I close my eyes, all I can see is a startling picture of my tooth. A small amount of gum is still hanging on for dear life. Much more blood than what could be considered healthy framing it like some grotesque work of art. Shit. My head hits the cold tile, and I'm watching as the door shakes on its hinges. Maybe I should've locked it.

Once again I wake up, tucked snugly in my bed. This time, however, I can spot a certain white-haired demon curled up on my floor, snoring softly. Cute but there is no way that's comfortable. I can see the dark circles and irritated skin, most likely raw from crying.

For a moment I'm transported back to simpler times. Mammon breaking into my room after a night at the casino, ranting about how "shits rigged", before passing out. Usually I'd shove a pillow under his head and throw a blanket over him before going to bed myself. Maybe even play with his hair. It's soft as hell but I know he'd complain if I did it while he was awake. I even got a beanbag chair at one point so his spine doesn't riot. With such a mundane scene, I can almost pretend things are normal.

Almost. When I poke at the tooth causing me grief earlier, I find it is longer and sharper than I remember. No. No. No. No.

"Mammon," I hiss. "Mammon wake up."

He wakes with a start, rubbing sleep from his eyes before jumping into action.

"You're up!"

I nod slowly. Knees hugged to my chest. "Is this real?"

With a sigh he plops down on my bed, walking me through complex math problems until I know without a doubt my subconscious could never make that up.

Teary-eyed, I stare at Mammon before I finally speak again. Talking feels strange with a killer toothache and one fang.

"What now?"

#om! shall we date #obey me #obey me mc #Alaura #batlaura #obey me x oc #canon x oc #obey me oc #vampire!mc #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #shrimp writes

[chloe--bug]

Savannah is beautiful like a mall is beautiful. It's where I grew from a child into a woman and into an artist, I always loved the way I never felt like the most creative one in the room. It seems like the rules are looser here, like people can be true and enjoy themselves without purpose or reason. I could be mistaken. No one waits until the weekend to get drunk. I find it funny how everywhere you go there is an inner circle and if you drink enough Fernet you get to be part of it, it feels a little like teenagehood, I love it, does that make sense? I feel very lucky for my collection of thrifted clothes and my books and how easy it is for me to befriend strangers.

I went to the coffee shop next to the park today, imagine a big big room with tall ceilings and mismatched chairs, and a playlist that's wildly different every time you go in. I ordered a hot green tea. The loud music makes it hard to focus but keeps you awake, I guess. I met with girls from my class too, laughing about our professors and complaining about the final project. I felt like a real college student and a real girl. I drove home in the dark feeling warm inside. I didn't eat dinner. I was exhausted from the way I've been going at it with my mind, I know the key is to listen to your body and treat it like you'd treat a loved one's, I wish I could take care of myself that easily, sometimes I can but not as of late. So I went home and I kept working.

When I first got here and I was 17, the streets felt much further apart, and I thought I knew exactly how I'd spend my time here. In some ways it is exactly how I pictured it, exciting and creative and busy. I've never lived somewhere that felt like it touched me and held me every time I stepped outside. I think there is something interesting in this, I think it points to my future and lessons to be learned. The feeling of knowing the city is breathing has in turn made me much more alive, I worry about keeping up with the neighborhood often. I think this is a good thing for both of us. When I first lived here it felt frightening almost, the way I got to class on the bus and didn't even look out the window or know which streets we were taking. Now I can go anywhere, I can give tourists directions and advice.

When I am in the park or driving away from class or picking up my prescriptions at the grocery store I forget that I haven't lived here forever, like I know this place better than I've ever known anywhere. And now my application for graduation got approved, and the barista at the coffee shop next to the office knows my order, and I've made my way to the place I prayed to be at for years, and life is happening fast, and I feel beautiful in my sweatpants, and I feel lucky to be here in such an independent way.

I wasn't sure exactly what I was getting at when I started writing this, but I think I know now, I already knew that I was scared of things changing, I'll never not be scared, but I think I'm getting excited about it now. I've never been one to be comfortable being comfortable, I don't think I could be a good artist if everything was so effortless like that. It's nice to sit in the ease of it all, for now, I can award myself some pride for making my mark here, and I speak silent thank yous when I can walk for miles and find my way home without trying. But I know it's time for me to leave soon because things are easy and floaty and calm now.

I used to worry a lot about the election, I would get emotional imagining not having the job I have now and having to say goodbye to my best friends. I used to worry a lot about my lease ending in April. I picture these things to be the last ropes tethering me to my current life: I should be so thankful to see them cut so gracefully at such a perfect time for me to try something new. I see myself as fortunate to be so young and healthy and brave. Making my place here was hard, but now I have practice and I want to try it again somewhere new.

You will be the first to know when I decide where I'll go next, and Savannah will always be my special town where I became the kind of special you can only become here. I will make my last five months here the sweetest months I've lived yet so I have something to top when I leave. It feels so good, it feels real and warm and windy, it feels like I can picture myself telling this story in my old age.

[astaroth1357]

How Often They Worry about MC…

For those who don’t know, I have a little dog named Charlie and she is a large portion of my world. There's no need to be alarmed, my dog is fine, but there are days where I hold her and all I can think about is how much I worry about her health down the line… I suppose we often do that for the people we love, particularly the ones who may not last as long as we will. Take that as inspiration if you'd like.

Lucifer 

Near constantly. 

If you tracked his blood pressure on a grid, you'd see it start to continuously rise about when he decided they were worth having in his life.

Lucifer is the eldest sibling to a whole crew of brothers so he's no stranger to worry. He worried about his brothers when they were young, he worried about them after the Fall, and he still worries about them now (even if he's less open about it).

But a part of him knows that his brothers can handle their own, at least to varying degrees. The MC, though? He's far less sure…

They've proven rather resilient, but also headstrong and reckless. Neither of which are good things to be in a place this dangerous...

If Lucifer isn't careful, he can catch himself staring at a wall or window just wondering where they are and if they're doing alright… If he called them every time he had a passing worry, their inbox would be full by the end each week.

He holds himself back because he doesn't have the time to constantly protect them, but that doesn't stop him from sending a text once or twice a day. They better respond or he'll start (secretly) panicking.

Mammon

He forgets their mortality from time to time, but every time he remembers it hits like a ton of bricks…

Mammon is a pretty "in-the-moment" person. He doesn't spend a lot of time dwelling on the future, but whenever he does the thought of losing MC always comes back to him again and again.

Like. It's gotta happen eventually, right? They're human, humans die, hell they don't even live that long to start with!

The MC can always tell when Mammon's getting worried because he'll get uncharacteristically quiet and pace around or hover by them…

Every little injury or strenuous task will suddenly seem like too much to him as well. 

If they need to carry some boxes, he'll carry them all.

If they have to jog to class, he's carrying them. 

If they so much as get a papercut, he'll have a heart attack.

It's not very hard to get Mammon out of these funks - he really does want them to reassure him that they're okay - but he's never going to get fully over it…

Not until he can steal whatever top secret immortality formula Solomon must have used anyway… He'll get it off that bastard eventually.

Leviathan

Thinks about it so often he has to actively try not to just to get any peace…

He dodges his fears for MC like a protagonist dodges lasting consequences. Every time he feels one creeping up, he's always got a distraction waiting…

"Hey where's MC at? I hope they didn't fall into the riv-OH HEY CHECK OUT THIS NEW GAME!!"

"What are they doing over there…? That looks hard, what if they bre-WAIT DIDN'T MY FAVORITE VOICE ACTOR JUST RELEASE A NEW PODCAST???"

"What if the MC dies tomorrow and they leave me all alo-DEVIL FIGHT 200! YOU CAN'T BEAT DEVIL FIGHT 200, LET’S BREAK MY HIGH SCORE!!"

Cut him some slack, his psyche cannot handle the idea of losing them on top of everything else he grapples with every day.

If, on the rare occasion, he does let himself fall down that rabbit hole he becomes extra clingy and practically begs MC not to leave his room… like ever. He'd bubble wrap them if he could.

Anytime they get really hurt or really sick he refuses to leave their side even if it means he has to awkwardly sit on the floor. He just needs to be able to glance at them every so often to be sure they're alive… Still breathing?? Phew…

Satan

He worries, preps, rationalizes, then worries again…

For Satan, knowledge is power and every scrap of information he can learn about MC is more power he can use to keep them safe and healthy.

Yes, he will want their medical history. Yes, he's going to need a list of prescriptions. Family members too. And no, you do not get a choice.

He'll read up on as many things as he can - pawn medical journals off of witches and get magical alternatives from Solomon.

The cycle usually goes: 

1. He's lying awake at night because he just heard about some terrible bacteria that makes human's skin peel off or something.

2. He does all the research he can on this bacteria, its treatment options, best prevention methods, etc.

3. Gets right about to break out the rubber booties for MC to wear around, then realizes they have a very slim chance of catching said bacteria since it's only native to incredibly remote parts of Indonesia.

4. Feels instant relief that MC will probably not catch flesh-eating bacteria and can finally sleep again…

5. Hears of some other human medical horror from Solomon and starts to worry…

It's a vicious cycle indeed… But at least he's getting a lot of medical training. Soon enough he'll be the Devildom's version of a human vet (which I guess is just a doctor, come to think of it. 🤔)

Asmodeus 

Lives so "here-and-now" that he doesn't remember often, but when he does it's always heartbreaking…

Asmo usually tries to worry about things as little as possible. It’s bad for the skin, you know? But when the MC is involved, all of that goes out the window.

Like how a delicate blossom eventually wilts in the snow, the MC is bound to leave them in time… Usually there's supposed to be something beautiful in that kind of tragedy, but perhaps he's just too close to them to find any romance in it.

The thought of their death gives him breakouts and anytime they get hurt or sick he's the first brother to offer them comfort. Every time.

Because he doesn't feel like he's as physically strong as he brothers, he tries to make up for it by minding their health in other ways. Anything to keep his MC strong and beautiful as always!

If Asmo is in a worrying mood, then he may also compensate by trying to take the MC out to a party or some fun event. Why sit around worrying by himself when he could be making memories with them now, right?

Beelzebub

It comes in waves, mostly at night.

When your thoughts throughout the day are mostly, "I wish I wasn't so hungry," it doesn't afford you a lot of time to think about much else.

In a way, it's a good thing since he experiences a lot less stress. But those worries are still there and they mostly plague his dreams…

Beel doesn’t feel hungry when he's sleeping, so a lot of his fears will make themselves known overnight. An injured or dying MC is often in his rotation of nightmares though, of course, he'd rather it not be…

After having one of these dreams, his first instinct is to always make sure the MC is okay. If they're with him, he'll hug them and check their heartbeat. If they're somewhere else, he'll go to them or shoot a text.

He has woken up without realizing his nightmare was all a dream though, and usually it's up to Belphie or MC themselves to console him while he cries… It's so heartbreaking, sweet boy just puts a lot of pressure on himself to be sure they're safe…

When he worries, it's like they're the most beautiful and expensive China set in a room full of bulls and hammers. If he could tape them to his side, he probably would. He gets scared for them that much…

Belphegor 

More scared about it than anyone else in the House.

Despite his calm demeanor, Belphie is truly afraid of losing his loved ones beneath the surface… He's already lost one of his most dear siblings before, going through that again may just break him.

Unfortunately, he's also felt just how fragile the MC is firsthand... He's not even the strongest of his brothers, yet he was able to snuff them out so easily… Who's to say someone else won't try?

Like Beel, MC's death is a recurring nightmare for him but he can usually shake off his dreams fairly well, if not change them mid-sleep. More scary is when something is actually wrong with them or they're not feeling well.

Belphie always sets his inner laziness aside for the MC when he can. If they get sick, he'll usually be right along with his family to take care of them - even if he has to skip school to do so (not that he cares about class anyway).

When he's worrying about them, he tries to play it off at first, but soon enough they'll notice him acting overly concerned and losing sleep… Best to calm him down before he starts getting cranky.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons

[kyberphilosopher]

Smile

Word Count: 3467 Requested: yes. Based off ‘505′ Warnings: strong hints to sexual disposition. Spoilers if you squint.

“I’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck... I did last time I checked.” -Arctic Monkeys, ‘505′.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

With hoarse breath and unwavering eyes, you look up to the stars as you speak. “So, you’re really going to do it then?”

“I have to,” you hear him say. His voice has gotten far more mature and calm since the first time you’d heard him speak. Still angry and determined, but in an intelligent, adult way. Eren is a more capable person now. The only thing left to do is wait and see if that’s a good thing, or a bad thing. 

“What do you think are the chances of winning?” you question. A shooting star whizzes across the sky at that very moment, and it’s gone before you can think of a wish. 

You turn around to face him, but his eyes are already on you. Once upon a time, Eren’s eyes were emerald and teal and deep. Now they’re paler. They are cold and steady as a byproduct of who he’s become. It’s hard not to wonder what he’s thinking about when he looks at you like this, especially since he’s become harder to read over the years.

At first, Eren was one of the most insufferable people you’d ever met. He acted out so often, it was hard to see him as another person of intelligent life. You mostly just minded your business through your cadet years, usually hanging around Reiner, who was also difficult to see as intelligent life. Sometimes you and Eren would argue, but it was never passionate. You just had different world views. 

Things got better when you found out what Eren really was. Since you hadn’t made top ten, you could only choose between the Garrison Regiment, or the Scout Regiment. And with Eren’s newly discovered power showing the promise of hope, you decided on the Scouts. He liked that. 

After that, it was hard not to mature at the same time as he. Eren often blamed himself for the death and carnage that surrounded the regiment. You were solely responsible for the passing of your best friend. And after everything that happened with the government, almost dying at Shiganshina- you knew you couldn’t stand this much longer. With your relationship with Eren still budding in its early and steamy stages, he was the only one you told of your desertion. You abandoned the corps, finding a small, abandoned farm within wall Maria to hide out in. 

Eren was too tired and sick of everything to think you were being cowardly. He wanted to leave too. Maybe come with you. But Eren had plans in the works that he couldn’t leave alone. He visited you less and less. Luckily you never made a fuss. 

And now Eren wants to end the world, to save the world. How does he expect you to react to this?

“I just thought I should see you,” Eren replies. You know he’s deflecting your question. You’re not stupid. 

You nod slowly, blinking as you think. “Am I going to die?”

Your companion crosses his arms calmly. “Yes,” he tells you. 

There it is. 

“You know I can’t support you in this, right?” you tell Eren, equally as calm. 

He only replies after a moment, also in deep thought. “I know.”

You look back up to the sky, sighing out through your nose. “Why did you come, Eren? Did you want me to tell you that I think you’re doing the right thing? Or was it because you need to let out some anger? I wonder.”

“I did want to see you.”

“Do you still?”

Silence. 

“Yes.”

“And I suppose there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”

“No.”

The stars are glittering with pastel hues, like a rainbow, or kaleidoscope. Each one is a different size, bordering on different shapes, all fusing and melting together like your idea of heaven. You can barely even see the midnight color of the sky through all them. It is beautiful, but it’s also bitter. Everything is bitter, here. 

“I didn’t make myself any dinner yet,” you say. “Couldn’t think of anything.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

When she was alive, Eren’s mother would make a soup for the family. It was creamy, hot, filled with meat and cheese at the bottom. Eren never liked soup, but he did love that dish. She was always sure to make extra for him, so that he could enjoy it for several days. And although it wasn’t until after she was gone that Eren realized he rarely ever thanked her for it, it was still one of the warmest memories Eren had. 

He fills your wooden bowl with it, being awfully generous. He knows that even though you haven’t eaten much in the last few years, you too had grown fond of the soup. He knows no matter how slowly you force it down, you are enjoying it. It burns the roof of your mouth every time, but you’ve never cared. All that matters is the creamy sauce, and the cow cooked to perfection. 

You stare at the fireplace beside you, flames cackling and licking upward. Eren sets the bowl in front of you, and takes the seat on the other side. You know he sets his long hair behind his shoulders. You’re already prepared. From your pocket, you produce a stretchy brown hair tie on the verge of snapping, handing it to him. 

“Thanks,” he says, even though this routine has happened however many times he’s seen you. 

“You’re welcome.”

The soup is as amazing as usual. You’re willing to bet Eren makes it even better than his mother did, but you dare not say it aloud. It’s creamy, perfectly seasoned. It goes down your throat, still steaming. 

“Does Mikasa know about this?” you question, taking one more delicious bite. 

“No. None of them do,” Eren answers. “Armin will figure it out soon.”

“You want me to kill ‘em?”

Eren shakes his head. To a lot of people, this would be taken as a joke. But this is nowhere near it. Your tone is too casual, too low for it to be humor of any kind. And the way the man across from you reacts- he’s thinking the same thing. 

“No.”

“How are they, then?”

Eren thinks as he takes another bite, the warmth creeping up his chest sweetly. “They’re alright for now. I don’t know for how much longer. I can’t see everything.”

“Can you see who’s next?”

He squints at his bowl as if he were angry, but his eyebrows barely move. “Sasha.” 

Sasha. She was always a good presence to have around. While she seemed like the type of person who would annoy you, it was hard to hate her. And you admired her keen intuition anyway. 

“Will you give her something for me?”

Eren nods. Then you both go back to eating for a few seconds, basking in the orange glow from the flames. 

“How are things here?” he questions after a minute. 

“The same,” you tell him. “I think the cow might die soon.”

Some people might reply with condolences, or sympathy. But your lover does not, and you do not expect him to. “I’ll get you a new one,” he says flatly, almost like a promise. You nod once.

Despite the atmosphere which can only be described as bitter, you’re glad to see Eren again. You’re glad that he’s alive, and as alright as he can be. The bed is always colder without him, heated up only by your lingering fingers that you pretend are his every other night. Whenever he leaves an article of clothing behind, usually on purpose, you hold off on washing it so it can smell like him for you as long as possible. Then there are the hair ties you keep either in your pocket or on your wrist, specifically for him. The razors in your cabinet he often didn’t even bother using. 

Even with the sullen demeanor that had managed to overtake both of you, there was at least one thing you cared about in the world still. Maybe it wasn’t the most conventional kind of caring, or the healthiest coping mechanism. But it was still caring. And all that you cared about was him. 

You knew you weren’t Eren’s first priority. You were probably second, or third. It didn’t bother you. Eren’s head was one of the first things lost when the truth was presented to him. It came back coldly and sternly, in contrast to how previously hot and impatient it had been. But by then your head had also grown colder and sterner. In simpler terms, Eren did care for you. He did love you. But he would consider letting you die if it meant achieving what he set out to do, and you knew this. 

Across the table, Eren lifts his head to look up at you as he chews slowly. The burning meal slides down his throat easily, albeit painfully. It doesn’t even register with him, his piercing eyes slowly gaining a glint from the fire light. 

You meet his eyes after a few seconds, feeling them on you. You don’t say a word, don’t even give a questioning look. You just hold him patiently, which is something the two of you find yourself doing often. 

“You can’t stop it,” Eren speaks, looking you dead in the eyes with a steady gaze. There is love behind his eyes, far behind the anger, but you can tell from the tone of voice he is trying to tell you something as if it were an order. Your lips part slightly from the intensity radiating from your lover, who doesn’t move a muscle. “You’ll be free soon.” 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Dinner ends. Eren helps clean up the dishes for you and goes to get water from your well so you can clean easier. You already know from the way his thumb brushed against your own when you took the bowls that you’ll likely be bent over the sink in a few minutes, which you don’t mind, but you wonder if he’ll be willing to be softer than usual as an apology for what he’d said earlier. 

He’d meant to scare you. You’re intelligent enough to figure that out. Even though you don’t scare easy, and you didn’t even give an extreme reaction, the look in Eren’s eyes had made your heart drop to your stomach. Sometimes you forget that Eren sees everything. Then he says something like that to remind you in the most memorable way. 

The wooden door opens and closes behind you. Boots scuff the ground for a few seconds, drawing closer and closer as something in you sparks with anticipation, as it always does. A pail of water hits the surface beside you, partially sloshing over the sides, shining silver in the moonlight from the tall window in front of you. Finally, ultra hot hands slide around your waist and push gently but tightly against where your ribs diverge. 

A jaw leans down on your right shoulder, chin poking against your collarbone. Locks of hair brush against your own, just as the hand on the left runs across your side to finally put a small band in your pocket. 

“I did miss you,” Eren’s low voice seemingly growls, his chest rumbling softly against your back. 

“I was thinking about you,” you admit with monotone, knowing your lover can read through it like as easily as a knife slices through skin. 

“I hope I didn’t worry you,” he says, though you can also read through his own tone. He probably didn’t care about worrying you. He definitely doesn’t still. 

“You didn’t.”

You place a both bowls in the sink, running your fingers over the dirty spoons. Eren’s orbs follow your movement. You can feel his chin change positions ever so slightly in the coming seconds. 

“Can you pass me the rag?” you ask, eyes focused on a piece of food on the spoon that doesn’t even exist. 

In response, Eren doesn’t pass you anything. Only his right hand gives you any kind of acknowledgement, passing from on your ribs to down lower. His fingertips skin over the erogenous zone under the waistband of your undergarments. 

“I worried about you,” Eren murmurs boldly. The hot fingertips pass under the cloth finally, pricks of stubble on his jaw scratching your neck and shoulder as he shifts. “I wanted you to be okay.” His left hand raises to grasp the breast above it. Slowly at first, then firmly, like a warning. Everything is a warning with him. 

Your head lulls back uncontrollably. The back of your hair matts up as it rolls against his own shoulder. 

“I said you worried me,” your partner grumbles. “Did you hear me?”

“No,” you lie lowly, refusing to let your voice shake despite the shiver in your throat. 

“Mm,” Eren hums in condescending understanding. A force presses against your core, which has turned burning hot and ice cold at the same time. The force pulls away, a string of something smooth and slimy following it that makes a sound draw from your lips. It’s high pitched, weak, and unstoppable. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so associated with Eren. 

His hand gives your breast a firm squeeze, soreness blossoming from the center. Your back arches quickly and returns lax against him, though now something pokes against your bottom that makes your eyes pop open with a new alertness. Eren’s hand gives you no time again. From your chest, it flies to your throat, holding it back with soft strictness as the other finally dips into the hot pool between your hips. 

“I worried about you.”

A strangled groan releases from between your lips again, this time fully carried up through the air. To Eren, it must sound like nothing more than music, or background noise. 

Thick cylinders pump inside you to the knuckle. They feel better than your own. They always have. 

It feels good. Full. Tight and fast and like the inside of you is quivering under the weight of something that you can’t see or hear. Eren is like a blanket supporting you from falling over, keeping you upright with his grip and his fingers buried inside of you. Prodding every angle, every spot. Not necessarily romantically, but still lovingly. He has always had this goal during intimacy. Nothing matters but communicating to you just how close he wants to be. 

“Eren,” you choke, a dribble of spit sliding from the corner of your lips. 

“Again,” he hisses in response. His fingers hit a tight spot, making every muscle in your body clench at the same time. 

You don’t say another word, your mouth hanging partially open as you focus on everything around you. And it’s all Eren Jaeger. His smell, his growls, his voice, his breathing, his chest, his muscles, his hair, his anger, his bitterness, his intelligence, his determination. It’s overwhelming. It reminds you of getting swept in one of those waves at the ocean he described to you. He’s yours. No- more likely, you’re his. End of story. 

“I said again.”

“Eren,” you moan.  

His head nuzzles into your neck comfortingly, his fingers pushing faster and harder. You can feel how warm you are, never mind how slick. And the way your own body holds around his digits every time he pulls away is enough to make you all the more warm and slick. 

But then...

What is he doing?

He had said “you’ll be free soon”. And yet, here he is, gripping you tightly as he forces you into the corner of submitting. And yes, it is hot. It arouses you as it always has. But something about it makes your stomach turn into a knot of unpleasantness, in contrast to the other one of liquid pleasure. 

“Eren,” you strain, squirming against him. 

Eren speeds up again. A grunt falls from his own mouth from his own power, and you know he’s getting off almost as much as you are. It doesn’t stop feeling good. Feeling euphoric. 

It’s getting rougher. Rougher and harder and faster, more intense. 

“Eren.”

Another gruff moan from him. 

“Eren! Stop! Stop!”

Eren’s palm softens away at once. It lifts away, his eyes opening and his hand stilling inside of you. He watches you shake as you gaze up to the ceiling, wide eyed. Your thighs sputter, entire body twitching. You didn’t cum. 

His eyes trail over you. You’ve worked up a steady sweat glistening and glowing, shivering and shaking and quaking because of him in the best way. You’re his. His partner, his friend, his ally he knows for a fact he can rely on.

“C-can we... Eren...” 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Drips of water dribbling down Eren’s temple. One of your hands are threaded in his brunette locks, holding them back so you can have an uninterrupted view. The other hand is dabbing cloth against his forehead and hairline, bathing him softly. 

He’d gone a while without bathing again. You could tell. Eren’s eyes are glued to yours, deep teal memorizing all the flecks in your own as if he hadn’t a million times over. 

Eren loves you. Dearly. He’d travel all seven hours and forty five minutes just to tell you that. He doesn’t know what made you stop earlier. He doesn’t ask. But he’s not mad. Overall, Eren understands that it doesn’t matter what you asked to stop for. You give the word, he obeys. Not because he has to, but because he loves you. 

Still, he knows something is wrong. You don’t show it. You’re steady, calm, mature, apathetic as always. But in the pit of Eren’s stomach, something brews. A warm, strange feeling of intuition and omniscience. 

“You look very pretty today,” Eren ventures, wondering only of your response. “Did I tell you that?”

Your eyes squint. “Thank you,” you reply back. 

The cloth continues to rub against his skin, cleaning something that probably doesn’t even exist. Dirt, maybe. Eren’s stopped taking care of his skin in the past few years. 

“You’re welcome.”

Your eyes squint again. This time, they gloss over with sharp wetness like glass. The eyebrows crease like a break, your bottom lip trembling as you suck it between your teeth. 

He doesn’t know what he was expecting. But your lover wasn’t expecting this. 

Eren hates when you cry. He can remember the first time he’d seen it, but not the most recent. You didn’t cry often- you were strong. Crying over something as useless and flimsy as emotions didn’t seem worth it. So what was this for? What were you about to make Eren break down inside over?

Your hand falls limply from his forehead. Shoulders hunch over in defeat, staring down at the floor as your hair covers over your face. And then the sniffles come, choked out coughs like sobs. 

Eren can see the lightest of bruises he’d left on you from earlier, but you’d never had a problem with it before. No, it was something else. But what?

Silent, your teeth grit together as you wince, tears streaming down your face inexplicably. 

“Earlier w-when you,” you gulp, snot beginning to form, “when you- I did worry a-about you. I- I don’t know why I didn’t...”

You stumble forward. Eren stands from your bath tub to catch you as you slump against him tiredly. 

“I hate it when you go.”

Eren switches positions with you, pushing you down to sit on the edge of the tub. He takes the wet rag from your hand and holds your shoulder back so he can have a good look at you. Then the cloth dabs against your own forehead, just as you had done to him. 

“I hate it here,” you sigh, a single tear drop blurring your vision as it falls finally. 

Your lover moves the cloth from your head to your cheeks, smearing the wetness into your skin and away. They moisten and dry, your eyes red and shiny. Eren tilts your head up under your jaw, creasing his brows and using the towel to clean closer to your eyes. 

“If it helps,” he says, looking straight into your eyes, “you’re crying, but I still think you look pretty.”

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t help even a little, because you love him. 

A soft smile creeps to your lips, your hands dropping in between your thighs. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

No I didn’t reread this lmfao enjoy. Hope I did you justice anon

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot eren imagines #aot eren x reader #eren smut #eren fluff #eren angst #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger fluff #eren jaeger angst #eren jaeger imagines #eren yeager smut #eren yeager fluff #eren yeager angst #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan eren x reader #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan fanfiction #Eren Jaeger #eren jaeger fanfiction #fanfiction #smut #fluff #angst #x reader #imagine #imagines #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin x reader

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

amnesia // bucky barnes

Summary: During a fight in Madripoor you get hit in the head resulting in forgetting the last ten years of your life. And most important, your boyfriend.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: TFATWS SPOILERS, memory loss, zemo is a dick, sad bucky, angst

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Also, thanks to @bob-kane​ for proofreading this!

divider by @firefly-graphics​

main masterlist

He didn’t leave your side, not  even for a second. Worry was eating him alive. You had been unconscious for a while now. Some asshole had hit your head pretty bad, and  they couldn’t risk take you to a hospital to check if everything was alright.

You were still in Madripoor, so Sharon suggested taking you to her place. You were lying on her bed. Bucky had been beside you the whole time, his flesh hand holding yours .

“Are we even sure  she’s gonna wake up?” that’s the worst thing Zemo could ask.

“If you don’t shut up, you will be the one not waking up to see tomorrow,” When it came about you, you were Bucky’s number one priority, the rest of the world didn’t matter. And he will definitely kill Zemo if he dared to say something like that again.

You’ll wake up. You had to.

He was right.

You opened your eyes and blinked. The first thing  you noticed was the throbbing pain in your head. It was worse than waking up from a hangover. As you tried to raise your hand to wipe the sleep from your eyes, you realized someone was holding it. Stretching your sore body, you turned your head to examine your surroundings. Your vision was blurry and you could barely make out  three vague shapes moving in the corner attested.

“Y/N?” Although your vision was still hazy you distinguished the figure of your friend approaching you.

“Sharon?”

At the sound of your voice, the hand holding yours released it, allowing you to wipe your eyes in an attempt to see things more clearly.

“What happened?” your voice was sore, you were still confused

“Some dickhead knocked you out,” Sam walked cautiously towards you

“How are you feeling?” You turned your head to find the source of the voice, at your left you saw a dark-haired man with blue eyes.

“Like I have been hit in the head,” the man chuckled, if you still had your sense of humor that was a good signal. “Where am I?”

“My apartment,” You narrowed at the response of your friend, you took  a look at the room. This wasn’t Sharon’s place.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked when he saw the confusion on your face

“You had moved and I don’t remember?”

Sam, Sharon, and the man with blue eyes shared a concerning look.

“Y/N, we are not in Brooklyn. We are in Madripoor,”

“Where?” What kind of name was that for a town. Pretty sure they didn’t have a lot of tourism.

The man that had remained in the corner laughed. “Seems she had a reset”

At this the blue-eyed guy exhaled deeply and went towards him, grabbing him by his shirt “One more comment, and I swear I’d kill you,” rage and anger were dripping from  his mouth.

“Y/N,” Sharon called you with a soft voice, you averted your gaze from the two men to your friend, “Do you know what day is it today?”

You looked at her confused, not knowing why she would ask such a question. “Friday?” you answered her question, not too sure.

“Year?” she insisted.

“2014,” now you were very sure about this.

Your friends shared concerned looks. “Do you know who this is?” Sam asked, pointing at  the blue-eyed guy. You shook your head. “Are you sure?”

“I would remember a pretty face like that, Sammy,” but the truth is, that you didn’t.

“What about him?” He pointed to the man in the corner.

You scrunch your nose “Not my type,”

“Hey!,” the man seemed offended by your answer “For your information, I have a private jet,” he tried to impress you.

“I don’t care,” you simply said

“Y/N,” you felt the hand of your friend on your shoulder “It’s not 2014. We’re in 2024”

When you saw people get amnesia in the movies they always made it romantic, but this didn’t feel like that. You couldn’t recall anything from the last ten years of your life. You were unable to deal with the intensity of your emotions. You felt lost, you didn’t feel at home.

It was a lot to process, Sharon had been branded an enemy of the States, Steve was gone and now there was a new Captain America parading around, Tony and Natasha were dead….

“What about him?” you pointed with your head to the guy who claimed to have a private jet.

“These dickheads broke him out of prison,”

But Sam didn’t like the answer Sharon gave you, so he quickly clarified “He broke him out of prison,” he pointed at his friend “Not me”

You looked at the blue-eyed man “And who are you?”

Bucky felt a shard in the guts. That question really hurt him. You completely forgot about him. Your mind had erased every piece of him. You were his biggest support and now he had lost you.

“Steve’s friend. Bucky.” Sharon explained, “Steve talked to us about him, remember?”

You did remember. And you also remember Steve telling you how he fell off the train and died. “Wasn’t he dead?” You were confused.

“He survived. And HYDRA captured him.”

Your eyes widened. “They captured you?” He only nodded, his gaze fixed on the ground. “What did they do to you?”

Sam cleared his throat. “Let’s not talk about that now,” You didn’t press, knowing that it wouldn’t be an easy topic for him to talk about. “How are you feeling?”

“If we ignore the fact that I don't remember the last ten years of my life, pretty good, actually.”

“We have to go back to New York,” Bucky suggested  “A doctor should see you”

“That would  be  best,” Sharon agreed.

Although you wanted her to come with you, you knew she couldn’t,  not until Sam got her the pardon he promised. At least, that's what they told you.

“It’s going to be a long flight,” The ex-prisoner was the first in walking out of the room.

“I don’t like him,” you muttered

“Me neither,” Sam concurred.

Sam was sleeping in his seat, Bucky was looking through the window and the other guy was nowhere to be found, not that you cared. You were flying back to the States, with some luck you would see a good doctor and maybe you’d get your memories back.

“You okay?” you sat next to the blue-eyed guy, he averted his gaze to you when he noticed your presence.

“Yeah,”

“You don’t seem okay,”

“You’re the one who had been hit in the head. How can I be the one who doesn’t look okay?”

“Touché,” you laughed, and he gave you a half-smile in return. But you could see how his eyes hold sadness behind them. “When did we meet?”

He paused for a second, thinking if he should answer your question or if this was something you should remember on your own. But considering they already told you some of the things that had happened this last ten years, your question wasn’t that much of a deal. “In Bucharest. In 2015.”

“That was before the sign of the Accords happened, right?” he nodded “What team was I on?”

He chuckled, “Which one do you think you were in?”

You made a pensive look that made him smile. This time it reached his eyes, and you couldn’t help the thought of how beautiful he was. “Well, I have always been loyal to Steve, but I have to say that the idea of  going against Tony scares the shit outta me,”

You don’t know when it happened, you kept talking for a while before you eventually fell asleep on his shoulder. He brushed the air off your face and caressed your cheek gently, not wanting to wake you up.

“You know it’s not the end if she doesn’t remember you, right?” Zemo sat in front of him “At least she’s alive,”

“It would be the end, for me,” yes you were alive and he was thankful for that but everything that you had shared wasn’t there anymore. He was a complete stranger to you. You didn’t remember all the nights you stayed up by his side when he had a nightmare, you didn’t remember your time in Wakanda together, you didn’t remember all the stories he had told you about the forties, you didn’t remember staying up until morning  talking about your future, about building a family together, you didn’t remember all the times you made love, you didn’t remember him.

“She fell in love with you once, she can do it again”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine

[mellointheory]

The problem with loving someone is the losing. The problem with knowing someone so well that their heart was yours to the very sinew, that your life was twined together by the threads of their thoughts in yours, is that once they are gone so is a part of you.

The night after Red died Ant refused to go home. Home had flowerbeds that they’d planted together and scribbles on the wall that he’d always scolded his lover for making, home had a bed for two and a table with two chairs and the leftovers of the meals Red had cooked for them.

There was no way to go back. So he sat on Red’s grave and talked to the carved headstone while the sun went down, and eventually realized that the person beneath the dirt would never hear a word he said again. That was when he first cried, and he curled on the freshly-turned dirt clutching himself like he would come apart at the seams if he didn’t, and sobbed in the dark until Bad came to find him.

Thinking was hard when there was a cliff always nearby to stumble over, a gaping hole in the center of his conscious mind that every thought brought him too close to. Standing in the shower. He’s gone. Waking up alone. He’ll never be here. Eating at a table with one less person. He’s not coming back.

Sometimes he just didn’t see the point. Sometimes he wanted to return to that grave and lie on the earth until the life faded from his body and they’d lower him down and let him rot next to the man he loved. The thought of his own death was easier to stomach than the thought of Red when he was alive.

Red. The color was everywhere. The name was everywhere. He couldn’t turn a corner without seeing something that reminded him of his love. Sam didn’t ask why Ant froze up every time he saw an orchid–his favorite flower–or a birch tree–Red hated birch–and Antfrost didn’t offer an answer.

It grew bad enough that when he got the invitation to move somewhere completely new and leave everything behind, he had to take it. It was a hard decision, weighing leaving behind everything of Red’s and everything they’d shared against not being able to stomach the sight of anything he’d once had when Red was at his side. But he took the choice and went to the Dreamlands and began to rebuild a life for himself.

The animal sanctuary was his lifeline. The animals needed him, every day, and he couldn’t leave them. Yes, he had times where he needed to lay on his tiny bed in his unfurnished shack and cry until he felt like he was coming apart. But he got up after that, wiped his face and stepped outside to tend to the animals. He couldn’t care for himself, but he could care for them.

If he cared more, maybe he’d stop following his friends into every war they sought out. Maybe he’d stop obeying everything he was told, maybe he’d stand up and walk away.

He didn’t care more. He didn’t have much to offer, so he offered himself.

The first time he saw the vines he protected them because Bad did, but there was something creeping in the corners of his skull and putting words on his tongue in a language he didn’t speak.

You need something. The voice whispered to him.

I need Him, Antfrost whispered back. Nothing else. Nothing that you can give me.

Poor thing, the Crimson said, and as it spoke its voice changed to something almost achingly familiar, just the ghost of a voice Ant hadn’t heard in so long that he feared he was forgetting it. Little acolyte, I can give you him.

And just like that, he was hooked.

The Egg gave him energy and wakefulness. Sometimes, half delirious on lack of sleep, he would stare at the red of its curve and squint his eyes until he could believe the blur was the pigment of a man’s hair and hoodie. Sometimes he would force himself to look and realize that wasn’t Red it wasn’t Red it would never be him. But sometimes the Egg would assume the voice that Ant could never say no to, so of course he would stand there and always say yes.

Chase them down. And he’d do it. Kill the child. Celebrate this death. Hunt the sheep.

And one day it asked him to decorate.

He left an empty chair for the man he still loved.

Reserved.

Ant was never good at baking cakes. It had always been Red who knew how. He tried to make one anyway. He pulled the steaming, overcooked thing from the oven and his axe shone bright in the corner of his room.

Reserved. An empty seat that would be full once. They made so many invitations, visited so many new people. Turning over a new leaf, of course. Ant wondered which of them he’d be asked to kill. He wondered if it even mattered. He’d never consider saying no.

Reserved. And the banquet hall filled up and the guests filtered in, and while everyone danced Ant stared at that seat and thought of the man who would come to fill it.

He was…happy to kill Foolish. Truly, in the depths of his heart, he was happy. Because the god’s death meant Red was one step closer to coming back and the blood on his axe meant nothing compared to that empty seat. Everything was so close, everything so perfect.

He'd known he would meet Red again that night. He didn't think it would be because he died.

#antfrost #velvetiscake #mello writes

[seita]

— reacting to your death.

includes: oikawa, iwaizumi, matsukawa, hanamaki, + kyoutani.

+ this is childhood friend!reader.

tw: major character death, grieving, blood and violence mention.

p a r t o n e ;;

⤿ part two: next (coming soon!)

-ˋˏ seijoh ˎˊ-

— tooru oikawa.

to tooru, the best course of action is to ignore it.

ignore the hurt, ignore the pain.

ignore the news completely.

in his mind, you’re just on vacation. or maybe you’re mad at him and ignoring him. you’ll come back.

he makes up scenarios and reasons in his head for why you’re not around. iwaizumi is angry, always yelling at him for being an idiot when he brings you up. but he doesn’t understand why.

he won’t talk about it. he doesn’t even acknowledge you’re gone until the funeral.

+

his hands are clasped in front of himself. the suit is uncomfortable and he doesn’t want to approach the casket. iwaizumi stands beside him, a sharp scowl plastered on his face.

“are you finally ready to face it?” he asks, keeping his voice quiet so the grieving people around them aren’t disturbed.

oikawa huffs out a laugh but it’s shaky -- watery. he’s trying so hard not to cry that it’s making his throat close up painfully. iwaizumi relaxes beside him with a sigh, his shoulders sagging before placing his hand on the taller’s shoulder.

“she wouldn’t want you to ignore it, shittykawa,” oikawa wants to laugh at his friend using that name even in the current situation.

typical iwaizumi.

always a pillar. always trying to be the strong one.

suddenly, oikawa finds himself wondering what your place in their little dynamic was. it feels like he can’t even remember you properly. it’d only been a few days since they lost you and it already feels like he’s...

“i don’t want to forget her,” oikawa suddenly chokes out, unable to stop his tears from falling finally.

“well then don’t dumbass,” iwaizumi’s voice was breaking, choked as he cried but oikawa didn’t want to look because he didn’t want to see his other friend falling apart as well.

— hajime iwaizumi.

he does not have good coping methods. his first and most immediately reaction is denial. he doesn’t want to believe what he’s hearing, so he just...doesn’t.

he assumes everyone is lying to him. there’s no way he could lose you. you’d been his friend since you were children; it’d always been you, iwa, and oikawa. so how could you possibly just be...gone?

the answer? you couldn’t.

that’s what he chose to believe, anyway.

+

“what are you talking about, shittykawa?” he snaps, refusing to pull his nose from his notes, “i think this has to be your worst joke yet.”

“it’s not a joke,” oikawa sighs, shuffling on his feet as he sniffles. if iwa chanced a look up at him, he’d see his friend had been crying for hours. but he wouldn’t look. because he didn’t want to see it, “her mom tried calling you...couldn’t get a hold of you. so i thought i’d...”

iwa slammed his notebook down, glaring straight ahead, “i told you to stop playing these stupid fucking jokes on me. it’s not funny.”

“iwa-”

“get the fuck out,” iwa jumped to his feet, grabbing the other brunette by the shirt.

the fabric creaked as it stretched. but oikawa didn’t put up a fight, letting iwaizumi toss him out of his bedroom door. he hit the floor with a thud before wincing at the deafening slam of the bedroom door.

iwaizumi sit back down, pulling up your text message. he had never answered your text asking if he would be alright studying on his own today. he had meant to answer but just forgot. his thumbs moved across the keyboard, eyes blurring with tears as he typed.

“come over. we can hang out together, okay?”

— issei matsukawa.

he was the first to admit that he wasn’t the best friend to have. he was sort of ghosty and a bit unreliable. he doesn’t mean to be. you knew that. he knew you did.

so there’s no way you would be upset with him, right? not for what he did.

he lets his own guilt eat him alive. even if everyone on earth told him it wasn’t hit fault -- he still puts every ounce of blame upon himself.

he lets it eat him alive. he thinks he deserves it.

because he let you down.

+

he stared at his phone. sometimes he could clearly see what he was looking at and other times it felt like he blacked out.

it was your text thread.

it wasn’t unusual for him to ghost you. he was never very talkative. you liked to tease him about it from time to time.

still, looking back, he could have at least responded this one time.

he doesn’t even remember what he was doing. probably nothing as important as it felt at the time.

“can you come pick me up?” it was a simple question. he hadn’t even bothered to ask where you were. if he had, he would have known you were only 10 minutes by car. it would have taken no time at all to stop what he was doing and go get you.

he wonders how long you had stared at his read receipt, wondering if he was going to come. he’ll never know.

he’ll never know the answer to why you were out so late. why you needed him to pick you up. how you felt in your last moments. he wondered if you thought of him then. if you blamed him. if you were sad or hurt by his ignoring you.

why didn’t he just go get you? why didn’t he answer you?

if he had, you would still be safe.

he wishes he could talk to you again. tell you that he was sorry. he didn’t know how important it was. he didn’t know you were scared -- that you weren’t safe.

he wanted to apologize, tell you that whatever stupid shit he was doing was nowhere near as important as you were.

he wanted to know if you had thought about him in your last moments -- the one person you had reached out to for help.

only for him to fail you.

he just wishes you knew that he didn’t mean to let you die.

— takahiro hanamaki.

it’s gotta be a joke, right?

ha-ha really funny. come out now.

when you don’t he’s confused. this really isn’t funny.

you can’t be gone. you can’t. because he needs you.

who else is going to help him during exams. or laugh at his terrible jokes. or make him feel better when he has his heart broken. what about when he’s sick? who will make him that amazing soup that always has him better in a day?

he refuses to let you go. he can’t be without you. it’s just not realistic.

so just...come out of wherever you’re hiding now, okay?

+

he tries to force the smile to remain in place as he stares at the unfamiliar faces in front of him.

“what um...what do you mean?” he laughs nervously, placing his hand to rub nervously on the back of his neck.

they repeat the news. it goes in one ear and out the other. he laughs, ignoring the confused look on their faces.

he takes a few steps back, shaking his head.

“that’s a...real funny joke. i’m just gonna...” he feels tears stinging at his eyes but he doesn’t know why. it’s obviously just a joke. he doesn’t want to be that dork who cries over a practical joke, “go call her now.”

they don’t try to call him back, pity on their faces as he slumps away, phone in hand as he dials your number. he’s pretty sure he’s far enough away when he starts crying at the sound of your voicemail.

— kentarou kyotani.

kyoutani copes violently. if there is one thing he doesn’t like, it’s change. and there’s no bigger change than losing someone you’ve known your entire life.

he didn’t have many friends -- really you were the only one he was comfortable actually giving that title. so without you, he had no one. he refused to let you go.

anger builds and builds.

and without you there to mellow him out like you usually do...it explodes.

+

there’s a fist sized dent in the wall. or maybe 4.  his knuckles are busted open and bleeding but he doesn’t feel the pain. his shoulders are heaving but even after lashing out he doesn’t feel better.

what is he supposed to do?

usually he calls you.

usually you come waltzing into his bedroom with a frown, ‘kenta, you can’t do that!’ you’d scold him. but you wouldn’t.

he knew you wouldn’t.

but that didn’t stop him from hoping.

god, he wanted you to walk in so bad. even if you didn’t knock. sometimes he would get so mad at you for that. but right now, he would give anything to hear his bedroom door fly open.

he held his fist close to his chest, squeezing his eyes closed to keep himself from crying. he never cried. he didn’t want to start now. he clenched his jaw together aimed his fist at the wall again, a large cracking noise coming from the plaster as if caved under the pressure.

then, almost as if it were out of his best dreams, the door clicked open. he whirled around with wide eyes, hope sparkling within them.

only to find the troubled face of tsukishima there instead of you.

kyoutani finally allowed himself to cry.

© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #matsukawa x reader #hanamaki x reader #kyoutani x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #issei matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #takahiro hanamaki x reader #hanamaki takahiro x reader #kyotani kentaro x reader #kentaro kyotani x reader