#listen they try their best and they do not fucking succeed
Note
A combo of 18 and 10? At some point Steve is told by Eddie's band mates that Eddie told them he doesn't actually like Steve. It's been a while but Steve still loves Eddie and wants to pretend for a night that it isn't true.
Okay, so I know you probably meant for this to be more angsty but I'm a fucking marshmallow and had to slip in the happy ending hfdjsk
Either way, I hope there's still enough angst for you!
Also, for reference, I usually call the unnamed freak Asher, so don't be surprised by the name lol
Prompts 18 and 10 from this prompt list:
10. “Let me call you mine, just for tonight.”
18. “Is hating me your only personality trait?”
You'll want to read the tags btw, I promise lol
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"You know, Eddie doesn't actually like you."
Steve blinks, his pen dragging across the page and striking ink through Will's carefully written campaign story that he'd asked Steve to review. According to him, Steve was neutral, and his lack of D&D knowledge meant he'd be able to tell Will if the story made sense even to a new player.
Unfortunately, any thoughts of Will's campaign are disintegrated by Gareth's seven words. "What?" he asks, trying to blink away the daze as he looks at the rest of Corroded Coffin across the garage. He doesn't usually step foot into their practice space, but he and Eddie had plans to hang out after practice and Jonathan had helpfully dropped him off. Now he was just waiting for Eddie to get back from the bathroom.
"Eddie," Jeff says, "he doesn't like you. He told us."
"He won't fucking shut up about it, actually," Asher says, a grin tugging at his lips, and Steve thinks it looks particularly cruel.
In fact, their words so far have held an undertone of anticipation, like they were waiting for Steve's reaction. As cliche as it sounds, their grins feel like knives stabbing into him. It's not just his heart, it's Steve's entire body, like every inch of his being had only existed on the premise that Eddie Munson liked him at least a little bit. Not even romantically (Steve isn't that deluded), but as a friend.
"He...," Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, trying to keep his voice from breaking. Apparently, he doesn't do well, since Jeff's grin widens and Gareth's eyes light up, and Asher opens his mouth like he's ready to hammer the final nail in Steve's coffin.
Whatever they plan to say next is interrupted by Eddie finally returning and grinning at Steve. "Ready to go, Stevie?" he asks.
Suddenly the grin is mean, the nickname cruelly teasing, and Steve wonders how he went so long deluding himself that Eddie liked him. It hurts even more with his bandmates' words still playing in his head and their grins hidden behind Eddie's back like they're proud of breaking Steve's delusion.
"Uh, yeah, ready," Steve says, forcing his voice to sound normal as he closes Will's campaign notebook and follows Eddie to his van.
By the time they end the night at the Munson trailer, Steve feels frayed at the edges and three seconds from tearing in two. The entire evening, all he could think about was how much Eddie seemed to be covering his own dislike and how it bled through anyway. Every smile was sharp, every casual touch seemed hesitant and quick to end like Eddie couldn't pull away fast enough, and every glance seemed to pierce Steve with dislike and reinforce the shattering of his delusion.
At least the weed Eddie gave him when they got to his room is helping a little. It's filling his lungs with something other than hurt, clouding his mind with something other than doubt. It even stops the questions and stops him from wondering what he could have possibly done to make Eddie play some kind of long-con instead of just saying he didn't like Steve.
"Heeelloooo," Eddie says, waving his hand in front of Steve's face. "Anything going on in there, big boy?"
Steve blinks, his chest tightening as he looks up at Eddie. They're on the bed, with Eddie sitting next to him while Steve reclines against the pillows, his usual position that lets him stare at the ceiling. That mean grin is back, and Steve once again wonders how he ever mistook it for anything else. The words, too. How did he ever mistake those words for playful teasing?
And maybe it's the weed, but Steve can't stop himself from sitting up and asking, "Is hating me your only personality trait when we're together?" It's not even relevant. Steve knows that. He knows that Eddie hasn't done anything overtly hateful, but he can't help asking.
Eddie's grin falters. "Woah, woah, what are you talking about?"
"Why do you even hang out with me if you hate me so much?" Steve asks, steamrolling over whatever Eddie wanted to say by grabbing him by the shoulders. "Why don't you just tell me to fuck off? Why do you hang out with someone you don't even like? Is it funny to you? Do you enjoy tricking me?"
His voice is cracking by the end, and Eddie's eyes are wide, undoubtedly surprised that he's been caught in the act. And this time it's definitely the weed clouding Steve's mind and making him act on impulse because he can't be bothered to think as he grabs the collar of Eddie's jacket and pulls him closer. "You can punch me later, or run me over with your van if you hate me that much. But...but right now, just let me pretend I can call you mine, just for tonight."
Before Eddie can respond, before he can tell Steve to fuck off and kick him out of the trailer, Steve kisses him. Their teeth clack together painfully, and Steve is sure his lip has started bleeding, but he doesn't care. He's more focused on keeping his eyes squeezed shut, forcing his brain to delude him into thinking this is a happier kiss, that his eyes aren't stinging and two seconds from making the kiss salty.
They stay in an admittedly uncomfortable position for a few seconds before Eddie grabs Steve's waist and pushes him down against the pillows. Steve's surprised grunt is muffled by Eddie pushing his tongue past his lips, and he only has a brief moment to be relieved that Eddie is playing along when he suddenly pinches Steve's side and breaks the kiss.
Steve winces and opens his eyes, his body tensing when he sees Eddie staring down at him. The only thing he can hear is his own panting and the sirens screaming in his brain that he's truly, irrevocably fucked everything up.
"So," Eddie says, his voice surprisingly soft for someone about to rip Steve's heart out, "where'd you get the idea that I hate you?"
Steve shuts his mouth, biting his tongue as he looks away. That doesn't help much, though, since Eddie's hair has fallen around him in a wavy curtain that obscures his view of anything else. A few moments pass before Steve shifts uncomfortably and replies, "Your friends told me."
Eddie hums softly, holding himself steady with one arm on the pillow by Steve's head while the other tugs on a lock of Steve's hair. And it's only now that Steve realizes he's fucking surrounded, pressed into Eddie's mattress by Eddie's body with Eddie's hair cutting him off from the rest of the room. "And what, exactly, did they say, Stevie?" Eddie asks, his tone sharp and dancing like this entire situation is funny to him.
It's enough to distract Steve, leading his brain to lag behind as he tries desperately to remember what Gareth, Jeff, and Asher said. "You don't actually like me. You told them yourself. You won't shut up about not liking me," Steve finally says.
Something like recognition really sparks in Eddie's eyes, and his grin falls slightly. He looks ready to speak, but then he thinks better of it. His smile comes back, nearly full force, and he says, "They're right. I don't like you."
Oh. Steve acutely feels the breath get stolen out of his lungs, the way they ache as his heart sears with the pain of being ripped from his chest. His eyes are stinging even worse, and his nose feels astringent like he just walked into a bathroom with bleach spilled across the floor.
"I love you."
Steve blinks. "What?"
"I love you."
Yeah, it still doesn't make sense. "...are you sure?"
Eddie bursts out laughing, finally letting all his weight fall onto Steve so he can bury his face in Steve's shoulder. Steve is still blindsided, trying to get his brain and heart to get on the same page.
"Yes, I'm serious," Eddie says, raising his head to look at Steve. "I can guarantee they were fucking with you. If I hadn't come back, those fuckers would've revealed my massive crush on you."
"Massive," Steve mumbles, cursing the weed for inhibiting his ability to think properly.
Eddie's grin gets even wider, his eyes lighting up in a way that tells Steve he's about to roll his eyes at a dumb joke. "Yeah, almost as massive as I am," Eddie says, playfully grinding his hips down on Steve like their jeans aren't in the way.
Steve was right. He does roll his eyes. And it helps him shake some of the daze, allows him to pull himself out of the fog of doubt and spiraling thoughts. "Fuck off," he says, placing a hand on Eddie's face and pushing him away.
"Well, if you insist," Eddie says playfully, exaggerating movements of getting up only for Steve to grab his arm and pull him back. "You're really giving me mixed signals here, sweetheart."
"You really love me?" Steve asks, ignoring Eddie's joke.
"Of course, Stevie. What's not to love?"
And there's such genuine emotion in Eddie's voice that Steve represses the urge to ask if he wants the list in chronological or alphabetical order. "Okay, then you can't be angry when I fucking murder your friends."
Eddie laughs and pushes his head into Steve's neck like a cat, playfully biting his throat. "I'll help you."
"Are we moving too fast by plotting murder for our first date?"
"We went through an Eldritch nightmare together, sweetheart."
Steve concedes to that point, reaching up and idly running his fingers through Eddie's hair. They occasionally snag on a few tangles, and Steve resists the urge to get a hairbrush. "Right," he says, a smile tugging at his lips, "then we should plan a romantic murder date."
And Steve feels Eddie's smile on his skin, tries to commit the sensation to memory, and feels immeasurable relief at the fact that it won't be the last time Eddie smiles against him like this.
#steddie#steddie fic#steddie angst#steddie fluff#steve harrington#eddie munson#corroded coffim#listen they try their best and they do not fucking succeed#it was meant to be a joke that got steddie together but eddie ruined it by coming back to soon according to them#they don't get murdered by eddie gets revenge by being even more annoying about steve#and steve holds it against them for the rest of their fucking lives like “hey remember that time you convinced me eddie hated my guts :) ”#my writing#prompt list
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#okAy so i'm not going to finish writing it i lack the skill n talent but i Must get this out there it's haunting me#i know rpf freaks some ppl out in which case why are u following me i literally made this blog bc i wrote so much goddamn rpf#but anyways. fair warning in advance. n i will delete this once i stop being insane blah blah blah#but god. just obsessed with piarlesteban ideas rn. with charles watching all the alpine stuff we're seeing trickling out now and like#the bittersweet feeling that comes with watching someone you love succeed at the cost of them potentially moving on without you#at least when pierre and esteban weren't talking it wasn't a constant reminder that Technically he's not pierre's oldest friend on the grid#that while he Technically thinks he knows pierre best. he wasnt one of those kids from normandy#is it jealousy? is it fear? is it something else?#after all if he called pierre 'pierrot' on main and started posting tiktoks with how important their friendship is#it would be smth f1 reposts and takes everywhere and makes a situation out of. but esteban can do it naturally.#him not wanting pierre and esteban to fall out again because truly he Does love them both albeit in very different ways because they *did*#all grow up together. but then if they do. he doesn't have to worry about if pierre starts to hesitate more when he's asked who he's#closest to. who his best friend is. doesn't have to worry#plus. plus plus. add in the context of it mirroring /pierre/ feeling like he got left behind while charles#blazed trails in his top team and pierre went back to his junior team who try as they might could never give him that wdc#sorry ive just been listening to smile like you mean it on repeat. and like#and someone is playing a game in the house i grew up in. and someone will drive her around on the same streets that i did#i CAN and i WILL make this about them#esp because im already deep in copium#YO the fact i can edit tags now. fucking SEXY!
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YOUR RE-SET
So your life isn’t looking and feeling how you envisioned. You see the TikTok and IG girlies living that life. You dream about luxury travel, pilates on a Saturday morning, drinking overpriced green smoothies, driving a sexy car, and living your fullest most authentic life…But in comparison, you’ve grown to mostly hate spending time with your friends, you’ve out grown them and notice how much they complain about life and generally are low vibes, you’ve spent all of this months wages already, and still have 2 weeks left until payday so your bank balance is no way supporting the life you dream of, to add, your dating life is a mess not consisting of your dream guy that provides for you. No, instead it seems too much effort for him to message back, let alone take you to that sexy spa you’re dying to visit. So in short your life is a far cry from what you want. The life you’ve created right now is absolutely not what you would want for yourself for the next year, or even five years. So in order to completely shift from where you are to where you want to be. You need a fucking RE-SET.
The re-set is basically your metamorphosis. Think of being the caterpillar, heavy, slow sluggish (currently you right now). In order to become a beautiful butterfly you need to completely transform, undo, take time to reorganise so you can re-emerge as nature intended.
The Re-set might look slightly different for everyone so take what you need from this:
2-3 months stepping back from the people around you.
THE CORE ESSENTIALS FOR YOUR RESET - A DAILY PRACTISE
Meditating daily to clear you mind so you can hear yourself, your own voice and drown out any external noise. (I recommend insight timer app, or mind app both for meditations)
A journal, to document your feelings and emotions, empty your thoughts, and a space where you can become your own best friend and create a connection with yourself.
Movement. - you need to move your body this is KEY, you might pick up running, stretching at home, pilates, yoga, HIT, whatever it is just fucking do it. Your body needs the movement to replenish its energy and move you out of stagnation.
Healthy diet. Less alcohol more greens. If it’s processed, if its fizzy, if its sugar, if its cake, if its chocolate, if its ice cream (you get the picture), cut that shit OUT. You need food that supports you, cleanses you, energises you in order to thrive and clear your energy.
FAITH in something bigger than yourself. If you’re religious, great lean into your faith with prayer, scripture, faith music. If you’re not religious maybe you believe in the universe, the love all around you, faith in something unknown, something guiding you, protecting you, even if you believe this is part of your own psyche - lean into this. Your faith is your support system. Your faith is the unseen that will guide and protect you on this journey.
The above might seem overwhelming, and it will be if you don’t already incorporate those things into your day already. The worst thing you want to do is try and do everything at once and feel disappointed when you don’t succeed. So start with one thing if that’s all you can manage and focus on doing that one thing consistently and then add from that.
The purpose of the first 2-3 months is the cleansing. You want to start slowly removing what doesn’t serve you, and start creating space for yourself, your thoughts and visions so you have space to start planting new seeds of the life you want to live.
What your first steps in your journey might look like:
Saying no to going out for drinks with friends, instead you go for a long walks in nature listening to an empowering podcast, go home journal and meditate.
Weekends might look like not seeing friends, maybe even family. Doing exercise, making healthy food, researching recipes, creating a vision board on Pinterest and doing a guiding meditation, affirmations and mirror work.
Having a prayer practise, reading books/ passages that support you in your journey
Deleting your social medias or even doing a detox day / weekend so you have a break
PART 2 - COMING NEXT….(Here)
#levelup#lawofattraction#levelupjourney#manifestyourreality#levelup confidence lawofattraction powerofthemind#growthmindset#manifest#manifestingmindset#manifesting
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Understand (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)
Pairing: Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Wife!Reader
Description: Y/n has been using the exterminations as a way to try and search for the soul of her earthly husband for years. What happens when she actually succeeds in finding him?
Warnings: Cannon typical violence and angst. Also uh,, not healthy. (The end is kinda fucked up)
Word Count: 2,411
Master Lists:
Master Lists
Hazbin Hotel Master List
Y/n slid the dark mask over her face, jiggling it slightly to make sure it had clicked properly into place. She had never wanted to be an exorcist, hated the very thought. When she had been alive, she was the type of human who felt bad about accidentally stepping on bugs. If she had had any other choice, she would’ve taken it but she didn’t and so Y/n tried her best to detach herself from the experience.
Exorcists were a handpicked group by Adam. If you weren’t one, you didn’t know about them and if you knew about them, you were fucked. Y/n’s entire existence in the peaceful afterlife had been turned on its head when she’d been chosen. Pulled out of normal day to day and pushed into harsh, year round training. There was nothing nice about it and nothing she could do. No one listened to a thing she said, not even Sera. Sometimes, Y/n caught herself wishing she’d just been sent to Hell instead.
There was, however, one small benefit to these yearly trips. While it was a pain to act like she was being more violent than she was on the field, a constant terror in her life that Adam and Lute would find out she’d been letting demons go, it also gave her the opportunity to search.
Y/n had been married in life. Her husband had been a criminal, one of the worst, something she hadn’t learned until after his death. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from loving him. Every day on earth she’d lived without him by her side had been abysmal. No other love was quite like his love.
When she had first arrived in Heaven, Y/n had searched everywhere for him. There had been no luck. It had been a foolish hope, she knew: looking for a serial killer among the blessed but, she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to hear him explain, wanted to understand. Most of all, though she tried not to think about this part, she wanted to give him a kiss. To throw her arms around his neck with abandon the way she did when they were young. She wanted to hear his voice, have him tell her he still loved her too and mean it. She wanted to know she hadn’t wasted her life, her one chance at a living love.
The gates opened and Y/n dove through with the hundreds of other exorcists. Their game was underfoot, their cat and mouse sadistic chase. For Y/n? The search was on.
----
Alastor watched as the exorcist descended upon him. He was feeling brave and stupid, empowered after his near win against Vox just a few weeks before. Cracking his knuckles, he wondered what the exorcist’s voice would sound like if added to his broadcast.
A wicked grin on his face, she hovered before him. Her wings flapped with great strength, sending gusts of wind Alastor’s way as she kept herself vertically in the air. Alastor simply looked down, pointedly away from the exorcist, and straightened his lapel with his hand that wasn’t holding his microphone. He was trying to make her angry. As she inched closer to him, Alastor assumed it had worked.
“Don’t see many of your lot around these parts this time of year.” he mused, checking his nail beds, “What can I help you with?”
There was a silence. Alastor looked up towards the angel, confused. Normally a blasé statement like that would have gotten a rise out of anyone intent on killing him. Instead, the lights of her eyes on the mask just stared at him. Slowly, she lowered herself to the ground.
“Say that again.”
Her voice came out muffled and harsh through the mask, clearly altered by some equipment within. He laughed, taking a menacing step forward. Leaning down condescendingly, he conceded to her demand.
“How may I be of use?”
The exorcist was silent again. After a moment, Alastor shrugged. He straightened himself up again, his hands on top of his microphone as if it were a cane. He summoned his shadows.
“Well you’re certainly making this easy.”
His horns began to grow, throwing strange and menacing shadows across the walls of the ally way. Still, the angel stood there.
“It… it can’t be.” she mumbled under her breath.
Alastor raised his eyebrows.
“Can’t be who, darling?” he asked, feigning innocence, “The Radio Demon can’t be such a big name you folks up in Heaven hear my shows, can it?”
Alastor let out a laugh, taking a step forward as the exorcist tentatively took a step back.
“Oh who am I kidding, of course it is!” he exclaimed.
The exorcist took another step back as Alastor threw his microphone into the air, catching the center of its stand neatly in his outstretched hand. Her back hit the shadows he had put up to block the ally way and she frantically turned her head to the side, checking what it was she’d run into.
Alastor tsked her, walking up so they were just a few feet apart. Harshly, he used his microphone to turn his face to hers again.
“Don’t look away from me, dear. I might get jealous.”
“Were you married?” the exorcist asked suddenly.
Alastor froze in his tracks, his brow furrowed the slightest bit.
“Sorry if that’s weird.” she stuttered out, rubbing her arm holding the spear uncomfortably, “I just, well, I’ve been looking for my husband? He died in the early 1930s and well, he sounded a lot like you.”
Alastor’s heart dropped, crashing into his diaphragm. The angel watched him nervously as he removed his microphone from the side of her head. She let out a breath she’d been holding, something that was quickly taken in again as he used the end of his microphone to life her mask from her face.
It clattered harshly against the concrete as it fell from her face. Alastor’s eyes went wide. There was no doubt about it. Sure, she had a soft ethereal glow about her now, but hadn’t she always in a way? Sure, her hair was cropped around her ears and she was in armor. It didn’t matter, in an instant he knew. The shadows fell from around them, his horns shrunk back to their normal size.
“Y/n?”
“Alastor?” she asked back, just as breathless.
Slowly, she reached a hand out to his face and cupped his cheek. He leaned into it on instinct. Y/n’s spear clattered to the floor, her other hand finding his other cheek as she looked up at him in simple amazement.
“You…” gingerly, Alastor reached his free hand up, laying it on top of one of Y/n’s, “Of course you’ve been in Heaven this whole time. You were always so good, much too good for me.”
“Oh hush, Alastor.” Y/n scolded lightly, her eyes filling with tears, “You know I don’t like it when you put yourself down like that.”
“No, Y/n.” he let his microphone disappear, taking both her hands off his face and holding them intently in his own, “You don’t understand. I did terrible things when I was alive, I still do them now. There is a reason I am down here.”
“I know.” she responded almost immediately.
“No, y-”
“I don’t mean to interrupt but Al, I do know.” Y/n cut him off, “You were killed hurrying a body hun, hard not to. Plus, when the police searched the house they told me what they’d, um, found in the basement freezer.”
Y/n chose her words carefully, her eyes averted. When she looked back at Alastor, he was still smiling yes but, there was something confused about him too. They had grown up together. She had always known exactly what was going on in that head of his. Well, most of the time anyways.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
“You have?” Alastor asked, “After everything, after… God, how long did I leave you up there alone?”
“About thirty years.” Y/n shrugged.
There was a moment of silence. A question tugged at Alastor’s tongue, one he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer to. Still, time was running out. The screams of demons being attacked were becoming more and more infrequent. He didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance.
“Did your new husband make it up to heaven with you?”
Y/n’s eyes went wide.
“New husba- Alastor, I never remarried.”
“Why not? You deserved to be treated well, Y/n. To have had a good life. Why waste it all on me?”
“I loved you. I still do.”
Y/n knew it was a bad idea, knew the risks if any other exorcist in the area heard her. Still, she couldn’t help but feel it would be worth it to die, knowing she’d found Alastor and that he knew she still loved him.
“You find anyone down here yourself?” Y/n asked awkwardly after a moment, looking around the ally.
Alastor took a step forward, closing what little space had been left between them. Like he had done it a thousand times before, because he had done it a thousand times before, he raised a hand to Y/n’s cheek and turned her face to his. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted, she stared up at him.
“No one.” Alastor shook his head, “There’s no one but you.”
A horn sounded from a ways away and Y/n turned up to the sky. Waves of exorcists were flying over head, going back to the portal, back to heaven. Y/n took a step back, Alastor’s hand falling from her cheek.
“Al, I have to go.”
“Please, Y/n. Stay with me here. I can’t get to you up there, I don’t want to lose you again.”
“I have to go, Al. I don’t want to cause any more trouble for you and everyone else down here.” she insisted, turning to where her mask lay on the ground, “I’ll be back in twelve months, I promise.”
As Y/n leaned over to grab her called disguise, her wings splayed out behind her. Light hit the tip of her spear just right in that moment, catching Alastor’s eye. A wicked idea filtered into his mind. Something he never could have done, would have ever even imagined when he’d been alive. But now? Hell had hardened him, taught Alastor sometimes you had to be cruel to get what you want and not just when it came to killing creeps. He had tried life without Y/n before, tried nearly sixty years of it. Alastor didn’t like it one bit.
“We will get to see one another then,” Y/n was saying as her trembling fingers fumbled for the edge of her mask in the dim light, “and I promise I’ll find a way we can end up together for good, I really d-”
A searing pain shot through her, causing her words to catch in her throat. It was worse than anything Y/n had ever felt before, emanating from the center of her back. Panting in pain, she reached a hand behind her back. It came away wet with sticky, golden blood. Her vision blurring, Y/n looked up at Alastor. Clutched in his right fist was the head of her spear. From the other hand, he dropped her left wing to the floor.
“Alastor…” she panted, her breath weak, “what…”
He took a step forward and an arrow of fright shot through Y/n. She tried to take one back but the pain was starting to really get to her now and she stumbled, falling to the ground. Alastor stood over her, smiling menacingly down as she scooted back from him. Y/n was full on hyperventilating now.”
“Al, what are you doing? What… how… I don’t understand.”
Alastor hushed her gently, the way he used to when they were little kids and he found her crying. Tears began to drip from Y/n’s eyes and she jolted violently with fear as his clawed hand grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to twist around and giving him access to her other wing. He grabbed it, pulling it out to its fullest extent.
“Alastor please.” Y/n begged, tears rolling hotly down her face, “Please don’t. Please.”
“My, these sure are pretty.” Alastor hummed, admiring the weft of the feathers as he held Y/n’s remaining wing.
“Why would you do this!?” Y/n screamed, her voice echoing in the empty ally.
Alastor fell to his knees behind her, still holding her wing out, still immobilizing her in pain.
“I’ve already lost you once.” he said softly, leaning into Y/n’s ear. She whimpered, trying to scoot away from him but unable to due to the hold he had on her appendage, “I won’t do it again. If Satan, or God, or the fucking universe think they can keep us apart, then not a single goddamn one of them has been paying attention because you are mine. You are mine and there is nothing that I wouldn’t do to keep things that way.”
As the final words left Alastor’s lips, he cut through Y/n’s remaining wing in a single motion. She let out an earsplitting scream before passing out in a steadily growing puddle of her own golden blood.
“There, there my love.” Alastor hummed gently, dropping the spear to the ground and smoothing her her wild hair down around her face as he pulled himself to his feet.
Straightening his jacket, Alastor leaned down and picked her limp body up off the sidewalk. The injuries were bad, but nothing he couldn’t help her handle.
“I just can’t explain to you how happy I am to have you back in my arms.” he said to Y/n’s sleeping form, looking down at her tired and tearstained face with nothing short of adoration, “You might be mad for a while, but I can handle that. At the end of the day, we will both know that you’re not going anywhere.”
Leaning down, he planted a soft kiss on Y/n’s forehead. For a moment, his smile went hollow. He hadn’t meant to go this far, to hurt her this bad. Alastor had just been so scared, so utterly terrified at the prospect of losing her again.
“She will understand.” he reassured himself, “She has to understand.”
——
Part Two → Caged Bird (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)
#x reader#fic writer#x reader one shot#x reader fics#x reader writer#alastor#alastor the radio demon#alastor x reader#fanfic#fanfic writer#alastor fanfic#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x you#alastor fanfiction#hazbin alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#the radio demon#radio demon#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin#hazbin hotel
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choose a fantastic green thing (tarot reading)
"what do you need to know?"
image 1: ahh, a classic. woman with fish. iridescent fish, no less.
image 2: women want him, men want to be him. whether you love him or hate him, you can't deny... he is a bug.
image 3: the bowl.
image source
not everything may resonate with you, and that's ok! take what does & leave the rest. don't force it.
1.・。.・゜✭
hello friends. what a nice pull! you may be giving or receiving a gift as an act of charity or kindness. it seems like you’re unaware of something, but it’s not a bad thing. consider it blissful ignorance. it may be wise to stay in this state, shunning negativity/corruption. also, some of you may be dealing with children/ a child? maybe someone is having a baby?!
nevertheless, you’re trusting your intuition at this time, and it’s serving you. however, you may be a bit apprehensive about a change/transition you’re going through. know that it’ll happen no matter what you do! you’ll have to eliminate excess one way or another, cutting down to the bare essentials. it’s scary to go through change where you’re unsure what will happen, but you’ve got to do it at some point.
and anyway, you’ve got your intuition at your side. tune in with yourself however you know best, whether that be taking a walk outside, listening to your favorite song, etc, it will help you to regroup.
being sympathetic and loving towards others will also work in your favor. try to open up, and give others what you would like to receive yourself. “forgiving and forgetting” may also be relevant for some of you.
(6 of cups, death reversed, ace of cups)
2.・。.・゜✭
holy FUCK, you need to pump the brakes. holy FUCK, whatever it is, SLOW THE HELL DOWN!!! four of swords literally came flying out of the deck before i even got the chance to shuffle. take this as the universe/your future self urging you, begging you, pleading on hands and knees, to CHILL OUT!
yes, we all know you are very determined and forthright. yes, we all know it, and we all know that has turned out very well for you in other situations. however. at this point, you’re gambling whether things will go your way, and you can tell. loosen your grip on those reigns! resting ain’t so bad!! not every moment needs to be jam packed with activities.
i feel like you know that, but you don’t want to accept that it’s true, or can’t. despite this, you’re feeling the effects. the 10 of swords spells exhaustion & burn out– finding yourself depleted, full of swords, and on the ground (in vain); all the while, the call for action has not even arrived yet.
consider yourself. if you need to have a goal, think of it this way: how can you most effectively relax? what activities (or lackthereof) will make you feel the most refreshed when the time comes to get moving again? in a sense, take all the anxious energy you’re feeling, and put it to use by taking care of yourself. you’re not going to be able to succeed in the way you want to if you’re completely exhausted from ignoring your own needs.
so relax! if you’re not sure how, beg the universe for help. that’s what i did, and now, i have a cat.
(the chariot reversed, 4 of swords, knight of swords, 2 of wands, 10 of wands)
3.・。.・゜✭
your cards strike me as very sweet, my bowl lovers… after going through a trauma in your past, you’re working towards healing by opening up to those around you. now is a great time to be intimate, and not just in the romance way! maybe you’re interested in moving forwards with this, but you aren’t sure which path (which person/people, perhaps) to take. not to fear, however!! page of cups is here! let your heart/intuition lead you, and don’t be afraid to have some fun with it.
consider your emotions exactly as they are: does this person make you feel happy? secure? take your knee jerk reactions and mix them with your observations. after that, the choice should be clear.
six of swords is not always the most fun of cards (typically denoting healing, sloughing through the slop, ect) but trust that where you’re going certainly is… a blast, that is!! it may be a celebration you’re heading towards, but more than anything, it seems like you’ll gain a new sense of freedom. with the page of cups and six of swords present, this is likely how you approach your feelings & relationships, and how they’ve been impacted by your past. expect to shed some light on these patterns, and even overcome them entirely!*
these last two cards cement this message. if you go after what you want, you’re certain to meet success! it can be scary, and it might take a while, but keep trying! you can do this!!!
*for the time being, anyway. progress is not linear! sometimes it's 2 steps forwards to go 1 step back and that's ok!!!
(4 of wands reversed, page of cups, 6 of swords, 7 of cups reversed)
(pulled later: 6 of wands reversed, page of pentacles)
Ws all around my friends
#tarot#tarotblr#tarot reading#tarotcommunity#tarot cards#pick a card#pick a picture#pick a pile#pac#spirituality#witchblr#spiritual#witchcraft#witch community#pick an image
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guys, i think i just realised something!!!
few months ago, i read @gorgeouslypink blog about the wim hof method, so i tried it in the middle of night few times. In the beginning, whenever i did it it relaxed my body a ot. Then one day, i tried it again in the middle of the night.
Once i woke up, i immediately put on my earphones and started with the breathing work. I used to think that when we wake up we have little to no thoughts...wrong.
While i was doing the wim hof method, a lot of thoughts started popping in my head. I kept following them, trying to focus in the breathing work too, but it reached one point where i was so immersed in my thoughts, that i suddenly felt like floating. I was shocked!! I became aware of my body and the floating sensation disappeared, i was so fucking shocked!! The first time in MONTHS where i had a floating feeling. I was so so so happy, and i kept thinking ''omg i got it already'' ''i'm manifesting my dream life this time'' ''i'm so happy''
The next day i tried to follow exactly the same: wake up in the middle of the night, put on the breathing work immediately and focus in it.
Guess what?? i didn't get the floating feeling. I was confused, i thought i did exactly the same thing so i didn't understand, I was disappointed.
Months later @luckykiwiii101 appeared in tumblr talking about the distraction method, making people succeed. Now, thanks to her, i realized it. The reason i got the floating method wasn't because of the wim hof (still i recommend it because it relaxes ur body), it was because i was SO focused in my random thoughts that i forgot about my body. And when i started becoming aware of my body, the floating feeling disappeared.
So please please, everyone try it. You DON'T NEED a void concept, NO mental diet (it can help with self-concept though if u like it but no need), NO need of listening to subs 8 hours overnight, NO need of ANYTHING, just shift the awareness of ur body and 3d, focus on ur thoughts/scenes!!
I will be trying it again this night, alongside with listening to subliminals and report my success (yeah, I claim it). TYSM @luckykiwiii101 , I wish you the best and only the best in life <33
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Some of my best moments of healing came when I started to understand some of these snippets of wisdom from others:
People can only perceive what they know.
Comprehension is also a part of communication. If they can't comprehend what you're saying then there is no point in wearing yourself out.
There is a big difference in "listening to respond" vs "listening to be right" and most people do not understand this.
Most people on social media aren't looking to have healthy communication. They're looking to argue. Find other places for conversation outside of the comments section.
People cannot tell you how you're feeling. That is information only you have access to. They are projecting themselves onto you.
People often hide behind projection when theyre hurt. Don't take things personally.
Emotionally immature people cannot understand the difference between communicating vs reacting.
What's the difference?
Communicating = listening with intent to understand
Reacting = allowing the perceived threat to dominate the mood
Triggers can also show us parts of ourselves that are unhealed and in need of attention. Though it is never okay to force yourself to "work through them" if you do not relate.
"There is always more work to do" = this is a lifelong process. Don't try to rush it so hard.
Breaks are allowed and actually necessary in order to catch up.
"Trust in yourself & trust in the process" = you know what's best for you. Nobody else should be telling you how to live your life.
"Do something else" = your sanity is in danger if you don't learn how to step away from the stress. Don't ignore your mind & body asking for a break.
"Life is not a game" = take yourself and your health seriously.
It's normal to seek chaos while recovering. Sometimes we are hard wired for chaos due to the nature of our traumas. Healing can leave you feeling "boring" and that's normal.
Recovery can also be reflected in our outward appearances. "As I grew inward, my outward appearance changed too." The changes we make inside can have a very deep impact on the way we take care of ourselves and the way we project that outwardly through our appearance. Sometimes negatively, sometimes positively. It can fluctuate and change just like we do.
You're not alone. I guarantee you, whatever it is you're going through- there's a community out there for it.
Sometimes you will never know how to move forward. These are the moments that require the most kindness and compassion you can find.
There is such a huge awkward transitionary phase between "I'm stuck repeating old habits" vs "oh okay, I've learned enough to move on now, but I don't want to give up my old identity and now I'm even more panicked than I've ever been in my entire life what the fuck is happening please help me" and this is so fucking normal.
When that happens, just be as kind and patient as you can be. The old parts are in need of patience. They are clinging for a reason. Maybe the closure long forgotten? Maybe the underlying issues finally able to be spoken out loud and addressed? Give them the safety of knowing they are safe, well loved, and that you're still gonna be you in all that you are when they're ready to put those burdens down.
Change doesn't look good at first. At first it feels like ripping your skin off. There's a subtle power in allowing it to feel uncomfortable and doing it anyway. You can tap that power just by waking up and staying committed.
"You're stronger than you think, give yourself some kudos, you're worth the effort to heal." These are all words that others have said to me. Take the positive words that ppl give you and use them to your advantage. They're actually not bullshitting you. They actually really do want you to succeed. Draw on them to get you there.
In the same vein, ask trusted ppl what they think your strong points are. I've had ppl tell me "you're resourceful. You're strong in how you advocate for yourself." It can help to hear these types of things. It's okay to ask!
#recovery#ptsd#trauma#mental health#boundaries#healing#healing thoughts#recovery positivity#advice#life advice#growth#self awareness#projection#self esteem#self improvement#shadow work#self care#communication#communicating#relationships#interpersonal relationships
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I bring you Hellfire fairy
Eddie x crybaby!fairy!reader is back again
Part one, part two, part three, part four
“You ready to head out baby?” Eddie asked as he finished packing his bag.
You flashed him a nervous smile and nodded.
“Now remember, you’re in charge” Eddie reminded, “and I’ll be there with you the entire time.”
That promise made the anxiety in the pit of your stomach melt a bit.
Eddie had decided to bring you along to hellfire this week, and there was a pleather of reasons to why…
1. You usually threw tantrums at the mention of him leaving, even though you always knew he’d come right back.
2. Eddie missed you just as much.
3. Dustin had practically begged him for weeks.
So it was settled, Eddie headed off to hellfire with you on his shoulder, hidden in his hair.
Eddie set up the table and the DM screen, then he instructed you to hide behind it.
It was supposed to be a prank on the rest of the hellfire members, which was something that got your attention. Pulling pranks was your forte and this one was going to be huge.
You were safely out of view when the rest of them arrived.
Eddie smirked down at you when he took his place on the throne.
Eddie cleared his throat to catch everyones attention, but unfortunately it did nothing to get the chatter to quiet down.
He tried to call out for them a few times, but nothing was breaking through their loud voices.
So Eddie resorted to what he usually did with the group. He slammed his fist onto the table.
The impact not only scared you but it made you almost lose your balance.
Eddie was quick to stabilise you with his hand, and when you were sat on the table he gave you forgiving headpats with his pointer finger.
“Now fellas, lady applejack, are we ready to get this adventure started or are we just chitchatting today?”
It really wasn’t a question.
More of a unique way to tell them all to shut the fuck up. Which they all did not long after.
Eddie smirked knowingly and began the adventure of the week.
You listened intensely, not only because his storytelling was mesmerising but also because you were waiting for your que.
“In the mist forest before you, you seem a shimmering, floating ball of light” Eddie said and you began to flutter your wings, getting ready for your reveal. “When it approaches you closer you see what it really is.”
You made your way over the edge of the DM screen, facing the players.
“A fairy”
There was a collective gasp coming from the group around the table.
You could see Dustin sporting a huge grin on his face, which made you slightly more confident.
You felt the heat in your cheeks as you saw all the eyes on you.
One of the boys whispered a “what the fuck?” at the closer look at you, but he was quickly corrected by Eddie.
“If you want to remain alive by the end of this adventure I suggest you shut it Wheeler”
You put out your tongue in his general direction to help Eddie get his point across.
“This glorious little one will help you on your journey today my friends” Eddie continued. “Don’t be fooled by the size, she’s feisty.”
A mischievous grin spread on your face as you heard Eddie’s words.
“This is cool” you heard one of them mumble under their breath as Eddie got ready to continue.
Dustin flashed you a knowing smile, nonverbal telling you “I told you, you’d be a hit”.
The game continued and you found yourself warming up to the members of hellfire. You floated around the table (to not risk being hit by any thrown dice.) and was welcomed by everyone so you came up to.
Then came the best part of it all.
Whenever they won a battle and a figurine was supposed to be removed from the table you got to do the honours, which more or less ended in you trying to figure out different ways to drop kick them of the table.
When you succeed with your job you got cheers and applauds from everyone round the table, which hade you shining with pride, bathing in the attention.
You thought about the first time you had seen a figurine on Eddie’s desk in the trailer, it had scared you senselessly. It was almost as big as you and looked monster like so of course you got scared. Eddie had explained that they weren’t real and had taught you how to “fight” them, much like you had tonight. But you had to admit, it was even more fun with an audience.
When the game ended you were understandably tired and got to hitch a ride home in the front pocket of Eddie’s dio vest.
The last thing you heard before you fell asleep was Eddie mumbling,
“You did good today baby, so very good”
#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson x fairy!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie x reader#fairy!reader#crybaby!reader
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heyy first of all its me the fucked up dream anon (now going by dream anon how original) second of all ive decided im going to learn about south park purely through your work so can i get some tweek (ive latched onto that boy) and whoever else you want (probably the main boys) with a reader (all platonic ofc) who's got that #anxiety? thanks even if you dont do it <33
🌌🌟/dream anon
main 4 + tweek with a reader who has anxiety; platonic headcanons
A/N: haii :3 i apologize if this like, distorts your vision of the characters or something. i am so glad you are being converted to the religion of tweek!!!!!!
TRIGGER WARNING: anxiety disorders, light mental health topics, paranoia, panic/anxiety attacks, death mention on kennys part
stan marsh
i think stan has a normal amount of anxiety. like he's so regular. he's your average joe
like he gets anxious over tests, and giving speeches, and over wendy. other than that he doesn't experience it to the extent of a disorder
so it might be a little difficult for him to imagine getting anxious over simple things like ordering food and stuff like that
he'll try his best to listen though, although he'll probably try to kinda reason with you, esp if you're feeling paranoid or something
"dude, i checked twice, it's locked. relax, man."
he'll try to distract you, by playing games and watching stuff, and just generally kinda trying to be funny to take your mind off of things
if you're having a panic/anxiety attack, he kinda panics too at first, before quickly pulling you away and asking what's wrong. he is sweating very hard
if you're unresponsive, he tries to stay calm but is honestly considering calling an ambulance. like he thinks you're having a stroke
"shit, a panic attack? uh, okay, errr.... take deep breaths, okay? in.. and out. in.. and out. okay, that's good.."
he looks up grounding techniques on his phone and relays them to you until you calm down and catch your breath. he like sends you images off of google of the 5 senses technique randomly and says he figured you'd need it someday
he tries to keep your anxiety in mind, and might slip up sometimes, but for the most part he tries to be careful with his words and actions as to not worry you. he shows his care in subtle ways!!
kyle broflovski
he tries to kinda. logic it out a bit. like if you're feeling insecure he tells you how unrealistic it is for someone to think about one random passerby's appearance forever
he does feel bad though. he doesn't completely understand, but whenever he's feeling insecure he tends to get really anxious about people at school
he usually gets anxious whenever he's doing something wrong or sneaking out. like he's actually sweating and shitting his pants thinking about what his mom will do to him if she finds out
he'll encourage you to order food for yourself, to get yourself out there more, and if you succeed he'll pat your shoulder and smile a lil
if you don't want to, he might dramatically sigh but he'll do it anyways. cuz he knows how hard it is
i do think he'd get a little anxious about asking workers for help and stuff, but he'll be the bigger person... he supposes... smh my head...
when you have an panic attack for the first time, he's like really confused and gets super concerned that you're having a heart attack, and pulls his phone out to dial your parents or 911
"i'm here for you dude! listen- hey, listen to me. it's okay. can- can you-"
he tries to talk to you to de-escalate it, but he gives up and has his hand on your back, while looking up what the fuck to do
'friend havign panjc atgack what to do'
if you're okay with it, he probably talks to your parents about it. he doesn't really trust himself to be able to always calm you down, so he encourages getting outside/professional help
he does try though, and he'll always be there for you in different ways!! like when you need help with something or just need company to distract you, he's at ur door with his xbox 360
eric cartman
you can tell that eric gets a little uncomfortable if you're freaking out or feeling anxious. whether it's because he actually feels bad or just doesn't know how to handle your emotions, you'll never know
but either way, he'll probably just like. sit next to you like "dude, what's up with you?" or in other cases he'll sneakily slip out of the room unseen
he does try to be kinda logical about it, but that's solely because he physically can't speak words of comfort.
"i mean, dude, be seriously. nobody cares about you that much to notice." you speak such kind words eric!!
he doesn't really like it when things get serious, so he'll generally try to transition the situation into something more casual. like he'll try to ease your (his) mood by getting snacks and playing games together, or even begging his mom to take you both to KFC
if you have a panic attack, all of his alarms are blaring and his brain is screaming flight!!!!! flight!!!! run the fuck away!!!!
and he probably tries to, but when you notice him and call his name he physically deflates
he awkwardly turns around and slowly strolls over. "Y/N... heeeeeeey... what's up... duuude..." you can hear the strain in his voice
if it gets to be too much, as in you won't stop hyperventilating or can't breathe, he'll probably alert an adult or take you to the nurse or something. he tells himself it's because he doesn't want to be a suspect of your death
if ur having trouble ordering food he'll gladly take ur place and make a scene to get all eyes on him. "erm excuthe me they athed for no pickleth🤓"
other than when you're voicing your anxiety, he probably treats you the same. i don't really think he'd take advantage of your anxiety unless you were like. butters or heidi or something and he was really trying to get you to do something for him or just trying to. stick himself in your mind. because he's a narcissist and he loves that!!
kenny mccormick
he doesn't relate necessarily, but he definitely understands.
he lives a lot of his life in fear of his next death, and is constantly praying it be quick and painless
kenny is more of a reserved fella, but not really shy or anxious. so if you're having trouble speaking up or ordering something he'll step up and do it gladly!!
i think he'd be pretty decent at comforting. like he'll pat his hand on your back and speak assuring, muffled words
"mm, mmph mmph mmmph! mmph mph mph mmmfmf mmf mph mph mmph!" (aww, it'll be okay. i'll walk you every step of the way, buddy!)
he tries to take your emotions into consideration more, and grabs your hand and squeezes it sometimes if you need a boost of confidence. sometimes he forgets your anxiety and says something rude and feels really bad about it
when you're having a panic attack, he's honestly really scared and expects you to start foaming at the mouth or something
he'll hesitate, but he'll pat your back and try to help you with grounding techniques. the 5-4-3-2-1 in particular is his favorite, and he'll tell you how to do it in like a rlly sweet and calming voice
he's still spooked though, and gets you a water bottle and like a washcloth. he's incredibly thankful you aren't dying or anything
kenny is very good at comforting! sometimes all it takes is a simple moment of eye contact and seeing his eyes crinkle that gives you a surge of calmness you didn't know you needed
tweek tweak
tweek is no outsider to anxiety and stress. he's literally a living beehive with all that damn vibrating
to anyone else, it would seem like tweek had a severe anxiety disorder, or even ADHD. but it turns out it's just a result of his crippling meth addiction and caffiene overdoses
he tries to think about what craigs taught him, about grounding techniques and how to handle a panic attack, and tries to apply those for you
he's shakily take your hand and wrap you in a blanket, making you hot cocoa and helping you slowly come back to your senses
"okay, okay, what are 5 things you can touch? or- no- AGH! was it 5 things you see- hear? no, ACK! i can't remember!"
most of the time if you're feeling on-edge about something, his main goal will be to just listen to you talk and validate your feelings. he doesn't really make it a point to give you advice or try to be logical, unless you directly ask for it
he's great at listening!!! he also doesn't trust his own advice enough to say it to someone else.
he really tries to think hard about what comforts him when he's anxious, and so he tries to use the tactics for you. for instance, he tries to help you get into a hobby like painting to have a bit more control over yourself
hc that tweek loves to draw with crayons so he'll make little drawings of you and him as stick figures being all happy and give them to you. as a treat
overall he is very attentive, and cares a lot. he tries his very best to be there for you, and a lot of the time that results in you two just hanging out or gaming together, so you can both get your mind off of things for a while. it makes him happy to be able to be there for someone else like craig was for him
#south park#south park x reader#sp x reader#platonic sp x reader#platonic south park x reader#stan marsh x reader#kyle broflovski x reader#eric cartman x reader#kenny mccormick x reader#tweek tweak x reader#stan x reader#kyle x reader#eric x reader#cartman x reader#kenny x reader#tweek x reader#sp headcanons#platonic sp headcanons#sp fandom#stan marsh#kyle broflovski#eric cartman#kenny mccormick#tweek tweak#creek sp#sp creek#pineappleciders
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you can’t fail at manifesting
don’t worry, this isn’t gonna be one of those aggressive i’m-shaming-you-because-you’ve-been-trying-to-manifest-something-for-months-but-it-hasn’t-materialized-yet posts.
i’m here to soothe.
listen.
it’s a tremendous blessing and privilege to know about the law. it’s also jarring at first. and there’s a fuck ton of misinformation out there that’s convoluting a law that is almost hilariously simple.
which is all to say: sometimes it takes time. to learn and unlearn and unlearn some more, to apply and fail and to apply and succeed and to unconsciously manifest and go woah and then to apply some more.
and while all desires are equal in consciousness, some might be a bit weightier to your beautiful human self who is, i’m 150 trillion percent certain, doing his/her/their best.
so, i beg you, cut yourself—and your loa besties—some slack.
now, do i agree that if you’ve been manifesting something for months or years but haven’t experienced success you might be “doing something wrong”?
yeah.
but your desires are promises from god.
and as long as you don’t give up on them (you know the law, beloved, so i trust you won’t do that) you will manifest every single piece of information, every book, every video, every thread, every conversation, every person, every EVERYTHING you need to get you what and who and where you want.
this, too, is law.
so have patience, and faith, and compassion for yourself, and know that, as long as you are staying loyal to the life in your mind’s eye and in your heart—as long as you are being true to your god-self—you are ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS on the right track.
i love ya.
#law of assumption#loa#loassumption#neville goddard#edward art#manifestation#self concept#affirm and persist#affirmations#faith#trust#time#patience#compassion#self belief#self love#mindset
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Replaced or not?
Part-1 Part-2
Based on my mc!!
⚠️ Note ⚠️:
Not a replaced au!Obey me au!
Also belphie wasn't locked in the attic!!
We don't have pacts with brothers this all is new!!
Summary: Here not only you but one more candidate was called as two human was required to compare and diavolo didn't considered Solomon as a human.
You
Her . The girl you hate ,the fucking I'm cute , pretty n good at everything , from your school "run-hai".
Pairing: obey me characters x Mc!
"Run hai let's go play this game!!"
"run hai would u like to try this nail paint i got from mojolish!!"
"Run hai why don't u came and sleep with me instead or go to hells kitchen"
Run hai this Run hai that, Run hai , Run hai Run hai
' They're all so fucking entranced by her , just because of her looks AUGH I Fucking Hate this' you thought .
Run hai was another candidate that was bought to devildom to survive . Everyone thought of her as a cute rabbit trying to survive. But you knew her true colors. She was from the same school as you after all. She was the girl who'd put even her bff at the alter just to get boys after her . She'd act all shy and tiny but you know her better.
Run hai was not a rabbit but a bug that'll go into your brain and eat it inside out .
Run hai was pretty no doubt . With a baby face , long brown wavy hair, light brown pretty eyes pink cheeks , pretty pink lips and more than average boobs and ass. Some may call her an angel.
Whereas you , you were not so eye catching, sure you were pretty too some may even call you gorgeous but only if they look hard and clear.
Short black hair almost about above your ears, black eyes, pale color, and thin but pink lips. You were skinny, so much that one would think that your malnutritious , but you do have a hourglass shape though. And in contrast to Run hai's small and petite curvy body , your's were tall and less curvy giving you a rather mature look.
([A/N]: i have described in detailed because it's my mc )
-------------------
You sighed thinking that how these bunch of demons are so easily getting tricked by a mere human .
They didn't ignored you , no ( that only made it hard for you to leave them on their own) they treated you okay but they do prefer her over you.
The only person who supported you more and absolutely tried their best stay away from her was Diavolo , Barbatos 'barbatos said it was a time thingy thing'
Simeon, luke as they're angels so know when they see an evil soul, and Solomon he said "it takes one to know one". Well according to Solomon she's super shady to which you agreed .
Satan also have his assumptions about her as to he can sense emotions very clear and he had seen Simeon flinched whenever she's near. What can a human do to make an angel flinch??
---------------------
You were getting tired of their lovey dovey time so you slammed your book shut as loudly as you can and went upstairs.
"What's up with her ?" Asmo said .
"Maybe she's tired of you all neglecting her" satan said angry at everyone , you were the only one who saw him for him . He knew that run hai was a bad person whe she said "you're just like Lucifer so nice~"
"We're not neglecting her we all talk to her on daily basis" Levi said irritated.
"Yeah only when you have to wait in a line so you just ask her to be their , and Lucifer just talks to her about her grades , asmo only acknowledges her when he want her to model for his dresses , mammon continuosly ask for Grimm , beel just asks her for food, and belphie, let's not forget you hate humans , you think she's a pest!!!"
Satan bursted out and all the brothers started feeling bad and guilty....Run hai saw this and tried to get their attention back "uhh or maybe she's just overreacting , she'll be alright!!" she said but no one listen . She Failed in trying to get their attention but do succeed in making Lucifer suspicious of her .
'Something's wrong with her' (yeah GOOD MORNING Lucifer).
-------------------
Satan reached your room and knocked
"you know you're allowed with knocking"
"how'd you know?"
"you always knock 4 times and in a rhythm"
".......sharp..."
"yeah cause you basically forced me to watch those detective movies with you"
He sat behind you watching your frown adorned face. "Don't worry about them they are idiots" you replied with a "i know....but still we can't just leave them to be a prey" " they're demons MC they won't be hurt ......at least not that bad" "hey!" . You then started to reason with him " You know she's not a good person" "i do....but stop worrying 'bout those who take you for granted "
"hmm....maybe you're right, I've my pride too yk!!"
"ehh don't say pride please..."
"ok huehuehue"
"what kind of laugh is that" satan laughed at your funny laughing style.
"it's called cat laugh!!"
"......wtf!!"
You both laughed a full bloom laugh , like kids in a playground. While Mammon was standing outside your door....,who heard all that......
To be continued.....
[A/N]: This is based on my dream i dreamt that i was summoned to obey me's world but the pick me bitch of my school was also there so i created it !! Hope you liked it!!
Also Run hai is pronounced as "Roon haaye"
Thanks for reading!!
#obey me shall we date#obey me short fic#obey me leviathan#obey me mammon#obey me lucifer#obey me asmodeus#obey me beel#obey me satan#obey me belphie#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon#obey me luke#obey me solomon#replaced au#obey me replaced mc au#obey me x oc#obey me x mc#obey me angst#obey me fluff#obey me fic#obey me headcanons
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saiki gets too used to being a cat when hes been shapeshifting all the time and accidentally develops a habit of meowing when hes happy. (it's obviously a vocal stim but he doesnt even know hes autistic..)
it's obviously never on purpose and he doesnt realize hes doing it until after, so the psychickers experience this a couple of times and tease him for it, and then they mention it to the others (probably flexing being closer with him or something lmfao.. "has he meowed at you yet?? no?? he meows at US all the time." "... what?") and they dont really believe them, so everyone starts trying their best to do/say silly things to make him happy so they can hear him meow..
first person to succeed at making him meow is nendo, probably by making him food, but nobody else really succeeds at first because they still dont really get what makes saiki happy lol.. food/dessert is like the only one they know..
so, when he finally does it in front of a few of them, its not when theyre TRYING to get him to do it.. it ends up just being on a quiet day hanging out in kaidos room or teruhashis room after school, theyre supposed to be studying but theyre just kinda hanging out, drinking tea, listening to a tv show in the background, having quiet conversations.. and saiki just meows quietly out of nowhere, eyes closed and head resting on his hand, arm on the table, just listening to everyone else's conversation.. but then they all go quiet because he just fucking MEOWED. hes mortified.
#haha idiot saiki u love ur friends#meow posting about meowing#saiki k#tdlosk#the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki kusuo#meows post
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Chapter 12 - The boys who went through hell.
Summary: Eijirou is a good friend but even he has his limits. Izuku finally wakes up, but he’s not really himself.
Warnings: Swear words, arguments, a lot of crying and mentions of injuries. Mentions of mental issues.
For those who are waiting: In this chapter, we get to know what’s up with Izuku. The next chapter is still angsty but he’s alive and relatively well and that’s not gonna change, so I’ll leave it to you if you wanna start reading now or wait until Chapter 14 which is the official end of the angst. Chapter 14 is almost angst free and Chapter 13 ends on a positive note.
First Chapter Master List
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
“Is he alive?” Is all you say after your phone lights up with Eijirou’s name.
It has been a whole hour since the accident but Katsuki’s and Eijirou’s phone just went into voicemail after a few rings, both of them probably busy giving statements to the police and making sure Izuku is (hopefully) taken care of.
After a few seconds of silence, there is a quiet “yes” coming from the other side. You can’t help but start crying again, even though you’ve literally just stopped 2 minutes ago.
You called Izuku’s mom right away. You tried your best to stay strong for her and it drained all your energy, even if it was only a 5 minutes long conversation because thankfully, All Might was with her so your phone call ended up with him trying to soothe your troubled soul instead of the other way around.
Your mind is a mess. There are no thoughts, just… emptiness. This is how being in shock might feel like, there isn’t any other explanation for it.
“He’s… alive… but… Y/N, you must stay strong. He’s… fuck.” Eijirou’s voice wavers. “We can’t see him until tomorrow. They need to do a lot of surgeries… his arms… they are broken. Shattered. The explosion… isn’t at fault. The building. When he was young he… broke his arms too many times….” Eijirou mutters, not even able to make full sentences, just little bits and bobs, trying to give you as much information as he can but failing with the interpretation so much you can barely understand a single word. “They don’t… know if he’ll be able to do hero work. They said this might be the end of his career. If the surgery succeeds, he might have a chance but he’ll need to stop completely for… months.”
“Ei, that’s not important right now.” You try your best to sound confident, but your voice can’t stop shaking. “What about his chest? His heart?”
“All good.” A new voice takes over. You have no idea who this is. “He lost a lot of blood but otherwise, he’s fine. It will leave a scar and it will take a while to completely heal as we used up all his stamina to save his right hand. Oh, I’m Kenji, the doctor assigned for his case. I asked Red Riot and Dynamight to try and relax but they aren’t listening.”
“Fuck you and your stupid fluffy blanket, Kenji.” Katsuki’s voice comes from the background and you can’t help but laugh in between two sobs.
“So as I said, we used up all his stamina to heal his right hand but both of his arms were injured quite a few times when he was young due to his quirk being too strong for his body hence why he was advised to keep them out of harm’s way to avoid any complications. Needless to say, this was the last straw for those poor, severely battered bones. Even though we healed it he won’t be able to lift anything for a while. He should be fine with everyday things but nothing else. He will need to start from the beginning and go to rehabilitation, but I do believe if someone can make it out of this, it’s him. I’ll send a note over with all the information you might need to support him. I’m sorry I can’t let you see him as we had to start with the surgeries as soon as we can, we also need to do some magic on his chest to make the pain more bearable, so… yeah. It’s going to be a long journey, but he’ll live.”
“That’s amazing, thank you.” You cry, finally able to breathe properly.
“I’m keeping these two for another 30 minutes then they’ll go straight to you. You have amazing friends, by the way, they couldn’t stop talking about you since they came in.”
“She ain’t my friend.” Katsuki grumbles in the background. “She’s… fucking family.”
“Oh, Katsuki…” You burst into tears again. “Can I talk to him? Please?”
“One minute. That’s it.” Kenji mutters and gives the phone to the grumpy blond.
“Oi, the fuck do you want?” He grumbles into the device, his voice shaking with every syllable.
“I love you too.”
“Fuck you, you asshole!” There is a sob on the other end and the phone goes silent.
~•🥦•~
It takes the two another hour to make it back to Izuku’s flat. Katsuki’s eyes are red and swollen and he does his best to avoid any kind of eye contact as he plops down right next to you on the sofa, leaning into you like a grumpy kid in need of attention. Eijirou only sighs, eyes just as red as his partner’s but somehow, more put-together in general; he makes a beeline for All Meowth’s little castle in the corner and starts petting the usually grumpy animal like his life depends on it.
“The list is not the problem, Deku is. He will… not be the same when he comes back.”
“Can we not have this conversation right now? We just came back. I want to chill.” Katsuki retorts angrily. You can’t help but gawk at him for using such a rude tone but this is not your fight so you let them talk this out.
Eijirou ignores his rudeness and concentrates on you instead. Nevermind then.
“We should make some food for tomorrow. I think they’ll let him come home in the morning. Kenji said he’ll be in a wheelchair for the first two or three days because of his chest injury. It will sting like hell every time he moves. Let’s make sure there is enough space in the flat for him to move around, maybe we should move some things… can we sleep in your room, Y/N?” Eijirou does not sit down; he’s walking around aimlessly, his mind clearly in a frenzy.
“Eijirou, sit down…” you are just about to retort but Katsuki jumps into your words.
“I ain’t gonna cook. We can fucking order. I saw my best friend almost die on the…”
Katsuki can’t finish the sentence. Something snaps in Eijirou and it’s the scariest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. His face is hardened on the edges, his skin is red from anger, he looks downright manic as he starts to yell.
“Your best friend?! Really?! Oh, I’m so fucking sorry, princess, would you like a fucking cup of tea, you selfish little prick?! I was there too, you know! I was the one getting his broken body out of the rumble while you sat on the fucking floor doing nothing, yet you didn’t even ask how I’m feeling! He’s not just your best friend! He’s mine, too! I felt just as miserable as you, yet I tried to be there for you and you can’t even move your fucking ass to make Katsudon for him! I can’t even close my eyes without seeing his dead fucking eyes and his head lolling in my arms lifelessly, thank you fucking much for asking!” Eijirou takes a deep breath, his legs shaking so much he can’t help but fall down to the floor. “Doesn’t fucking matter. Let’s just sit around and be sorry for ourselves. That will fucking help.” He mumbles between two sobs.
“I’ll… make Katsudon.” You mutter, trying your best to leave the two alone as soon as you can because whatever this was about, you have nothing to do with this.
“Let’s make it together. I… I’ll get the original recipe from Auntie.” For your surprise, Katsuki looks… extremely embarrassed, like a kid caught in the middle of mischief. There are fresh tears in his eyes, his cheeks dusted red, but his voice is weirdly even, like he’s been slapped out of his stupor and now he’s back to his usual self but more relaxed, more pliant. He touches the top of Eijirou’s head in a silent apology as he sneaks past him, but doesn’t do anything else and he also ushers you into the kitchen, forcing you to leave the redhead alone. After a few minutes of silence you can hear him standing up from the floor. He starts rearranging the living room, his actions followed by quiet sniffles and murmurs.
“Is he…?”
“He’ll come around. He gets scary as hell when he’s angry. If I would have tried to talk to him he would’ve beaten me to a pulp. He rarely gets mad but when he does, you better run.” Katsuki mutters, still looking at his phone, probably memorizing the recipe written in the reply. “Let’s get this shit done then I’ll talk to him when we go to sleep.”
“Are you not mad at him for talking to you like that?” You look at the blond, completely stunned.
“Why would I? He was right. I was being extremely self-centered and ungrateful. He deserved better.”
“I’m glad you know that.” Suddenly, Eijirou appears in the door, leaning on the wall lazily that he didn’t just have a complete meltdown mere minutes ago.
“I’m not fifteen anymore, I know when I fuck up.” Katsuki grumbles back and instead of an answer, Eijirou just bumps his fist into the blond’s arm in a friendly gesture and goes back to rearranging the flat, leaving you two alone to finish the food preparations.
These two are certainly something else.
~•🥦•~
“You can come in now. I need to finish some of his paperwork but he’ll be able to leave in a few minutes.” Kenji smiles at the five of you sitting in the waiting room. Inko and All Might are also here. “I must warn you, he’s… not in the best mood. Please take everything he says with a pinch of salt.”
You pale completely from his words. You’ve seen Izuku in a lot of different moods but this one doesn’t sound like him at all. He can’t serious… right?
~•🥦•~
“Why is she here?”
Your stomach churns from the sight in front of you. Izuku’s almost completely covered from his neck to his hips with bandages, one arm in a sling while the other just lays motionless on the bed, his fists clenched weakly as he stares at Katsuki and ignores everyone else. His eyebrows are scrunched together, his gaze angry, almost maniacally so, mouth tightened into a thin line. It feels like Katsuki is the biggest traitor in the world even though he literally did nothing to deserve such a treatment.
There is real terror in your eyes when you realize you don’t know this man laying on the bed. His face and his behavior is the exact opposite of your beloved’s, brash and rude, almost insensitive.
“The fuck do you mean, why? She’s your girlfriend!”
“Yeah, and she’s quirkless and you just danced around the whole city with her when we have a villain group literally after our biggest weaknesses!” Izuku yells back, flabbergasted, completely ignoring you sniffling in the background. Eijirou puts his arm around you and pulls you closer and you can’t stop yourself from burying your face into his chest, completely heartbroken.
“Midoriya-shounen. Y/N is safe. These boys didn’t leave her side since the accident.” All Might speaks up in a calm tone. “Don’t talk to them like that. Would you be able to sit at home in this situation? I don’t think so.”
“I’m really done with everyone yelling at me. Fucking sorry I exist, honestly.”
“Katsuki…” Kirishima tries to warn him but Katsuki doesn’t back down.
“You can be an asshole and tell me off for bringing her here but here’s the fucking truth: the villains have no fucking reason to fuck around with any of us anymore as I’m quite sure they proved their point by making the number one hero incapacitated.” Katsuki sneers while Eijirou pulls you even closer, knowing how hard this situation must be for you.
“I’ll bring Y/N home. Right now.” The redhead gives Izuku a side eye. “Actually, I’ll just ask Auntie Inko to take her away for a while.”
“I’m more than happy to take her in.” Inko speaks up between two sobs, clearly disappointed in his son’s behavior, even though she can’t hide how worried she is for her boy.
“No!” Izuku finally snaps back to his old self, his eyes the size of saucers as he sees you moving towards Inko, completely heartbroken. “Please…”
“Let’s give these two a moment then.” Eijirou sighs. This is the second time in the last 24 hours when you are utterly shocked by Red Riot’s forever changing personality. It’s like he knows what works with who, like a chameleon changing his colors to blend into their surroundings. You can’t help but respect that about him. Clearly, Eijirou is the one that keeps their friend group together, who helps everyone out in need, who’s always by everyone’s side even if his efforts are not appreciated. He’s amazing, honestly.
When the group leaves the room, Izuku moves one of his fingers in a silent plead for you to come closer and needles to say, you shuffle closer without a single retort.
“Sweets, I… I’m not okay.” Izuku bursts out crying just as you put your hand over his broken one. Izuku tries to bury his face into your chest but seeing the pain in his eyes makes you realize he can’t even move towards you without being in utter agony, so with tears streaming down your face you sit closer and move towards him, even if the position is extremely uncomfortable for you.
“I know, love. It’s okay. You’ll be okay.” You mumble, your fingers raking through his messy hair gently, in case there is an injury you don’t know about around the back of his head.
You feel miserable but also… weirdly happy. Izuku is clearly not okay, he’s hurt in more ways than it’s visible for the naked eye but he still wants you around, he doesn’t want you to leave and that means a world to you.
“I… want to be alone. But I also want you to be around. I know it’s selfish, but…”
“It’s okay.” You mumble before Izuku can finish his sentence. “Whatever you need, baby. We will get through this. I promise.”
“I love you so much, you don’t understand.” Izuku whispers. “I’m sorry - I know you hate to hear that but I need to say it anyway.”
“Say that to Katsuki, honeybun.” You sigh, your lips leaving tiny kisses on the top of Izuku’s head. “He got told off by Eijirou yesterday. It was downright cruel. Then you yelled at him today, again. He feels really bad about freezing completely while you got hurt. He feels like it’s his fault.”
“He froze?” Izuku tries to look up at you but he winces from the pain right away. You really want to help him and it’s extremely frustrating that there is nothing you can do.
“Yeah, he just collapsed on the floor, unable to move. Eijirou pulled you out of the rumbles alone and brought you both back to the safe zone. You don’t need to talk to him right now, but in the future… don’t forget to apologize, okay?”
“Okay.” Izuku sighs. “Go home with them, okay? I’ll ask mom to bring me home. I just… want to talk to All Might. He…”
You can’t help but smile.
“He told me in the waiting room. I know everything. Just rest, okay? See you at home.” You jump off the bed but Izuku pulls you back for a proper, deep kiss that tastes kind of stale but it’s still sweet nonetheless.
Life might not be easy for you two right now but there isn’t a single obstacle you two can’t overcome together. Love is silly like that. It makes you to be able to do things you wouldn’t be able to do alone. And if the amount of love you two feel towards each other is any indication, even this mess will eventually clear out and one day, maybe a bit later in the future, you’ll be able to see pro hero Deku again, confident and victorious as he looks down at the handcuffed villains by his foot. It’s going to be a long journey, but…
“Until you are by my side I know I can do anything.” Izuku mutters into your mouth before he finally lets you go.
… yeah, exactly that.
… Next Chapter!
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Potato Ramble:
- Okay, so the next chapter will also have some angst in it but it will be nothing compared to the main angst so it’s only up from here. Also, I don’t think there’s gonna be any more angst after Chapter 13 except one scene later in the future, but that will be a short one and much milder so I’m sorry guys for all the angst but I had this planned since the beginning and it’s important for the story. One more chapter and the fluff is back! I swear!
- Kenji means “to be in good health”. I wanted to give the guy a name that works for his quirk, in the good old Horikoshi way.
- I’ll probably write the Kenji’s list down for you guys but this chapter is already too long so it will be in the next chapter!
- Izuku’s wheelchair will be a high tech one; instead of spinning the wheels he can just use a little joystick to move around because he’s hands are obviously fucked. It can also go up and down to make it easier for him to go to bed for instance. One of its arms is also retractable so he can literally just flop out of it. Random info.
- I can’t wait to be done with these chapters. Honestly, they break my heart but I’m actually quite proud of them.
- Send me your thoughts, please! I also need the support! 😂💜
TL: @garfieldthomas @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @katsuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @thekookiecorner @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover @yao-ai @happydragonfrog @eeerreehhh @vinivave
#bnha x reader#mha x reader#midoriya izuku x you#midoriya izuku x reader#midoriya izuku#pro hero deku x reader#midoriya x reader#deku x reader
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Just a Smutty Poly The Last Kingdom Dump.1
Finan is W I C K E D at doggy
Sihtric prefer it when you ride him
And gods have mercy on Osferth in any type of coupling where he can press his face into the crook of your neck and just nuzzle and whimper there
Finan is fucking you doggy style, his fingers press into the fleshy parts of your hips, leaving bruises int he shape of his fingertips.
He does not mean to hurt you, but his thrusts are so powerful he'd otherwise keep scooting you up the bed until your head'd bang against the wall.
Sihtirc holds you by the hips, too. While you ride him, his hands feebly hold onto the bony parts of your hips, his thumbs pressing down on your skin.
He does his best to keep still, but his pelvis rolls up to meet yours every single time you sink down on him.
Osferth on the contrary keeps still. You're in his lap with gangly arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly against his sweaty body.
His face is pressed into the junction between your neck and your shoulder. With every slow undulation of your hips, he whimpers. Already desperate.
Osferth has the biggest cock, but defo needs to be taught how to propperly wield it.
Not that Finan or Sihtric are by any means small!!!
Though Finan is thicker than Sihtric
Sihtric is the loudest, whole Cookham/Bebbanburg/Winchester/whereever knows when you are with him.
He is a moaner for true and his mind goes blank. There is barely getting a word out of him. At least, not anything sensible.
Finan is the dirty talker. He'll employ a husky, growling yet quiet tone. His Irish accent lends itself perfectly for the filthy things he is breathing into your ear. And by the gods will Finan get filthy!
Osferth is a whimperer. Sometimes quietly, sometimes loudly. Keening whimper he muffles in the crook of your neck or against your chest.
He loves to smother his whining between your breasts.
Giving Osferth a blowjob, whilst he has no idea what to do with any part of him.
Suddenly hus arms feel too heavy, his hands too clumsy and where to his face? What to do with his weak, wanting mouth?
Sihtric holds himself much better. Though he gets desperate real quick.
He'll try not to claw at your hair or shoulders. He'll try to keep it down. He does not succeed. He is threading his fingers through your hair, gripping at your shoulder and babbling nonsense. Mostly he says 'please' and 'gods' just over and over while his thighs quake.
Finan is by far the best at taking a blowing. He keeps mostly composed, he stands firm and gently strokes your face.
He praises you in a warm husky voice and smirks down on you. You're his good little heathen and you are doing so well for him. He fucks your mouth in a gentle pace, making sure it is what you can handle.
They all three love eating you out.
They will fight each other for a chance to be burried face first in your cunt
Osferth is at first not very good, but so fucking eager. He just wants all of it. He does full earmuff, sucking and licking on every part of your womanhood, whimpering all the while.
He's drooling a little while he does it and grinds himself down on the bed with how wickedly hard it makes him.
He eventually gets better, though.
After thorough instruction from Finan, he knows how you like things and to listen to your tells.
He can curl his tongue just into your gspot and it is as close to heaven as you will ever come.
Sihtric will never not be sloppy, but in a good way. He seems to be everywhere all at once. He's lapping, prodding his tongue everywhere and lacks pacing. The thing that makes up for his lack of consistency is that he does all of it. Suck, lick, nip, kiss, everywhere, until you cum.
Finan will not only use his mouth when he is eating you out. He fingers defo will get involved, too. Be it to rub your clit while he tongue fucks you or to fuck you on two fingers while he sucks your clit.
He is absolutely going for overstimulation. He wants your wet arousal all over his beard!
Finan teaching Osferth how to eat you out!
Of course Sihtric is watching and giving commentary
The Irishman makes sure he has Osferth's consent, of course!
He grabs his baby monk's coppery blond hair and shoves him between your thighs.
He'll instruct Osferth exactly how to do it.
And gods will he praise him, when you are moaning and writhing in pleasure.
He might even bark at Sihtric to give Osferth some good eating out in his turn.
Secretly Finan loves being bossy to the other lads.
Am I still on about Osferth in regards to Oral, yes I am!
Bc Osferth has no idea what to do with himself when he gets sucked off, keeping one of the other lads around when you blow him is always happy.
Osferth is all too glad to someone to snog or to kiss on while you suck his cock.
He'll be holding on to Sihtric's arm and side, clawing feebly while mouthing along the Dane's neck between desperate whines.
Or snogging Finan, tugging at the Irishman's hair.
He lasts much longer like that too.
Keep him occupied, it works!
Osferth is very eager in sucking cock, too
Especially Finan's
Because Finan praises him so well.
Osferth adores being praised
As does Sihtric
Finan is defo one to do the praising
He is not very wont to beg
Osferth and Sihtric all the more
Sihtric can go for it at any time, at any place.
In full public if you were so inclined. He has no shame, as long as he is pleasing you.
Osferth on the other hand wants privacy.
Even the fact that you might be heard having sex turns his ears red like beets.
Finan falls in the middle.
He does not mind fucking you in the stables or the orchard when he knows no one is around, but he does prefer the privacy of a tent of chambers of your own.
Finan has the highest stamina.
But Sihtric the shortest refractory period.
All three of them love your breasts, they worship those little fun mounds.
SMOTHER Osferth with your breasts!
He'll nose against your soft flesh, whining and licking and softly praising how sweet your scent and soft your skin. And a lot of 'oh god'.
He'll grind against your thigh while lavishing at your chest.
Sihtric loves to suckle at your nipples, pretending to nurse.
Bonus points when you actually lactate. Sihtric will barely want to leave your bossoms.
No, genuinely, he just wants to curl into your and suckle on your tiddies.
Finan is more grabber.
He loves having your breasts in his hands. Groping and tugging at your nipples and pressing his fingers into your soft flesh.
Sihtric is openly a freak.
He has no shame and he has kinks!
And he is more or less a sub
And he has no qualms in expressing it.
He'll happily call you mistress/mommy/milady/anything you like. In fucking public!
He will also gladly discuss his kinks.
Wana know how exactly to tie him up, sure!
How about we talk about spanking, all good
Finan is a freak too
Though he is more a freak on the DL.
Sure, he is not beyond pinching your ass in public or nuzzling a hickey he previously left on your neck, when you are sitting around the fire with the gang.
But he knows how to keep the real juicy stuff under wraps until you two are in private.
OSFERTH THO
Osferth is the secret freak.
Pious ex monk by day, absolute freak by night!
He might like it when you choke him a little.
And he might choke you too, with those long thin fingers carefully retricting your breathing.
And the hickies he gives you, oh gods!
He loves seeing you are his!!!
He wants people to see he is your too.
Mark him up and feel him squirm against you.
Breeding is a thing for all three of them.
But Osferth is the worst of them.
#The Last Kingdom#smut under the cut#Osferth#Finan#Sihtric#Osferth x Reader#Sihtric x Reader#Finan x Reader#Reader x Osferth x Finan x Sihtric
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group chat boys while you’re on your period headcanons. <re upload>.
————————————
some things have been changed or added considering my writing has changed a bit since i last wrote this.
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isaac-
he’s the biggest softie with you.
he’ll immediately recognise that something is wrong when you begin to act a little different.
has prepared himself for your eventual mood swings.
he makes sure to keep you on bed rest even if you insist that you’re fine.
he goes out of his way and will literally drop everything to go and get you something you need, craving something? he’s already going to the store, need a hug? he’s on his way.
he read somewhere online that having sex on your period can help reduce the pain of cramps.
so he takes that to his advantage a bit and uses it as an excuse to still be able to fuck you.
nick-
he is the biggest sweetheart ever.
stays in bed with you the majority of the time, just cuddles you and massages you wherever it hurts.
he stocks up on snacks and stuff you crave for times like this.
he puts up with all your mood swings, when your angry he stands and listens but then when you switch to crying, he’s immediately got his arms wrapped around you comforting you.
just like isaac he isn’t put off by the idea of having sex with you while period.
he just becomes wayyy more gentle with you than he normally would be.
tanner-
he’s not the best at knowing what to do while you’re on your period.
he doesn’t really know how to handle your mood swings so when you start to become a little cranky he’ll keep his distance from you.
he’s a little afraid he might upset you more than you already are.
but then again he always manages to cheer you up when you’re having your little moments.
he’s always holding you close to him in the day and at night he practically wraps himself around you like a teddy bear.
he wouldn’t be obliged to having sex with you he just wouldn’t be up for it all the time.
yumi-
he would honestly be hopeless at the start.
he would be panicking so much and would probably end up making you feel so much worse than you already were.
he’d then get around the idea of it and would calm himself down and realise that it’s not too big of a deal.
i’d you had asked him to go to the store for you to get some pads he’d respond with “fuck no dude i’m not going down the pussy pad isle”.
he’d fill up a hot water bottle for you and place it wherever it hurts.
and he’d still try and succeed at making you laugh but would also make you feel like strangling him half the time too.
he isn’t entirely put off the idea of having sex with you, he’d honestly just much prefer to finger you instead.
larry -
honestly he’d be a little underprepared when you first told him you had come on and wouldn’t exactly know what to do.
but after some intense google research he soon gets the hang of it.
would probably threaten to beat up your uterus for hurting you so much.
he would go out and buy you loads of snacks tho.
but would probably end up eating half of them on his way home to you.
in some sick way he kind of enjoys you being on your period, just because he likes being able to stay in bed with you all day, watching trash tv while watching junk food.
he would probably ask you to go down on him even if you feel like you’re going to die.
#isaacwhy#tgc#the group chat#thegroupchat#thegroupchat x reader#the groupchat podcast x reader#softwilly#bigt#yumi#larrycroft#isaacwhy x reader#softwilly x reader#yumi x reader#bigt x reader#larry croft x reader#isaacwhy headcanons#softwilly headcanons#bigt headcanons#yumi headcanons#larry croft headcanons#tgc x reader#tgc headcanons#thegroupchat headcanons
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fall apart & redefine | knj
(or, things are hard. namjoon falls back into old habits.)
→ pairing: idol!namjoon x f. reader
→ genre: porn with plot | angst, smut, canon compliant
→ rating: explicit. minors dni.
→ warnings: vague prior relationship, emotional hurt/comfort, namjoon is really going through it (a lot of talk about mental health, unhealthy coping mechanisms, identity crises), basically namjoon’s 220721 live happens and he booty calls his ex, when you try your best but you don’t succeed aka when you’re selfish and a lil toxic and trying to be better but aren’t sure how, this is basically a three-thousand word blowjob, so smut warnings: oral (m. receiving), some hand action, one very brief instance of dom!joon. this is basically my yoongi fic in a different outfit.
→ wordcount: 3.5k
→ listen to: 5 seconds of summer - take my hand • troye sivan - angel baby • duncan laurence - arcade • bloo - i’m the one • stray kids - red lights • keshi - xoxosos • blanks - lost in the moment
→ a/n: started this forever ago (literally right after the aforementioned live, so we are not gonna talk about how long it took me to write 3k words) and needed to get out of my slump so i’ve finally finished it. thank you to jess & bee for all of their help, always. thank you to namjoon for posting sadboi shit on his ig stories.
Namjoon shouldn’t have called you.
Because it’d gone like—
(“You know I can’t fix you,” you say, voice so soft. Almost hesitant, like Namjoon will hear your uncertainty and spiral further, start running. Familiar, he thinks. He’s done that before. “Can’t fix this.”
Still, he sighs. Says, “I know, I just…” and somehow it’s enough.
“Okay,” you reply, and it sounds more like you’re trying to convince yourself rather than placate him. Sounds like a question. “Okay, I just want to make sure we’re both on the same page here.”
Namjoon stares at his bedroom ceiling and wonders what page he’s on. Doesn’t feel like he’s even in the book, to be honest. He’s untethered, drifting faster than he can ask for help, faster than he can reach out and grab onto an anchor, and when he’s like this he reverts to old habits. Just does what’s familiar, what feels good, and he knows it’s not fair, knows he always asks too much of you, but everything’s fucked. Everything is just really fucked and he doesn’t know who he is let alone what page he’s on.
“We are,” he lies. You aren’t, but the pain from that mismatch will hurt less than whatever’s going in his head. At least he has the self-awareness to know that much.
You’re quiet on your end of the phone. You’ve always had a penchant for calling out Namjoon’s bullshit: this is just more of it, wrapped up in the illusion of complexity. But the silence stretches on. Namjoon shouldn’t have called you, but old habits die hard or whatever. Every bad day before this had ended with you in his bed, so he’s not all that inclined to change it. Doesn’t really want anyone else there—not just because it’s too much fucking work, but they wouldn’t be you. Wouldn’t know him like you do.
Wouldn’t have that history.
“Is your door code still the same?”
It is.)
—and now he’s here.
Staring up at that ceiling again. Head a fucking mess, so much bearing down on him. This was supposed to be the easy part. Imagine his shock when it wasn’t. When, each day, it’s all he can do to get out of bed. Check his phone. Drag his ass into the shower. Stay awake. This was supposed to be the easy part, so why does he feel worse than ever?
“You’re not eating well,” you say, fingertips brushing over the valleys between his ribs.
Namjoon swallows. Tries to think up an excuse, but there’s no point, is there. He’s laid nearly bare beneath you and there’s nowhere to run. “No,” he admits. “Lost some weight.” His Adam’s apple bobs uncomfortably in his throat, exists alongside the lump that seems to have made itself a home there.
You just hum. It vibrates against his skin, raises goosebumps as he shivers involuntarily. “Still gorgeous,” you say, lips forming the words against his stomach. “Still so beautiful, Namjoon.”
It’s too much. He’d wanted this, sought it out, but it’s still too much. “Please,” he whispers, words waterlogged, and he’s going to cry, he is, but he knew that. He knew he’d be in this bed, powerless and overwhelmed. “Please don’t.”
You hum again. Dare a quick look up at him from between his legs. “Don’t tell you how beautiful you are?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Why not?” The pads of your fingers dig into the dimples at his hips. Dip beneath the waistband of his briefs, stretched thin around his thighs, tug downward. They’re stretched too thin. “You want me to lie to you?”
Does he? His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Sometimes.” He’s fully bare now, might as well play the part, tell the truth.
“What do you want me to lie about?”
All Namjoon can hear is the blood rushing in his ears. The sound of you kissing down his body, hip to thigh to calf, until you reach his ankle and run your thumb lightly over the ink there. Reverent, almost like you can’t believe it. Sometimes he can’t, either. Never thought he was built for that kind of permanence. Never thought he’d have anything that’d warrant a permanent reminder. “Want,” he begins, but his throat is so hoarse. “Want to hear you li-lie about all the things that used to be true.”
That catches your attention. Your gaze is sharp when it focuses on him, the nail of your thumb bordering on painful as it digs into the thin skin of his ankle joint. “And what would I have to lie about, Namjoon?” A crescent moon left behind.
A different kind of tattoo.
So much, he thinks. Whatever the two of you used to be isn’t what you are now, and so often he finds himself caught in all those things you used to say. All the words you used to use to tell him you loved him, and all the words he used to tell you that you shouldn’t. “That you—” he starts to say, but it’s choked off when you take his cock in your hand, the slick slide stealing away his focus. You’ve given him so little and he’s already teetering on the edge. Can feel the streaks of tears on his cheeks. All it does is make him feel worse. He’d asked for this and can’t even keep it together. Can’t even make it worthwhile for you—
“That I what?” He can’t answer you. The words are there, biting at the back of his teeth, and he can’t say them. Can’t say, I want to hear you lie and say you love me. Can’t say, I want it to not be a lie, but I’ve already stolen enough from you. “Namjoon.” Can’t say, I don’t deserve to hear my name sound so delicate in your mouth.
But you know. You always fucking know, and it drives him crazy, how gentle you are with him when he was so reckless with you; how you don’t hate him the way you should. So you just sigh, thumb the slit of his cock just to hear him whine, and say, “You want to hear me say I love you?” He shudders, tries to collapse in on himself. Finds it impossible to focus on both the way you’re touching him and the things you’re saying. Has to be one or the other. Nearly misses it when you just tsk, say, “I wouldn’t have to lie about that.”
A lie, just like he’d asked. That’s all it is, because he’s not brave enough to let himself hope. Hope is dangerous. Hope is how the two of you wound up here, with you between his legs, mouthing at his cock, and him in tears as he reaches another new low.
Namjoon shouldn’t have called you.
Your cheeks hollow around him and the pressure is delicious, on the verge of too much, and there’s the most obscene noise when you pull off of him. Then your hand’s back, stroking leisurely, like you have all the time in the world. “Why am I here?” you ask. Tone so soft. He doesn’t deserve it.
“I don’t know.”
You twist your wrist. “Don’t lie to me. We’re past that.”
He squeezes his eyes closed. Heat furls in his belly, threatens to spread all over, engulf him. Not yet, he thinks. “Habit,” he admits. Hates the way the truth sounds in his mouth, but it’s as honest as he’s willing to be. “You—you know. You know me. How I get.”
“Mm. Know you get stuck in that head of yours.” Namjoon nods, feels his hips leave the bed as you take him back in your mouth.
“Bad this time,” he says. “Can’t se-seem—fuck, baby—can’t seem to get out.”
You moan around him in response. I know, it says. A tap on his thigh, wordless instruction to keep going, keep talking. How many times have the two of you done this? How many times has he come in your mouth as he talks through some crisis, only for you to drag him back down to earth? Yeah, that’s habit, all right. “Everything is so hard,” he breathes. “Everything feels so impossible.”
He tangles his hands in your hair. Needs something to keep him grounded. Needs to touch you just to remember you’re real. “It’s su-supposed to be easy right now. Hiatus.” He snorts, derisive. He’s never had the luxury. “I’m almost 30 and I have no”—he moans loud, unabashed, when he hits the back of your throat—”no fuckin’ idea who I am. How am I supposed to start figuring that out now? I’m so far behind.”
“Are you?” you ask, alternating between long, languid licks at every spot he’s most sensitive and quick sucks at the head of his cock. “You’ve been secondary in your own life for twelve years, Joon. That’s not your fault. Why do you think you need to have it all figured out right now?”
Because not knowing has already cost me so much, he thinks. Can’t bring himself to say that, either, so he just… whimpers. Doesn’t trust a fucking word that might come out of his mouth if he opens it. Grabs onto your hair tighter and tries to guide his cock back into your mouth, but you slap his hand away. “Practice,” you say, finality in your tone.
Namjoon is sweat-slick, chest heaving. Right on the brink of an orgasm that’d have his toes curling, and you’ve just… stopped. He’s not going to whine. Not after he’s spent so long crying already, but he wants to. Instead, his brows pinch, hands tremble a little at how hard it is to reorient himself. “What?”
“Practice,” you repeat.
He wants to rip his hair out. “What the fuck d’you mean? How?”
“Start being honest.”
You might as well have shot him. “I—” I am, he nearly says. Sometimes he lies, like so many times tonight, but sometimes he’s too honest. Can’t stop himself from prying open his ribcage and inviting everyone to come take a look. Yoongi always tells him it’s just in his nature: as an artist, as someone always in pursuit of meaning, as someone who’s desperate to understand as much as he’s desperate to be understood.
Namjoon shouldn’t have called you tonight.
He should’ve called you before he went live and talked a bunch of shit.
That kind of honesty isn’t what you want. You already know he isn’t eating. You already know everything feels insurmountable to him right now. You already know he’s fucking miserable, because Namjoon has always been good at hiding when he has to, but never from you. In front of you, he’s always stripped bare. Always ten steps behind and needy, never on equal ground.
And he wants to do what you’re asking of him. He wants to be good for you, but the kind of honesty you want isn’t the kind on offer. “I can’t,” he says simply.
You click your tongue again, refusing to put it to better use. Namjoon doesn’t deserve it, anyway. Can’t even be honest. “Of course you can,” you answer. “How will you ever figure out who you are if you can’t even figure out how to tell the truth?”
It strikes exactly where it’s meant to. All those fucking songs Namjoon’s written about this: about personas and masks and being someone else, and you’ve just gone and stripped them all away. Took all those fanciful, bullshit words he’s written and set them on fire, dared him to exist as a person without them. Authentic. Namjoon’s not even sure he knows what that fucking word means, so he’s just a hypocrite on top of everything else he is.
“S’different,” he argues, and this time it’s you that snorts.
“We both know that isn’t true.”
His skin is scorching hot when he dabs at the sweat on his temples with the back of his hand. “What do you want me to say, then? You already have some fucking script thought up in your head?”
You roll your lips to keep from laughing. Namjoon has this nasty streak in him, sometimes. Loses his patience and lashes out when he feels like he can’t keep up, like everyone’s long since moved on and he’s only just gotten the joke. So used to being the smartest person in the room.
“That wasn’t very nice,” you say. Bite at the juncture of his hip, at the pad of fat there, and Namjoon can feel himself sinking again. Remembers how it feels to just let go, to exist outside of his body just for a little bit. “Apologize.” Remembers how it feels to relinquish control.
He whimpers when your teeth sink in again. A flashbang of pain to distract him from the storm inside his head. “S-sorry, baby, I’m sorry.”
Then you’re laving over all those bites, easing the sting. “It’s okay. You’re okay, Joon.”
“Didn’t mean it,” he continues, mumbling reassurances you don’t need. “Just—I just…”
When he dares to look down at you, you’re already staring back, head cocked. A question. What do you need? A prompt. Tell me how to help you. “Need your mouth,” he near-whines. “Please.” Your movements are hesitant, fragmented, and Namjoon fists the sheets to stay calm. Doesn’t know what to do with this headspace, that low-frequency thrum beneath his skin.
Still, you don’t give in. Stop moving altogether, and Namjoon whimpers. Feels the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, thinks about begging—knows you’d give in, you always do, always so good to him—but can’t force the words out. “I think,” you begin, filling in the gaps of his silence, nails dragging lazily across the insides of his thighs, “that we both have something the other wants.”
Namjoon’s breath hitches.
“You want me to get you off, and I want you to be honest.” You stick out your tongue and Namjoon stares, helpless, at the spit pooling on your tongue. Watches as it drips from your mouth down the length of his cock. As his vision goes a little blurry, he thinks he’d agree to anything.
So he just says, “Okay,” and keens high in his throat when you finally, finally follow the line of spit with your tongue. You work him over once, twice, and then your soft hands replace your hot mouth and Namjoon’s shuddering.
“Tell me something true,” you say, voice wrecked and hoarse. Namjoon did that. Fuck, Namjoon did that to you.
There’s very little keeping him from coming except knowing that he shouldn’t. He feels delirious. Reasons that all the sounds he’s making can’t possibly be coming from him, but they are, and he manages to shut up long enough to give you what you want. Says, “I still—still love you,” he grits out. Hands abandon the sheets, an arm thrown across his face because he can’t bear to look at you.
Doesn’t want to know your reaction.
But the stream of consciousness is nice—the mindlessness, the freedom, the thought of maybe ruining something permanently. Because he needs to let you go. Can’t let whatever the two of you have keep existing in this limbo, this liminal space. How ironic that Namjoon can give you everything except the only thing you want.
“I still love you,” he repeats, hips thrusting in search of friction, “and I’d still make all the same choices.”
You still. Namjoon isn’t sure if the gasp—so soft, blink and you’ll miss it—comes from him or you. Not that it matters. You’ve gone still and Namjoon finally just fucking said it and what else is left. What else can the two of you desperately cling to, now that you know Namjoon would do it all over again? Make the same choices every time? Watch the tears form and cling to your lashes as he clears his throat and breaks your heart, lets you go?
He’d do it again and again. Break your heart, give you some space, call you up with some sob story. Meet you in his bed. Kiss your forehead at the door but never ask you to stay.
His hand finds the back of your neck. Tangles in the hair there—gentle at first before it turns demanding. You tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything that Namjoon knows you this well: knows when to take and when to push. Knows the thrill you get when he’s beneath you, needy and desperate, but also knows what it does when he plants his feet and takes what he wants.
You’re just along for the ride. Maybe that’s always been the case.
“Your mouth, baby,” he says, gripping his cock with his free hand to guide it to your lips, still spit-slick and ready. He groans, fucks your mouth in shallow thrusts, just enough friction to keep him teetering on the edge but not enough to spill over. Liminal space. “Sometimes it scares the shit out of me, you know. That I’m capable of hurting someone this much and can be this selfish.” A deeper thrust that has his cock twitching against your tongue.
“I love you and it’s still not enough.” There’s the anger. Namjoon feels so many things lately, but anger is always easy. Familiar, like a pain that still lingers long after he thought he’d gotten rid of it. “I think I used to be a person, before all of this.”
Namjoon thinks about Robert Johnson, about this story Yoongi used to tell him in those early days when they had nothing and were nothing, scared to death, staring up at a ceiling they now shared with too many other people. We could just sell our fucking souls to the devil like that American guy, he’d said, if all this shit winds up being for nothing. The only two awake, always paralyzed by fear back then: Yoongi terrified of failure, but Namjoon—Namjoon dreaded the success.
Namjoon had known who he was back then: too smart for his own good, a rapper with a stupid haircut, a gamble some guy with just enough money had been willing to take, someone too young to bear all the weight that had been placed on him. Success would change him; he knew that. He’d be more shocked if it didn’t, with the way they’d all come up. Pit against one another, always competing, always doing stupid shit to make money. Everything had been a game, dog-eat-dog, and maybe they had sold their souls, just not in the way Yoongi had joked about.
Because who is he now, when there’s nothing left to prove?
Almost thirty, more money than he could spend in a million lifetimes, a pile of broken hearts at his feet. Yours, most egregiously. Who is he now, after a decade-plus of a one-track mind? Sold his soul, and now he’s paying the price.
This is too much introspection for the middle of a blowjob, he thinks. It’s not like this happens often. Namjoon doesn’t have the energy for it, the searching and the discretion and the fear that always comes after. Whole life tumbling down like a house of cards because of a signature on the wrong line. You’re safe, just like anger; might as well savor it. Try to commit it to memory while he can.
Not that it’s hard to do, when you’re working him over like this.
It’s been raining a lot in Seoul—wet season, streets flooded, still not enough to wash you away. Namjoon dreams about a simpler life: meeting you for a date in the park, the sky cracking open unexpectedly, the way your eyes would widen and your laughter would trail behind you as you ran, hand clasped tightly in his. Namjoon thinks about the way you’d cup your hands and catch the rainwater. Thinks about all the rainwater you’ve collected and lost.
Namjoon loves you and it’s still not enough, in the same way that the rain will always spill over, disappear through the spaces between your fingers.
Namjoon thinks he might be the rain.
He’d written a song for you once and never admitted it. Funny how that goes: how he can strip himself to the bone for words and still hide behind them. tokyo. Thunder booms, you do something with your mouth that has him spilling into it, and the words he’d written taste acrid in his mouth.
If I could choose my dream, I just wanna stop right next to you.
He’d chosen his dream. Said he’d choose it each time, in every lifetime: there isn’t a universe in which he’d choose you.
(Namjoon shouldn’t have called you.)
You decline his offer to reciprocate. Clean yourself up in his ensuite without much fanfare. Don’t linger as Namjoon redresses and walks you out. What is there to say, when he still loves you but doesn’t regret letting you go. Namjoon kisses your forehead at the door and doesn’t ask you to stay.
(You shouldn’t have picked up the phone.)
As always, thank you for reading! My inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. I’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤
If you want more of this universe, please check out the series masterlist!
#bts imagines#bts fanfic#namjoon imagine#namjoon x reader#bts smut#btsgoldnet#btswritingcafe#thebtswritersclub#namjoon angst#namjoon x you#bts x reader#bts scenarios#namjoon
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