#ash n roses writing

[reverse-falls-stan]

Just another night

Aka: Stanley is very much not a healthy person in any sense of the word (and I struggle with conflict scalation)

Tw: Child abandonment, manipulation, alcohol drinking, overall toxic marriage dynamics

Ship: Fiddlestan

He thumbed idly across the records, choosing one more on feeling than the title of the vinyl. The whiskey was already opened by the counter. There was no one to complain about leaving alcohol out in the open, his brother had locked himself in his study hours ago and the children- lord knows where they went.

The disc slided swiftly into the player, the resonance of the room being perfect to make the old ballad eco through out. Humming to the tune in an attempt to fully remember it, Stanley served himself the glass and ice. His eyes slipped closed as his body swayed to the soft rhythm, taking his sweet time of enjoying the music before asking the first bitter-sweet sip. It goes down easy, and with it all the worries of the day, the week, the month.

Like many times in his life, there was nothing but a bottle and some music to keep hin company-

"That's... Sinatra, right?"

- until now.

Then again, it was the only interruption he could ever ask for

"Ah, sorry doll. I didn't mean to bother you"

"Not at all" Fiddleford laughed softly- and oh how that laugh still made him feel dizzy still

Stanley opened his arms and his husband walked up to him, kissing his hand before taking it, pulling him in. Both of them struggled to get on track, tripping and stepping onto each other until almost out of nowhere they found themselves in complete synchronization with one another and the tune. Once they realized, they just chuckled, kissed softly, and Stanley took another sip

"Do you remember this song...?"

"I think so? Is... yes, one of our first dates, right?"

"Mhm. I had gotten a record player so you and Sixer would have something while you worked..."

"And you just hijacked it at some point for the date- wait, no, there was a- a band right?"

"I got both. You deserved it after all"

"Still the same flatterer as then, hun"

"And we danced the night away..."

As they swayed softly at the rhythm of the fading song, Stan sighed and left his head rest on the crook his darling's neck

"You really get me acting all stupid..."

"Is that an insult, doll?"

"You know is not. Just... when we dance like this, I get dumb ideas. The kind that only make sense when you're young and sick with love"

"Such as what?"

"... Running away"

The record finally went silent, along with the rest of the room

"I wanna pick you up, run to the car, and ditch this town. Maybe get new names. Leave all this business nonsense and never look back"

After a few moments, Fiddleford hummed and paced a soft kiss to his temple "That really is a love sick idea"

Stanley sighed again and, never letting go, made his way backwards until dropping on his armchair, his husband idly sitting on top of him

"Are you not happy here?"

"Of course I am. We got everything we could want"

"Then...?"

"I dunno. I just got stupid, I told you. But don't you think it'd be nice?"

"Hm... yeah, I guess it is nice to think about. We could try to move out... but we'd be forgettin' sumthing, don'tcha think?"

"Hm? What?"

He he'd his cheek so he'd look up at him "The kids, Stanley"

"Oh."

Of course. It was always those kids. For the last 6 years it has always been those kids.

"I mean, we could always just leave 'em with Ford-"

"Oh please, ya know that man would leave 'em in the garbage dump if he had the chance"

"He wouldn't do that. He's not getting near enough to a dump to do it"

"Ya know what I mean! Those kids got nothin' but us. But you"

It took all of his will power to not groan in response, deciding to instead finish off what was left of his drink in a few gulps to have something else to think about.

"Look, I know it's pro'lly not what you expect to be doin' at this age, but they're still our family"

"Yeah, cuz Sherman decided to fuck off with my nephew to lord know where"

"And that was their mistake. It don't gotta be yours too"

Stanely focused only on the ice that remained om the glass, swirling it around just see them crash and clink, completely useless without its companion.

"... you weren't actually thinking about it, right?"

"... I need to refill my drink. You want one?"

"Hon."

"I'm sure we're got some nice rum arond-"

"Stanley."

Finally, he turned around to meet with those strange eyes. That odd look somewhere between anger, confusion and betrayal. One he couldn't for the life of him remember ever having seen in his husband's face yet the dread that made a home in his stomach as a result felt so familiar.

"Are you actually mad? Really?"

"You honestly think I'm gonna be ok with the idea of just abandonin' them?"

"It's not abandoning. They'd still have Ford, they'd still have all of this mansion, hell they'd have the town!"

"That ain't what a kid wants, they want you! A parent, or- or at least a guardian!"

"Like you would know anything about that!"

Fiddleford suddenly got up, holding the side of his head "ack- just- God you're impossible sometimes! Why- why- why do ya always get like this when ya drink?"

"Fidds- please-"

"Just- Just forget about it! I'm gettin' a headache. I'm going ta da bedroom. Ya can come when ya pull your head out your glass and ass"

Stanley looked from his seat as he walked away, muttering something under his breath. He kept staring until his figure could no longer bee seen down the corridor. Then, he calmly got up to serve himself again, drinking half of it in one go, and walked down that same corridor already with quite the struggle. The alcohol in his system, however, didn't seem to be a problem when he took the memory gun out of his jacket and pointed straight to the back of the head. He rushed to catch him, now both of them in a daze in front of their dorm

"Uh- wha..."

"Geez, I swear ya become more of a lightweight with every year doll"

"Really? I.. ugh..." he held his head, and Stanley kissed his temple

"C'mon, let's get ya to bed before you pass out"

"... a- alright, yeah, thanks..."

After laying him down on the bed and spoiling him with a few more kisses until he was fully knocked out, Stanley took out the gun once more, forcing his foggy mind to think about something

He only had to change a few characters of the prompt before shooting himself

After the shock was gone, he got up with a blank expression, returning the device to the hiding spot it should've been in from the begging, and dragged himself back to the living room

[gleeful-northwest-fam]

New (old) Drabble for y'all to enjoy (I made this a while back. Just happens to feel. Relevant :3)

— Mod 🥀

"You should talk t' her, ya know?"

The voice pulled him out of the apparent trance he had been in.

"About what, exactly?"

"You know exactly about what, ya pompous butt!" Bud shoved an accusatory finger into his shoulder. He still wasn't used to seeing him be so conscious of the language he used.

There were a lot of things Preston wasn't used to yet. Technology managed to baffle him despite his experience, the sheer amount of people that now visited his home daily made him want to tear his hair out, and he couldn't shake the feeling that Melody was an anomaly magnet. But the biggest, must elusive part of his new life was the little girl that was right now chatting up a storm with two other children

Pacifica Northwest. His one and only daughter.

In retrospect, Priscilla may have left a clue or two that that's what she wanted then to talk about- but those fell on ears deafened by paranoia and guilt, and as such he spent the last 13 years believing that there was no one to go back to, no one to miss him, only his step brother who most likely still hated him. Yet there was someone who he never, waiting patiently for his return, a complete stranger he had fallen utterly enamored with the moment he saw her

The kid was adorable in all senses of the word, lightening up every room she was in (literally, he was sure that jacket was a fire hazard), having some joke or quip for every occasion, and with a mind so fast and volitile he could barely keep up. He wants to know so much more about her, make up for the lost time, but...

Preston shook head and returned to the task at hand of securing the sentient carnivorous plant that had sneaked in without any of the kids knowing "I don't think it'd be a good idea"

"What?!"

"Hush! I just don't think is a matter worth pressing"

"Worth- Preston, that's your kid! She's missed you!"

"She can't miss me, I wasn't there"

The grimace in his brother's face made him realize how his words had come off and before Bud could start a shouting match, he cleared his throat

"No- it's not that is just- look at her! She has friends and charisma-"

"So?"

"And is avoiding me-"

"She's not avoiding ya, you're the one all closed up in that lab"

"Even when I'm not, I can't seem to connect with her. Isn't it better to not force it?"

"Oh but when ut comes to my boy..." he muttered, and Preston found the right excuse to turn around and press the digits into the keyboard of the vending machine

"Is this what this is all about? I never asked Gideon to come follow me- though I am proud of him for doing so. Arent you the one who told me to stay away from them?"

"Don't go changin' the subject now"

"You're not listening, are you? No, you never do. She doesn't need me , Bud. She's spent 12 years without me, and is doing better than I ever did at her age. I don't doubt my disappearance may have affected her, but the evidence is in our faces. Trying to form a relationship now- all it is likely to do is to open that wound for her. No, I... I shall keep my distance"

He walked down the stairs, holding onto the metal cage with more force than was necessary.

After a few seconds, hurried pair of footsteps joined his own "So ya just gonna give up like that? Don't you wanna be her dad now?!"

He stepped into elevator, hesitating for just an instant before pressing down, facing his step brother as the doors started to close, knowing he wouldn't get there in time

"I never said that."

[illyrianbitch]

Beneath the Ashes of Our Broken Oaths

Pairing: Morrigan's Sister!Reader x Azriel

Summary: After abandoning the refuge of Velaris, you, Morrigan’s twin sister, returned to the forsaken Hewn City fueled by a vision for a better future. Now, your estranged family seeks your help when rumors of rebellion spread at a time of utmost inconvenience. Torn between your anger and a desire to protect the good, you begrudgingly agree and are forced to face memories of a past life and the unsettling presence of Azriel– the first man you ever loved.

Warnings: ANGST, Helion being compassionate and its sexy, Inner Circle slander (sorry feyre baby), Y/N is kind of a bitch (but its warranted and a slay), family trauma.

Word Count: 2.9k

Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

It was Helion, the High Lord of Day, who had seen the flicker of hope in your eyes. A man of discerning wisdom, he recognized your yearnings of a better world. He knew you, he knew your heart, and he trusted your vision— with the promise of your support shall he need it. You knew that your support, in the grand scheme of things, meant nothing to Helion. He had always held a heart of gold, of understanding, and he would have helped you without anything in return. But you had insisted, declared that you needed to give him something to thank him. Your support, he had agreed on. It was all you had left, anyway. 

Now, you stood before him, pleading. Your chest was tight and a calm panic filled your veins. You needed to act. You needed to keep things in place.

"Helion, please," your voice, normally composed, now carried a tremor, a plea that hung in the air, reeking of desperation. Low light poured through stained glass windows as the sun slowly set, painting a kaleidoscope of muted colors on the marble floors.

His eyes, usually filled with warmth, held a regretful sympathy. 

"Y/N, I wish I could," He replied, his voice caressing the air,  "But with the current state of affairs and your father’s growing paranoia, it's too risky. I can't jeopardize my people. My help is needed elsewhere."

Approaching you, he extended a large hand, gently cupping your chin, his touch reassuring and pained. "Give me some time, sweetheart."

Desperation deepened in your eyes, and the intensity of your plea swelled. Aching with fear and worry, your gaze remained locked on his. "I don’t have time. Hewn City corrupts swiftly. You know this.”

Helion sighed, a sound filled with a blend of both compassion and helplessness. "Perhaps you should reach out to Rhysand. His influence might help, now more than ever."

Yor felt a bitterness surface, like bile rising through your throat. A soft scoff left your mouth as you roughly pulled Helion’s hand away from your chin, withdrawing from his touch in offense. "Rhys had a chance to help. He didn’t. He couldn’t care less. I won’t go crawling to him."

Helion's gaze softened, a tender response to your rough tone. He let out a sigh and pulled you close to him once more. His touch sent a wave of comfort through you, something that happened often when you visited him to discuss these things. Helion was a man who loved physical connection— you didn’t mind it. It made you feel seen, understood. Now, you craved that feeling more than ever.

 "I don’t understand this contempt you hold. Surely they will want to help you. They miss you."

You rolled your eyes at this. Of course Helion would think so. As much as you trusted him and his admiration for you, he always did love your family. Your sister and your cousin would always be in your life, tied to you in one way or another. Frustration tinged your voice. 

"It's too late. Going to Rhysand now would draw unwanted attention or, worse, he’d halt my efforts because of some perceived danger."

There was a moment of silence, and your eyes bounced around the room, searching for somewhere to land that wasn’t Helion's burning gaze. Once more, he moved a hand to gently cradle your face.

"You cannot foresee every outcome. You're not a mind reader, Y/N."

A bitter laugh escaped you, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "I might as well be when it comes to family."

 "You've accomplished so much. Allow yourself a reprieve. You can't bear the weight of the innocents lives in Hewn City alone."

You blinked away the tears that welled in your eyes as you admitted, "I can't afford to stop. If I do, they'll think I've given up." 

"No," Helion asserted, his voice unwavering. "Your dedication is commendable, but you need to care for yourself. Let me help you."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you stared at him, his brows furrowed slightly and a sad smile on his face. He moved his hand once more, gently tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear. Then, he ran a finger along it, a soft caress carried by a weight of understanding. You shuddered at the lightness of his touch. 

 "Stay, Y/N,” He suggested, his voice smooth and low, “Let me be a distraction. You take care of others; let someone take care of you."

You leaned slightly into his caress, feeling the warmth radiating from his hand. A fleeting sense of comfort teased at the edges of your weary soul. Yet, reality swiftly reasserted its grasp, and you gently withdrew, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

"I appreciate the offer," you murmured, your voice tinged with regret. Your hand delicately intercepted his, guiding it away from your cheek. "But I can't afford the luxury of distraction right now."

He acknowledged your decision with a small nod. 

“I wish I could do more for you."

A tender smile found its way to your lips and you held his gaze for a fleeting moment of gratitude.

“I know.” You replied before you winnowed away, leaving the luminous embrace of the Day Court behind.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You were on edge. You had been for the last few weeks. Now, after failing to convince Helion, you could feel it catching up to you, a dark hole forming in the pit of your stomach. It felt like you were being swallowed alive, eaten by your own anxieties and fear. But you didn’t have time for this. You couldn’t risk falling apart, becoming vulnerable. No, not at a time like this.

You had mastered the art of drowning your thoughts, of discarding the weight that threatened to pull you under. Tonight would be no different. The impending storm would be weathered, as it always had been. You would begin to drink your worries away, give them time to manifest, and then shove them away into the crawlspace of your mind, free to collect dust and rot away.

You moved toward a small table where a simple platter of dark amber liquid awaited. Your fingers tightened around a small crystal glass as you poured. As the first sip touched your lips, you felt the familiar burn, a welcomed distraction. The amber liquid offered solace, if only for a fleeting moment.

And then, you stilled. The creak of the floorboards behind you announced their presence, and you felt it—a pricking at the base of your neck, the subtle disturbance of the air as someone entered, no, appeared. Your body tensed instinctively, shoulders rigid, as you ceased your movements. You took a moment to compose yourself, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply-- a futile attempt to ground yourself.

You downed the drink, the warmth spreading through your veins, and set your glass down, a definitive thud echoing in the silence as it met the table. You turned around slowly, the ever-present undercurrent of anxiety beneath your skin momentarily masked by a face of composure. The simple décor of your home surrounded you—the tattered tapestries, broken furniture—all a testament to a life you had built in the aftermath of your return. One that lacked the color that you once held.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Your voice, laced with both mockery and a hint of something darker, hung in the air.

In front of you, Rhysand stood tall and proud, a figure of authority. His eyes, once familiar and comforting, now held a look determination. His gaze held yours strongly, and for a swift moment, you saw them soften. But the tenderness quickly dissipated, his eyes narrowing with a slight tilt of his head. You ran your eyes along his face, then down his form, taking in the detailed and intricate patterns of his clothing— an embodiment of Night Court royalty. Then, you looked at him again, your jaw clenching. It had been a while since you looked into his eyes, a violet color deeply embedded into your mind. For a moment, his presence consumed your thoughts, distracting you from the other man that you felt in your home.

From the corner of your eyes, you could see the dark figure stepping out from the corners of your room. A darkness licked at your skin.

"Hello, Azriel," you acknowledged him, your eyes remaining fixed on Rhysand.

Azriel's presence was a dark whisper. The edges of your room seemed to blur with shadows as he stood there, a silent observer.

"I’ve come to request your help," Rhysand's voice cut through the stillness, his words carrying the weight of urgency.

Your response was swift, dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, that's rich."

The corners of the room seemed to darken further as Rhysand's frustration manifested in the clenching of his jaw. The subtle play of shadows accentuated the lines on his face, revealing the strain of a desperate plea.

"Please hear me out."

You shook your head. They shouldn’t be here. This was risky, dangerous. You needed them to leave. They needed to disappear, to let you go and never find you again. That was the only way you would be able to survive.

But every fiber in your being was screaming to do the opposite, to embrace your cousin and explain to him, tell him everything. You wanted to get on your knees and beg for the kindness he always showed you, to ask him about your sister. For him to tell you about his life, his love, his child. But you couldn’t. And from inside you, your heart tugged you to Azriel, his stoic form. You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to catch his gaze. It was all so wrong. This disconnect, this anger you felt for them, for your situation, for yourself… it was eating you up. But this wasn't the time. So you pulled your thoughts together and focused on the one thing that had never let you down: your fire.

You reminded yourself of the resentment you held, deep down. Reminded yourself of how they had failed you, separated themselves from you, your vision, and the suffering of the good people here, in Hewn City— your city. Rhysand's city.

Ignoring his original words, you looked at Rhysand with the hint of a wicked grin on your face.

"Where’s your child bride? I heard she’s reading at the same level as your babe. You must be overjoyed."

Rhysand's expression tightened, anger simmering beneath the surface. The mention of his mate touched a clear nerve, and for a brief moment, you reveled in the discomfort you had caused. It was a twisted satisfaction, a way to regain some sliver of control in this unexpected encounter.

His temper flared, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability replaced by a presence of anger that you knew all too well. He bit down on his frustration, attempting to maintain a semblance of composure. But you pressed on.

“I’m only kidding, take a joke, Rhysand. 500 years and you still have the emotional regulation of a teenager. Nice to see some things don’t change."

Rhysand's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and confusion, observing you and your wall of icy nonchalance. His name sounded foreign on your lips, spoken with such malice and distaste. Even the last time he had seen you, during a bloody war against Hybern, you had not been so venomous. This was a fact you both thought of as you stood here, now, in front of one another again. You moved gracefully through the room, ignoring their presence, and opened a small box that sat on your table. The delicate aroma of sugar wafted through the air. You took a seat.

Azriel and Rhysand exchanged glances. Your fingers idly played with the box, an ornate creation that held delicate, candied treats. With an almost casual indifference, you brought one of the sweet confections to your mouth, savoring the taste as if the weight of their presence meant nothing to you. You could feel the tension building in the atmosphere, heightened by their growing sense of agitation and frustration. It radiated off of them like heat. You welcomed it with open arms, like a freezing child in the cold.

"These are the loveliest desserts,” You explained, bringing the candy close to your face with an examining eye, “Hard to come across here. But I know a guy.”

“Want one?" you offered, dropping your candy back into the box and extending it toward Azriel, whose stoic expression remained unchanged.

"What? Doggy can’t take a treat?" You taunted with a measured smile. You didn’t miss the slight flare of his nostrils, or the way his shadows began to snake up his arms, angry and riled up.

A tense silence lingered as Azriel remained perfectly unmoving, his eyes holding a depth of attentiveness that made you uncomfortable. But the discomfort within you sought distraction, and you continued with your mockery. You waved your hands in the air as a dismissal.

"Bah, you guys are no fun."

The room felt charged as you baited them, your attempts to deflect the gravity of their visit becoming slowly evident in every casual gesture.

Rhysand's frustration reached a boiling point, and he took a step forward, shifting the conversation.

"We didn't come here for sweets and jests. We came for you."

You chuckled, a sound that held a bitter edge. "Me? You must be desperate, Rhysand."

A flicker of hurt crossed his eyes, swiftly replaced by a steely resolve. "There are rumors of rebellion here,” He took a pause, glancing around the room as if he was contemplating continuing. He spoke again, “But, I'm dealing with a larger threat that has me on the defense. I cannot afford an uprising."

Your laughter cut through the air like a blade. "Is the idea of civil unrest among your people an inconvenience? My, what an issue, must be terrible."

Rhysand's patience waned, his features hardening. "Stop this, Y/N. We need your help to prevent a disaster."

You leaned back against your furniture, your eyes narrowing as you regarded him with a chilling indifference. "I've heard nothing about any unrest. You've wasted a trip."

Rhysand's gaze bore into yours, an unspoken challenge. "Azriel has been in Hewn City, gathering information. He's heard the rumors. I know you're lying."

In that moment, a silent battle waged within you. The desire to help, to make a difference, warred against the fear of exposing yourself to the dangers lurking beyond your sanctuary. The memories of the past, the reasons you returned, echoed in your mind. You wanted to help, but you knew their presence could unravel the delicate life you had crafted.

Rhysand's voice softened, a genuine plea beneath the layers of frustration. "Y/N, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious. Why do you refuse to acknowledge that?"

Then, his eyes softened, sensing a crack in your facade. Inner turmoil clouded your eyes as you locked gazes with him. The conflict within you played out in the subtle tremor of your fingers, a telltale sign of something bubbling beneath your icy exterior. But as quickly as it manifested, you shut it down, fast enough to resolve Rhys of his attentive eyes. He swallowed and fixed his composure.

"Azriel has gained information that it's not just a rise against me. There are whispers of a rebellion against Keir himself. I need you to listen for information from your father."

Your father. A wave of nausea rippled throughout your body and you clenched your jaw in response. The title sounded strange coming from Rhysand, a stark reminder of your place here, of your place in his family. No, no. You thought. I will not let them see me falter.

Rhysand continued, "Azriel has gathered intelligence, but we need someone on the inside. We need you."

A cynical smile now played on your lips as you taunted them, "Maybe it's time for a change. The mighty High Lord struggling to keep control – how novel."

Azriel, who had maintained a cold silence until now, spoke up for the first time, taking a heavy step forward towards where you sat.

"We both know you do not mean that."

You turned your gaze to him, eyes dark. "And what do you know about what I mean, Azriel? You don't know anything about me."

Rhysand put a hand out in front of Azriel’s form, biting back his retort. The room hung heavy as you finally declared, "You've overstayed your welcome. It's time for you to leave."

Rhysand's eyes met yours with a determined glint.

"I will be back. Family does not give up."

His words pulled out a surge of anger bubbling within you. Family? Without a second thought, you stood up, your chair scraping against the floor. "Family, huh?" Your voice dripped with bitterness, and you moved toward him, anger etched on your face.

But before you could reach him, Rhysand winnowed away with a controlled fury, leaving Azriel lingering.

Azriel stood still, his eyes slightly narrowed, his brows furrowed at you. You met his gaze and felt a wave of guilt through your body, filling the hole where your fury once was a second before. If you didn’t know any better, it seemed as if Azriel was….. Disappointed? Hurt? But you stabilized yourself, pushing the observation away. Your anger, raw and unfiltered, had an intensity that took even him by surprise. He held your gaze. Then, like a wisp of darkness, he too disappeared, leaving you alone with the remnants of unresolved tension and the taste of bittersweet candied treats lingering in the air.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

a/n: hello hello!! welcome to my lil new fic!! im new here and i have no idea what im doing but i hope at least one person enjoys what has become my creative fictional baby. when i tell you this story has a place in my HEART....y/n here is multilayered and complex and flawed but that is why i love her!! serving cunt 24/7!!!

tumblr scares me so any feedback is so very loved and any advice is great too!! mwuah

[mistertemporaryman]

I wasn't sure to take your tags on my posts as complex yearning or hyperactive silliness from seeing my posts but I figured both are fine and your tags made me laugh because I feel like I'm silly in a similar way, bravo dude thank you for the laughs and the compliments 🥰😘

You cute, that thang doth be thangin quite thangily, and I stand firm by earlier statements on the mystical powers of queer mullet pussy

But if I were ever to be quite that down bad to unrequited simp in earnest via System of a Down lyrics I'd at least have the common decency and shame to keep it in the DMs. Pay me little to no mind in this Smaug cave of hoarded tumblr booty

[mischiefmanagers]

Eris Vanserra Fic Rec Library 🍁❤️‍🔥

these fics are a mix of Eris x reader, Eris x OC, and a few general Eris fics with no pairing. if you've never read an Eris fic before, I highly recommend starting with the first rec below (gust & flame) because that fic made me fall in love with him. enjoy ✨

🌼 personal favorite 🥀 angst 💞 fluff 🔥 smut

by @invisibleanonymousmonsters

gust & flame (series) 🥀💞🌼

by @theostrophywife

here in your arms. 💞

like you wanna be loved 💞

by @acourtofmenandthirst

The Fox & The Hound 💞

by @leafsandstarlight

Destiny's Battleground (series) 🥀💞🔥

In Spite of Our Differences (series) 🥀💞🔥🌼

Great Rite 🔥

The Prince of Blood

by @profound-imagination

Finding Home 💞

Rose Gardens

by @munsons-hellfire

Happiness in the Heart 🥀💞

by @sweetcarolina-24

Scorched Shadows

by @azrielbrainrot

Fire on Fire

Mind Over Matter 🥀

by @danikamariewrites

Rescue 💞🥀

Fake Sleeper 💞

Peace 💞

Seekers 💞🌼

Did You Just Say No?

Song of Death

Starfall Revelations 🥀💞

Guilt 🥀💞

Kisses 💞

by @redbleedingrose

Till the End of Time 💞🥀

Pretty? 🥀💞

by @b0xerdancer-writes

It Wasn't Supposed to Happen Like This 🥀💞

by @thisblogisaboutabook

Bad Idea, Right? 🥀🔥

by @azsazz

Cherries, Juniper, and Orange Slices 💞

Fire & Water 🥀🔥

by @honeybeefae

Cauldron Fated 💞🥀🔥🌼

Forgotten Ties 🥀

Valentine's Mini Fic 💞

A Court of Wings & Fire (series) 🥀

Past and Present 🥀💞

Coronation Day 💞

Potions 🔥🌼

by @we-were-beautiful

The Fox and the Hounds 💞

by @bubbles-for-all-of-us

My little flame 💞

Her 🌼

My tears ricochet 🥀

by @2thestars-andbeyond

The Fire That Burns Within (series) 💞🥀🔥

by @simkaswriting

What if…Eris had danced with y/n instead?

by @jeannineee

Daylight 🥀💞

Breeding 🔥

by @jdeclerc

a brother's intervention 🥀

by @azrielsdove

Playing With Fire 🥀🔥Azriel x Reader x Eris

by @cassiefromhell

Unexpected 💞🥀🔥Azriel x Reader x Eris

by @fieldofdaisiies

Late Again 🥀

Brother 🥀💞 no pairing

Falling 💞🌼

by @azrielsoulmate

Covered in you 💞

by @cupidojenphrodite

Morning After 🔥

by @acourtofwhatthefuck

Loose Lips 🥀🔥

by @thelov3lybookworm

Remember me? (series) 💞🥀 from Rhysand x Reader to Eris x Reader

Bloodshed 🥀💞

Not what I expected 🥀💞🌼

by @fineghkst

How Eris acts around his mate 💞

by @ladyescapism

fractured bonds 🥀

by @clairebear08

Woven 🥀

Use Me 🔥

by @historiaxvanserra

If I Can't Have Love, I Want Power 🥀🌼

I Am Not a Martyr, I'm a Problem

by @shadowdaddies

Autumn's Eden 💞

Bramble 💞

by @azrielslightintheshadows

Fake love. 🥀

by @crypticandmachiavellianaugustine

Sweet Nothings 💞🌼

by @readychilledwine

Death of Peace of Mind 🥀🔥🌼

Safe Haven 💞

Relief

Unconditional 💞

Leap 💞🌼

Kissed By Fire

Lapcat 🔥

Pack Mentality 💞

Tainted Love 🥀

by @throneofsmut

Bound In Flames (series) 🥀💞🔥

by @parkerslatte

Overlooked 🥀🌼

Warm Me Up 💞🔥

by @prythianpages

Like An Angel 💞

Cruel, Wicked Thing

by @saphirered

Frozen lake 🔥💞

by @thehighladywrites

Professor Eris 🥀💞🔥

by @thevanserrras

Breaking Point 🥀

Den of Foxes 🥀💞

Happy Equinox at Last 💞

Wake Up 🥀💞 Azriel x Reader x Eris

Petty 🥀💞

by @secret-third-thing

Never An Honest Word 🥀 no pairing

by @nocasdatsgay

From the Ashes, the Wildflowers Grow (series) 🥀💞🔥🌼

by @lucienforhighking

Hounds of Love 💞

Dancing 💞🔥

by @callmeblaire

when fire and ice dance

by @moonlightazriel

Symphonies 💞

When no one hears your calls 🥀💞

by @sellyoursoulforagoodfic

Monstrous Secrets 🥀💞

by @florencemtrash

Flame, Shadow, Beast 🥀💞 Azriel x Reader x Eris

by @serpentandlily

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny (series) 🌼

Last Solstice 🥀💞🌼

by @fever-fluff

Unconditional

by @yearning-for-autumn

Would That I

[novaursa]

hello !! i hope ur doing amazing and i wanted to say how much i rlly enjoy reading ur work like its always amazing and just MWAH chef’s kiss fr fr !!

do you think you can do a short writing for either aemond or aegon and how they betray their mother and grandsire for the reader <3 ! sorry if it’s not detailed this is my first time requesting 😔💕

oh and if u can’t i completely understand bookie !!

Broken by War

- Summary: When his mother and grandsire declare you a threat to be rid off, Aemond betrays his family for you.

- Pairing: niece!reader/Aemond Targaryen

- Note: The reader is the daughter of Rhaenyra and is bonded with Vermithor.

- Rating: Mature 16+ (just to be safe)

- Next Part: 2

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The pressure in the small council chamber was stifling, every member seated at the long, dark table focused on the map sprawled before them. A heavy silence blanketed the room as Dowager Queen Alicent’s voice echoed through the stone walls, calm but insistent.

"We must strike at Rook’s Rest," she said, her eyes glinting with determination. "Vermithor is a threat that grows with each passing day. We cannot allow her to roam free."

Otto Hightower, standing at her side, nodded in agreement. "Rhaenyra has grown too bold. Your niece wields too much power with that dragon. Vermithor must be neutralized, Aemond. Only Vhagar has the strength to bring the beast down, and only you have the will to do what must be done."

Aemond sat at the far end of the table, silent until now, his one violet eye fixated on the map. His jaw clenched as the voices of his mother and grandfather droned on, discussing tactics to trap her. You. The only person he had loved, the one who haunted his dreams and memories of youth. 

The very mention of your name, though unsaid, sent a ripple of heat through his chest. His gaze shifted from the map to Alicent, then to Otto, as they spoke of you and Vermithor as mere obstacles—just another enemy to be destroyed. 

But you were not a mere enemy. You were his niece, the daughter of Rhaenyra, and the girl who had once shared moments of innocent laughter with him. Before the war, before the bloodshed, before the divide of loyalties had driven them to opposite sides of this cursed Dance. How could they expect him to harm you?

A sharp crack split the air. The sound of his fists slamming against the table reverberated through the chamber, startling everyone into silence. Alicent and Otto turned, eyes wide, as Aemond rose from his seat, his face a mask of anger and resolve.

“I will not harm her.” His voice was low, dangerous, shaking with barely contained fury. “I will not harm my niece.”

“Aemond,” Alicent said softly, her brow furrowing as she reached out a hand as if to calm him. “She is a threat. You must understand—”

“No,” Aemond snapped, cutting her off. His gaze burned as he turned on them. “You expect me to kill her? To kill the one person I have loved since we were children? Vermithor is no more a threat than Vhagar is. And Y/N—she is not the enemy you make her out to be.”

Otto’s face remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something dark in his eyes. “She rides a dragon that is an old menace. Rhaenyra and her supporters will stop at nothing to see the end of this war, even if it means your death. You know this, Aemond. Only you can put an end to this before she burns the realm to ash.”

Aemond’s gaze flicked back to the map, the cold stone beneath his hands, and then to the faces of those who had shaped his life, who had molded him into a weapon. But not for this. Not against you. His chest heaved with barely contained emotion as the weight of everything pressed down on him—his duty, his family, his love for you.

Slowly, he shook his head, his voice low but firm. “No. I will not do it.”

“Aemond,” Alicent’s voice sharpened, desperation edging into it. “Where are you going?”

Aemond had already turned, his long coat sweeping the floor as he strode toward the door, each step heavy with purpose. He didn’t look back as he answered, the words cutting through the air like a blade. “I am going to Dragonstone. I will kneel before Y/N and Rhaenyra. I will beg for their forgiveness. For everything. For Lucerys.”

There was a stunned silence in the room as the weight of his words settled. Otto’s voice cut through the quiet, sharp as steel. “They will kill you the moment you set foot on Dragonstone, Aemond.”

Aemond paused at the door, his hand on the cold iron handle, and turned to face them. His eye gleamed with a fierceness that made Alicent flinch. “Then let them. I would rather die at her hand than live knowing I betrayed her.”

He left without another word, his footsteps echoing through the stone corridors, each one bringing him closer to you and the fate he had chosen. The weight of his family’s expectations, of the crown’s demands, fell away with each step. In its place, only one thing remained—his love for you and the need to right the wrongs that had torn them apart.

As he mounted Vhagar, he knew there was no turning back. His path was set, and for once, it was a path he chose for himself.

[morganaawriterr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Chapter 01;

— Your Sweet Love

Synosis: In a marriage born out of convenience and plagued by bitterness, You and Sunghoon find yourselves trapped in a cycle of cold indifference and unspoken resentment. Your quiet strength and tender care begin to reach the heart Sunghoon has so carefully guarded. Slowly, walls built from years of hurt and mistrust start to crumble, revealing a shared loneliness neither had acknowledged. With every tentative step toward connection, your hearts yearn for a closeness you’ve long denied yourself selves, leaving both to wonder if you can build something real from the ashes of your forced bond.

Navigation: Intro - 01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 Pairing: fem!reader X husband!Park Sunghoon Genre: Arranged Marriage trope; Angst; Fluff; Sexual themes; Warnings: cursing, mention of pills (some are drugs); abuse; mentions of blood; sexual content; injuries; heavy themes; juicy tension ;) Music: Listen to 'nevertheless ost' and 'the trunk ost'!! Disclaimer: This story is fiction, and it does not reflect real life in any way. This story is heavily inspired by the kdrama 'The Trunk' on Netflix but with a special twist! Words: 4.4k - New Chapter Every Saturday!!

A/n: It's finally here, im going to pass out HAHA. I'm so freaking excited!! I've been working very hard on this!! I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it!! Thank you for all the love and support. It means everything to me <3

You've always wanted to get married, thinking deep love and closeness between lovers were all you needed. House chores wouldn’t seem so bad with a loving partner by your side, and fights wouldn’t matter much because, in the end, all that mattered was that you loved each other.

But when you married Sunghoon, that idealized vision of marriage was flushed away. You understood why you agreed to this, but you wished you hadn’t. Nevertheless, it was too late to harbor regrets. Your eyes wandered to the stove, where the kimchi soup was finishing its slow boil. Without meaning to, your thoughts drifted back to your wedding day. Your body tensed at the memory, still so vivid and raw.

The ceremony was beautiful, but it was meaningless. The creative team had chosen blue as the theme color, a perfect match for the day’s melancholy. As you stood before the mirror fixing your braided bun, a single tear escaped, sliding down your cheek. Your chest burned with a dull ache, your heart feeling as though it were being crushed.

You knew this marriage was a necessity—a way out of the life you were desperately trying to leave behind. But it felt wrong. Wearing such a beautiful gown for a union built on fake pretense. As your unsteady hands adjusted the lace of your mermaid-style wedding dress, the door creaked open behind you.

“Are you ready, Hun?” Sunghoon’s mother asked, standing in the doorway with a gentle smile.

As if sensing your turmoil, she stepped closer, wrapping you in a warm hug. “It will get better, I promise,” she said softly, her gaze filled with compassion.

You nodded, managing a faint, forced smile before taking her hand and guiding her out to join Sunghoon’s father. He was a tall man with an air of dominance, his face stern as he checked his gold wristwatch. Hearing your footsteps, he looked up, his features softening slightly. Offering his arm with unexpected gentleness, he led you to the ceremony.

The luxurious hall was lined with guests who rose to their feet, clapping as you made your way down the aisle. You didn’t recognize most of them, apart from your mother, seated at the back with an indifferent expression. She hadn’t supported this arrangement but came to maintain appearances for a friend. Your hands trembled as you walked, the thick atmosphere making it hard to breathe.

And then you saw him—Sunghoon. He stood tall, his black tailored suit fitting perfectly, exuding elegance. The small Prada pin softly shone under the light, showing off his expensive taste. His dark eyes, behind thin-framed glasses, avoided yours entirely. He never once glanced your way. Even when it came time to exchange vows, his gaze remained somewhere behind you.

A sudden noise pulled you back to the present. You peeked into the hallway to see Sunghoon putting on his shoes.

“Are you leaving already?” you asked, concern shaping your voice as your eyes settled on his pale, weary face.

“Yes,” he replied coldly.

“What about lunch? I was just—”

“I’m not hungry,” he interrupted, his tone hard. Grabbing his briefcase, he left without another word, the door clicking shut behind him.

You closed your eyes and took a shaky breath, forcing back the tears welling in your eyes. Slowly, you returned to the kitchen, where the aroma of kimchi soup lingered. With a quiet sigh, you turned off the stove and poured yourself a small serving, the familiar smell offering a faint comfort.

Sitting down at the dining table, you reached for the bowl of purple rice and began to eat in silence. Sunlight filtered through the open blinds, casting a warm glow across the room as though trying to console you. But it was short-lived. The memories of your wedding night came rushing back, unbidden and sharp.

It was past midnight. Everyone was drinking and enjoying dessert as you and your husband sat together at the main table. Besides you, Sunghoon was completely drunk—yelling and punching the table whenever his glass was empty, scolding the servers for not noticing he wanted more wine, and calling them slow and stupid.

Your eyes stayed focused on your plate, where a carefully made tiramisu sat—your husband’s favorite. You couldn’t bring yourself to eat. Your head was pounding, and it was still hard to breathe. Abruptly, Sunghoon stood up and started walking, disappearing into the vast corridors of the restaurant. His steps were unsteady, causing him to bump into a server and a large flowerpot.

Sunghoon’s mother glanced at you, and her silent look said everything. You stood on sore feet and followed him, moving slowly as you tried to figure out where he was going. Sunghoon slipped into a random room, and after waiting for a moment, you knocked gently and opened the door.

Inside the dimly lit space, you found your new husband swallowing two small white pills. When he noticed your presence, the anger he had been suppressing finally snapped.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Sunghoon spat bitterly.

“I was just checking on you. You can barely stand,” you explained, quietly closing the door behind you.

You took a cautious step toward him, but Sunghoon immediately stood and moved away, keeping his distance. He couldn’t stand you—or your fake smile, as if this were some perfect wedding.

“Get the fuck away from me,” he said sharply when you tried to reach out, intending only to fix his crooked tie.

“Sunghoon, you don’t have to be like this,” you said softly, your voice already trembling as warm tears began to well in your eyes.

Sunghoon laughed—a cold, mocking sound that echoed in the room and in your head.

“You’re so fucking pathetic and naive,” he sneered. “What were you expecting, huh? That I’d be thankful you agreed to marry me? Don’t pretend you didn’t get something out of this proposal. You’re nothing but a fucking opportunist.”

His words felt like a slap across the face, but you held your ground. Sunghoon stepped closer than he ever had before, his breath reeking of alcohol and his cheeks painted in a deep shade of red.

“Sunghoon, I’m your wife. You respect me!” you snapped, your voice shaking with anger.

He let out another bitter laugh. Running a hand through his dark hair, looking you in the eyes for the first time that night.

“I will never, never, you hear me?” He said, stepping closer to you again. “I will never kiss you, hold you, or fuck you. No matter what you try, I will never touch you. I will never be yours.”

The venom in his voice left you numb. Before you realized what you were doing, you shoved him back, your hands trembling with rage and frustration. Your body felt like it was burning, and the tears you’d been holding back fell freely.

“I’m not here to seduce you,” you said quietly, pointing a finger at him. The tears streamed down your face as you added, “Do you think I want anything from you? Mr. so rich yet so addicted to pills that he can’t function like a normal human being.” Your voice trembled with rage as the words tumbled out.

Your eyes locked with Sunghoon’s. His gaze, dark and intense sent your pulse racing. You wanted to scream back, to cut him as deeply as he had cut you. But you refused to be like him. Without another word, you turned and left, slamming the door behind you.

As you put another spoon of the soup in your mouth, you realize that you are crying. The salty taste of your tears mixed with the soup you were eating. Sunghoon wasn’t as cruel or angry as he used to be—not anymore. Now he was distant and cold. You knew his pain was rooted in a past relationship, but he wouldn’t let you in to help him overcome it.

Feeling like you couldn’t eat another bite, you got up and began tidying the kitchen. The quiet rhythm of cleaning helped the time pass, and you were grateful for the distraction. You hated how big, empty, and silent his house felt. After finishing in the kitchen, you decided to go check up on his room.

You climbed the spiral staircase, your footsteps echoing in the vast space, and then you entered his bedroom. The moment you opened the door, his expensive cologne enveloped you.

You moved around the large room, opening the windows to let in fresh air. His bed wasn’t messy, so it didn’t take long to straighten the covers. Once everything was in order, curiosity pulled you toward his dressing room.

The space was tall rather than long, impeccably organized, and spotless—just like Sunghoon. As you wandered further inside, your eyes landed on the mannequin at the center of the room. It was bare. A small smile touched your lips. Slowly, but surely, you were helping him open up to you.

The night eventually came, and you found yourself eating the leftovers from lunch alone in the kitchen. You had just finished washing up, so your black hair was still damp and wrapped in a towel. A random show played on the TV, and while you weren’t paying much attention to it, you appreciated the company it gave you.

Then you heard his footsteps. Sunghoon usually took his time coming inside—removing his trainers and setting down his backpack slowly—but tonight, the sounds were different; they seemed rushed. Soon, he appeared in the hallway, catching a glimpse of you quietly eating.

“Hey, how was your day? Do you want me to make you something to eat?” you asked, getting up and walking toward the large man.

Sunghoon didn’t respond; his exhausted eyes fixed on you. As you approached, he didn’t step away. Though he still didn’t fully trust you, part of him hoped you’d understand how he felt just by looking at him.

And you did. Your eyes carefully studied his face, noting the loneliness etched into his features. The dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes, the slight flush on his nose and lips—it all pointed to one thing. But instead of pressing him with questions, you silently reached up to help him untie his tie. Your fingers moved slowly and deliberately, working on the knot with practice.

Sunghoon was both confused and relieved. He didn’t want to explain why he felt so sad—he didn’t want to hurt you with the truth. As he watched your focused expression, your eyes so big and fixated on the task, he couldn’t help but find you… adorable. The faint scent of vanilla from your body lotion drifted up, sweet and comforting—just like you.

“I’ll run the shower for you,” you said softly, a gentle smile gracing your lips. “When you’re done, you can join me in the living room. We can share a beer and watch TV.”

Without waiting for a reply, you turned and headed to his bathroom to prepare the shower.

After a long, warm shower, Sunghoon stood awkwardly in the arched entryway of the living room. His damp hair clung to his forehead, and he wore a simple black T-shirt and sweatpants. You didn’t notice him at first, too engrossed in the basketball game playing on the screen. But out of the corner of your eye, you saw him.

“Here, you can sit down. I’m just watching this game,” you said, tossing him a can of beer.

Sunghoon caught it with ease, a faint, gentle smile tugging at his lips as he took a moment to admire you. Your hair was still a little wet, dampening the collar of your shirt. You wore an oversized T-shirt and shorts, but what really caught his attention was something he’d never seen you wear before: big, square-shaped glasses perched on your nose. They made you look undeniably cute.

Realizing where his thoughts had wandered, Sunghoon shook his head slightly and moved to the couch, sitting on the opposite end from you. He popped open the beer, took a sip, and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the soft pillow of the sofa.

The next morning, when Sunghoon woke up, he felt slightly better. Despite taking his usual sleeping pills, he had fallen asleep faster and slept more soundly. In his mind, it was all because of you and your idea, so he started joining you in the living room every day.

He couldn’t quite understand how you seemed to know him so well, despite him never opening up to you, but he was grateful.

For the next few weeks, Sunghoon settled into a routine: joining you in the living room, drinking a beer, and staying by your side until you grew tired and went to bed.

What fascinated him the most was the way you always respected his space—letting him sit in silence when he needed it or patiently answering his questions about the match when he felt talkative. You were always patient and considerate, even in the face of his coldness.

Over time, Sunghoon began to see you differently. You weren’t as naive or opportunistic as he’d first thought. You were kind, thoughtful, and kind of sweet.

Tonight was no different. You were curled up at the corner of the sofa, your legs stretched out on the comfy cushions. Your large eyes were glued to the game on TV, the screen’s reflection glinting off your glasses. The scent of your perfume lingered in the room, distracting Sunghoon and making it hard for him to focus on the match.

“Did you know I hate basketball?” Sunghoon asks, drawing your attention as you glance at him briefly.

“I know you do,” you respond with a shy smile, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I just don’t know why.”

Sunghoon stays silent for a few moments, debating whether he should tell you. His gaze drifts to your face, studying your expression. Your eyes remain locked on his, a calm and gentle look etched on your features.

“Well…” he begins, shifting his focus back to the TV. “My dad made me play basketball when I was younger and forced me to quit ice skating. He said ice skating was ‘too girly’ and that I needed to man up.” Sunghoon’s voice is steady, but his eyes stay fixed on the television. "Ice skating was my passion and he took it away from me. I was young and it confused me so much..."

Your gaze, however, never wavers from his face. You notice how hesitant he seems to meet your eyes. You understand this is a sensitive topic, and a small wave of relief washes over you, knowing he trusts you enough to share it.

“I’ve hated basketball ever since. Well, until a few weeks ago, I guess. Now, I can’t sleep without coming here to watch you watch a game.” His words bring a proud smile to your lips.

“See? I’m such a good wife. I make you face your fears,” you tease, a playful grin spreading across your face as your eyes remain on his.

He doesn’t respond, simply leaning back against the pillow and letting out a deep breath. Sensing he needs space now, you quietly shift your attention back to the screen, giving him the room to process.

Yawning, Sunghoon, reached for his phone, only to see no new messages. She hadn’t replied to him today—not that he’d called, only texted. Frustrated, he tossed the phone onto the coffee table and leaned back, closing his eyes. Soon, his thoughts were clouded with memories of his ex-fiancée.

She’d been a good friend when they first started dating, always supportive and caring when he was feeling down. But as the relationship progressed, she became more controlling. At first, Sunghoon thought it was normal—maybe she was just trying to protect him. So he went along with it. He let her tell him to change his clothes when she thought he looked “too good.”

Sunghoon, a simple man who had grown up starved for love due to a lack of parental affection. He fell deeply in love with her, mainly because she was the only one giving him the attention he needed. So, blinded by his feelings, he failed to notice how much control she was beginning to exert over his life.

First, she forbade him from going out with his male friends. Then he wasn’t allowed to drink unless she was around. Eventually, she started going through his phone. Sunghoon didn’t see a problem with any of it—he had nothing to hide, and he was so in love that he couldn’t see anyone but her.

When they got engaged, Sunghoon and his fiancée moved in with his father. The house was massive and soulless, drained of warmth and happiness after his mother left. His father wanted Sunghoon close by to teach him about managing the family business, so the arrangement seemed ideal.

When his mother found out that Sunghoon was living in her old home, she decided she would visit occasionally to check on him. She knew how difficult his father could be.

One day, when she arrived, she was greeted by the sound of shouting. Her heart raced as she rushed toward the bustling scene, fearing the worst.

What she saw left her horrified. Sunghoon’s fiancée had just slapped him across the face. The old woman felt sick to her stomach, tears forming in her eyes as she stormed into the kitchen.

“What is going on here?” she demanded, her voice stern and echoing off the walls.

Neither of them answered. Sunghoon stared at his feet, his right cheek stinging from the slap. He should have been angry, but all he felt was fear—fear of what his lover might say or do.

“Nothing. I was being controlling, and she just defended herself,” Sunghoon finally muttered, his voice barely audible, his eyes refusing to meet his mother’s.

She didn’t believe him. She had already noticed how that woman carried herself around the house, acting as though she owned it. Her posture was always stiff, her chin held high, and her words—sharp and venomous—always seemed to pierce through Sunghoon, planting doubts in his mind and making him believe them.

But before his mother could say another word, Sunghoon grabbed his fiancée’s hand and pulled her out of the kitchen. As he left, he caught a glimpse of his mother’s worried expression but chose to ignore it.

Sunghoon opens his eyes suddenly and notices you still leaning against the sofa, your attentive gaze fixed on the screen as the game unfolds. He picks up his beer, taking another sip, but his attention suddenly shifts to you. The way you always treat him so gently unsettles him. You're always there—helping with his clothes, making him food, offering your company. He doesn’t like to dwell on it, but the affectionate way you look at him makes him wonder why he’s been so distant and harsh toward you.

You don’t deserve it.

As if she somehow sensed his thoughts about you, Sunghoon’s phone lights up with a message from his ex-fiancée. She casually explains that she’s been busy—on a date. She spares no details, ensuring he knows everything. From the red dress she wore to the perfume she used, and even the sex she had with the man afterward. Sunghoon’s eyes grow watery as he reads it, hating the way she always twists the knife.

“You know, you can always put your phone in sleep mode,” you replied playfully, taking a sip of your beer.

“What?” Sunghoon asks, his attention snapping to your face.

“Didn’t you wake up because of the notification sounds?” you ask, your brows knitting together in genuine curiosity.

“Oh…” Sunghoon murmurs. “Wait, I was sleeping?” he asks, confused—he hadn’t taken his pills yet.

You give him a puzzled look in return. “Yes, you were even snoring,” you tease, shifting your gaze back to the screen to hide a laugh.

“I don’t snore!” Sunghoon protests, annoyed, but as soon as he catches the mischievous smile on your lips, he softens. Realizing you’re just teasing him, he can’t help but chuckle.

You don’t say anything else, simply adjusting your glasses and returning your attention to the match. But Sunghoon’s gaze lingers on you, burning holes into your frame as he stares without shame. You shift slightly, straightening your back and subtly pushing out your chest—just enough to give him something nice to look at.

Sunghoon doesn’t even realize he’s staring until he becomes aware of the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as you breathe. The shirt you’re wearing today is more revealing than usual, offering him a glimpse of your bare cleavage. As if that weren’t enough, the sweet scent of your perfume fills his senses again, leaving him utterly mesmerized.

He leans back against the pillow and closes his eyes, trying to banish the thoughts of you from his mind—your pleading eyes, your intoxicating scent, your undeniably beautiful face. Before he realizes it, his body relaxes, and he falls asleep once more, this time with you on his mind.

After a few minutes of silence, you glance to your side, only to find Sunghoon snuggled up on the sofa, his lips softly pouting as he sleeps peacefully. A small smile creeps onto your face at the sight, glad that he’s finally found rest.

The reason you invited him to spend time in the living room with you, was to help him establish a routine and eventually fall asleep naturally—without needing his pills.

Sunghoon thought you didn’t know about them, but you did. Some of those pills weren’t just regular sleeping aids. They were a mysterious drug that might make him sleep, but they gave him restless nights and vivid nightmares. The worst part being, he seemed to be addicted to them. You’d first noticed it when, one night, you caught him wandering the house, unable to sleep with just the usual pills.

Getting up from your seat, you search for a fluffy blanket and gently drape it over him. You hope he’ll stay on the sofa all night—a sign that his sleeping habits might finally be improving.

As you walk toward your bedroom, your thoughts drift to where he could have gotten those pills. And you silently pray that your suspicions are wrong.

The next morning, you woke up feeling energized and positive. Driven by a craving for something salty and delicious, you got out of bed and headed straight to the kitchen.

Soft music played in the background as you cooked, your body swaying slightly to the rhythm while you happily prepared breakfast.

As you turned around to start washing some plates, you jumped slightly, startled to find Sunghoon standing against the door frame. There was a different look in his eyes as he examined you—your revealing shirt from yesterday still on your skin, attracting his eyes like a magnet.

Then, after sniffing the new aroma in the air, his curious eyes moved past you, focusing on the stove to check what you were cooking.

He had woken up to the gentle sound of the music and the smell of freshly made food. The things between you seem to be going alright, so he thought he might try joining you for breakfast this morning.

Your cheeks flushed red under his intense gaze, unaccustomed to receiving this much attention from him.

“Good morning,” Sunghoon said, his deep, teasing voice carrying a hint of playfulness as a small smile tugged at his plump lips.

Not used to speaking with him in the morning, his raspy voice caught you off guard. “Good morning, Sunghoon,” you replied with a soft smile.

As you set the side dishes on the table, Sunghoon’s eyes remained on the food. It must have taken you at least two hours to prepare all this, and he was quietly impressed by your effort and dedication.

When you finally sat down next to him at the table, you noticed his phone light up with notifications—three times, to be exact. Whoever was texting seemed insistent.

“You’re going to keep ignoring that?” you asked, curious, as you scooped a spoonful of rice into your mouth.

Sunghoon gave you a brief, questioning look, his thick left eyebrow arching. When you met his gaze, he quickly looked away and continued eating.

“I don’t feel like responding,” he said suddenly after a stretch of silence.

You rolled your eyes and slid his phone closer to his hand.

“What if it’s something important?” you asked, half-concerned, half-curious to see his reaction.

Sunghoon picked up his phone but ignored your question. His long fingers tapped on the screen quickly, and you averted your gaze, not wanting to seem like you were staring.

<Aren’t you going to say anything? Yesterday, from: true wife>

<Hey, don’t leave me hanging, Hubby!! Yesterday, from: true wife>

<Good morning to you too. Is everything okay? Today, from: true wife>

<You’ve been more distant lately… Today, from: true wife>

Sunghoon sighed as he read the texts, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. He couldn’t understand why she was suddenly so desperate for his attention.

After a deep breath, he quickly typed a response: I’m okay. I’ve just been busier, that’s all.

Once sent, he locked his phone and pushed it aside. Right now, his focus was on how he would manage to eat all the delicious food you’d prepared.

“These tastes exactly like my mom used to make!” Sunghoon exclaimed, his mouth full, and eyes sparkling with joy as he looked at you.

“I know,” you replied with a sly smile, your tone implying something else.

Sunghoon turns his head to face you, giving you a confused look, his eyebrows knitting together. But you avoid his gaze, keeping your eyes firmly fixed on the food on your plate. You have secrets too—secrets he has no idea.

Taglist: @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay @crimson-reaper576 @rikifever @mrsjjongstby @laurradoesloveu @babyboomysweetie @mintchocos-things @nxzz-skz @saphiranishimurashan @ikeupups @yangjungwonnie @xiiaobaoo @itsuen @laylasbunbunny @mellowgalaxystrawberry @firstclassjaylee @questionsdearreader @greeyjre @en-doll @riqomi @lovingvoidgoatee @mitmit01 @miuwonis @aureliaaaa555 @han-to-my-minho @heeweenie If you wanna be added or removed from the taglist just comment below!

[bamfkeeper]

Beautiful Devil

RQ: 'Hi, I have a request: a fic about NightcrawlerxFem!Reader, Beauty and the beast AU, starting it like the fairytale (Reader decide to sacrifice herself for her father because the scared man THINK the mysteriuos blue creature ask him to bring one of his daughters in his place). Maybe in the finale you can add the mob attacking the castle like in the episode of the '90 serie, with Graydon Creed guiding the mob (you can't look at that man and don't think he's a variant of Gaston). Just don't turn Kurt into a human, I love our fuzzy Elf. Thanks!' - @historygirl93

Warnings: F!reader, some violence, minor character death. Unedited.

A/N: I think this is a cute idea, I love the story. I don't see how Kurt could ever be viewed as 'beastly' he's too sweet. The fairytale is a longer story and involving all the details would take me a long time to write, so I did what I could to get the idea of the story across. I did my best, it was slightly challenging, and I changed just a few details just because I thought it would be better for the story.

WC: 2.2k

The village held such a prejudice against the blue demon who lived in the abandoned church. Rumors of yellow glowing eyes and a shadow with a devil's tail flicking in the dark, crawling on the walls like a hellish insect. A monster, the children of the village feared him just as much as the adults, whom had weapons ready to kill if he dared leave the cathedral.

Your father was highly religious. He wanted to banish the devil from the church once and for all, to purify the holy ground, but believed that only a sacrifice would satisfy the creature. You were horrified at first, being so helplessly given away as a sacrifice, you were the lamb that was about to be beheaded for no reason.

Upon being abandoned at the cathedral, surrounded by the harsh cold and snow, you thought you'd freeze to death. To your initial horror and surprise, the devil appeared. He flashed in front of you in black and purple smoke, like they rose from the ashes of Hell. You were far too tired and exhausted, so before you knew it, your body was wrapped and you were inside.

You felt the warmth of the fire inside the stone furnace, you sat up and watched the orange flames dance quietly while the blanket remained wrapped around your drenched form. The snow melted away and left you wet and still somewhat cold. But you were at least inside...

Once you regained enough bearings, you looked around for the devil, wondering where he was and what he was going to do to you. You felt fearful, your mind having heavy thoughts invading your mind of horrific treatment. While you searched the dark room, you saw his eyes peering to you from the darkest corner, tiny irises of gold staring through your soul.

"It's you..." your voice muttered out quietly, "You're the devil." Your hushed tone made him tilt his head slightly, he slowly walked around the wall, the far shadows hiding most of him.

"Nein...I am no Teufel..." he spoke back, his voice was even and not nearly as intimidating as you thought it would be. "I was born like this. But I am no demon." He stepped closer as he spoke to you, his appearance becoming more visible in the firelight. He had blue skin and sharp teeth like the villagers said, a long tail with a devil's spade, sharp nails and pointed ears...

"You look like one," you shakily retorted, still on edge of what his intentions were and you weren't about to fall victim without a fight. He only chuckled back, empty and somewhat...sad.

"I know."

He sat down near you, a few feet away, looking at you and slowly giving a smile, trying to be friendly. "I won't hurt you, I wouldn't ever." He paused, then continued, "Besides, a demon cannot step inside a church." He reasoned, holding out a three fingered hand to you. "Hab keine Angst."

You were cautious, but after seeing he wasn't nearly as horrifying as the town made him seem, you reached out and touched his hand. His skin was warm, he was fluffy. He felt like soft velvet, not like cold scaled skin you had been told was the skin of the devil.

Over the following weeks, you became closer to each other. You warmed up quickly after his efforts to try to appear not so scary, and once you spoke more often, he was actually very sweet and kind. You watched him feed birds and squirrels, holding the seeds in his palms and speaking to the birds as if they could understand him.

His favorites were the blue jays.

He showed you the cathedral, leading you through the massive church and showing you around. He showed you the library with lots of books along the walls, the studio where old paints and canvases were. He gave you plenty of things to do, and he provided you with good food, a large space to sleep, he treated you well. He was kind and sweet and...attractive.

You couldn't help but feel yourself get pulled towards him. Feel yourself get swept up by his chivalry and charm. He showed off in front of you, entertaining you with his skills as an acrobat and swordsman, he even let you try to swing one of his swords.

It was much heavier than you thought, making his skills all the more impressive.

You got word that your father had fallen very ill, and you wanted to see him. Kurt didn't want you to leave, scared you'd never return again. He held your hands and looked at you in the eye, his worry etched on his face. "You won't abandon me, will you?" he asks softly, "I don't wish for you to go..." he brings your hand up to his cheek, rubbing his face into your palm.

Your heart melts and you sigh, "I promise I'll come back. I just...want to make sure my father is okay..." you whisper back. You knew how he felt, being abandoned was one of his biggest fears. All he had been in his life was abandoned, by his mother, this town, sometimes he felt as though God himself has abandoned him.

With great reluctance, he let go and you rushed back into the village, desperate to see your sickly father. You were still angry he left you to die, but he was still your father. When you made it back, you came to his bedside and saw how terrible he looked. You had no idea what he had, but he looked on the verge of death.

Word got loose that you were in the town, somehow surviving the 'demon' who resided in the abandoned church. The town's greatest 'champion,' Graydon, nearly stormed up to your home and forced his way in. His voice loud and demanding, he as angry and furious with you.

The vile man had attempted to court you before. You always denied him. Why would you want to be with someone as crude and hateful as Graydon?

"How did you escape that wretched demon?" he demanded, yanking you from your father's bedside. He held your arm tight and stared at you with fury in his eyes. "That beastly creature will invade our town because of you! You were his sacrifice! Leaving signifies that the deal is broken! You've doomed all of us!"

Your eyes were wide as he basically screamed in your face, his cool was gone and he looked like he wanted to hurt you. You tugged against his strong hold, grunting as you tried to get free. "He's not a monster, or a demon! He's just a man!" You shouted back, "He's kind, gentle, he wouldn't hurt a soul!"

Graydon laughed at you, yanking you closer again. "You are lucky you are pretty, girl...you are such a naïve little thing. That devil is evil, and you have succumbed to his incubi ways. Don't worry, I'll make sure I fix that little head of yours up and rid you of the corruption he has brought upon you."

He threw you down, you hit your head and everything became a hazy mess. You heard his footsteps leave, his heavy boots hitting the old wooden floors with anger. You tried to lift yourself up, but you hit your head too hard. The world was spinning around you, but you didn't want any harm to come to Kurt. Graydon was as ruthless as he was egotistical, and he was dead set on murdering Kurt. He always had been, telling tall tales of cutting off his head and hanging it over the statue in town square.

You could hear his voice, rallying the town and heading up the treacherous path to the abandoned cathedral. You felt your heart ache, your body fading to unconsciousness from the injury.

When you regained consciousness, your body ached but the thought of Graydon already at the church gave you a newfound form of energy. You jerked up, your father had been too weak and sick to help, while you worried for him, the memory of him giving you up to die was there. You had to make a choice, and your heart had been decided.

You needed to get to the church.

You stumbled out to the stables, your body staggering as your brain felt fuzzy and heavy. You probably had a concussion, but right now that wasn't important. You didn't have a horse of your own, you prayed that the one you made it to wouldn't buck you off. The stallion let out a soft nicker, you rubbed its neck, your hand weakly holding onto the mane and you forced your body to mount.

The horse moved a few steps, adjusting to your weight. No saddle, it'll have to do.

You squeezed your legs and held on, the horse moved forward and with your encouragement it began a steady gallop through the trail that led up to the church. The horse was fast and bareback was hard for you to hold on, especially with a head injury. the horse sensed your wavering weight and tried to steady its run.

Over the hill was the church, and the stallion ran you right inside the broken down doors. You heard loud shouting, men fighting, and the sight that came to view was horrible.

Most of the men were down, unconscious, and Graydon was shooting arrows at Kurt, who had been disappearing in puffs of smoke, reappearing in other places. His yellow eyes blazed and he hissed at Graydon, landing kicks and punches to the larger man. You shouted at them to stop, but your voice fell on deaf ears.

The torches the other men had been carrying caught the tapestries and the flames eagerly began to eat the fabric and grow. The horse reared up, and you fell off its back as it ran out of the church. You sat up and cried out at Graydon, "Stop it! Don't hurt him! Can't you see what you're doing?!"

Kurt's teleporting soon became predictable, Graydon memorized the pattern and he shot an arrow into Kurt's leg right as he reappeared again. Kurt let out a strangled cry, stumbling from the beams and to the ground. By now the flames had consumed the entire room, smoke became thick and Graydon towered over Kurt's body. His eyes reflecting the fire, his face red and his hair a mess. He looked like the devil now, the fire only adding to his hellish desires to smite out Kurt's existence.

"Die, I cast you down to the pits of Hell where you belong!" Graydon tore a blade from his sheath, raising it above his head. But Kurt's eyes were focused on the burning wood above him, and he managed to teleport from that spot right as the wooden beams fell from the ceiling. Kurt reappeared by you, his fuzzy arms wrapped around yours as he teleported you outside. The last thing you saw in the church were the large beams falling onto Graydon's body, crushing him.

When you reappeared outside, you saw Kurt was hurt from the fight. He had two arrows in his body, one in his leg and one in his back, several lacerations from fighting the others and some parts of him had been burned. He let out a deep cough and he laid beside you, unresponsive.

"Kurt?? Kurt! Wake up!" You shook him, gently at first but it became more frantic when you noticed his lack of response. "Please get up!" You felt tears prick your eyes, your head swiveled around, looking for anyone to help. You weren't sure what to do, you felt hopeless. After you thought he was gone, his tail twitched at your side, gently curling up around your thigh weakly.

"Kurt??" You asked quickly, glancing down at him. You could see the exhaustion on his face, the weakness, but he nodded back. He gave you a weak smile, his yellow eyes soft and pure.

"Liebe..." he whispered back, his hand held yours and he pulled you closer. Your body naturally obeyed and you let your lips find his, both weakly pressing together as the two of you kissed for the first time. It felt so right, his hand cupped your face and his tail wrapped around you, being so weak but loving all at the same time.

You hadn't noticed the other townspeople had been watching from the trees, seeing how gentle and sweet you were to him. They could see that Kurt didn't resemble a creature of Hell like they thought, while he did seem odd looking, he didn't look to be horrific as they predicted. Their imaginations took over and the tall tales took over their logic.

When you broke the kiss, he smiled up at you. "You....came back..." he rasped, he was hurt still, but he was okay. He'd live. That's all you needed to know.

"Of course I came back...I told you I would..." you whispered sweetly, guilt gnawed at your core, "If I hadn't left then..."

Kurt cut you off, shushing you, "Nein, liebe...do not worry...the church can be rebuilt...I am going to be fine. What's another small scar? My fur will cover it anyway." He added, giving you a playful smile.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, "Oh, Kurt...don't make me laugh right now..." You muttered, some of the onlookers came to aid you in bringing him to the town to get treatment from the doctor there. You knew he'd be okay. The awful stories were debunked and the town appeared to accept him.

You had your love, safe and sound, and the real demon of the town had been snuffed to ash.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[jacquitries]

hi! Could you write something for Fred Weasley where his girlfriend saves him in the battle of Hogwarts but she almost dies?

A Love Worth Dying For | F.W.

Amid the chaos of the battle, a single moment changes everything, proving that even in the darkest of times, love shines brightest.

The bitter tang of ash clawed at your lungs as you tore through corridors littered with rubble, the din of battle crashing against your senses. The air shimmered with the crackle of spells, each ricochet carving wounds into ancient stone, and the wails of the wounded tangled with the roar of destruction, a symphony of chaos.

𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘

Your wand was a lifeline in your trembling grip, the polished wood slick with sweat. Somewhere in the storm of violence, Fred was out there, and the thought of his absence twisted in your chest like a dagger. You had fought together as long as you could, but the tide of war had swept him away, leaving you adrift, clinging to the desperate drive to find him.

A deep groan reverberated through the castle as stone shifted against stone, an explosion shaking the earth beneath your feet. You stumbled, catching yourself as your heart thundered against your ribs. “Fred,” you whispered, the name barely a breath against the cacophony. It was swallowed whole by the chaos, leaving you to chase it into the shadows.

A Death Eater emerged from the darkness, their mask a gleaming shard of malevolence in the dim light. Their wand rose, lips curling around a curse, but your instincts surged faster than thought. “Expulso!” The blast flung them into the wall, their body crumpling with a sickening finality. You didn’t linger. There was no time for mercy, no room for hesitation. Each step forward was a battle cry to fate.

Memories pulsed behind your eyes—Fred’s laughter like golden sunlight, the gleam of mischief forever dancing in his gaze, the warmth of his hand folded into yours. You clung to these moments like a shipwrecked soul clutching driftwood, unwilling to let the rising tide of darkness claim them.

And then, through the chaos, you saw him.

Fred stood in the distance, a flash of fiery hair amidst the shadows, his wand a blur as he dueled alongside George. Relief surged through you, stealing your breath, but the moment shattered when your gaze caught the glint of a wand aimed at Fred’s unguarded back.

Time slowed, the world narrowing to a single point. The sickly green glow of a Killing Curse tore through the air, and you were already moving, heart pounding like a war drum. “No!” The scream ripped from your throat, raw and desperate, as you flung yourself forward.

The shield charm burst from your wand. “Protego!” The impact hit like a tempest, a wave of raw energy that slammed you backward. A sharp and unyielding pain shot in your side while the edges of your vision blurred.

Somewhere beyond the haze, Fred’s panicked, aching cry broke through— “Y/N!” His hands were on you in an instant, trembling as they cradled you against him. The world spun, but his presence anchored you. “Why would you do that?! Why would you…” His voice cracked, and you could feel his grip falter.

Through the pain, you managed a weak smile, though it felt as fragile as glass. “Saving your reckless arse, obviously.” The words barely escaped your lips, a whisper against the roar of blood in your ears. Even so, it drew a laugh from Fred—a sound that trembled on the edge of a sob.

“You’re bloody unbelievable,” he said, his voice thick with relief.

“It takes one to know one,” you murmured, the effort of speaking threatening to pull you under. Your eyelids grew heavy with the pain lulling you toward oblivion.

“No, no, no,” Fred pleaded, his voice cracking as he shook you gently. “Stay with me, Y/N. You hear me? Stay with me.”

Your gaze locked on his face. The freckles scattered like constellations across his pale cheeks as his eyes glistening like shattered starlight. “Fred,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I—”

But the words dissolved into darkness, and the world slipped away.

When you woke, the air was quieter, thick with the scent of blood and healing potions. The Great Hall stretched around you, its grandeur transformed into a refuge of despair and hope. Low voices murmured, a fragile hymn in the aftermath of chaos.

Your vision cleared, and there he was. Fred sat beside you, his hand clutching yours as though to anchor you both to the world. Disheveled fiery hair framed his pale face. But as your eyes met his, relief instantly poured over his features like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

“You’re awake,” he breathed, his voice trembling with raw emotion.

“Barely,” you croaked. “What… what happened?”

Fred’s lips pressed into a tight line, his hand tightening around yours. “You nearly died,” he said, his voice cracking. “You jumped in front of a Killing Curse for me. Do you have any idea what that did to me? Seeing you like that?” He shook his head as his voice trailed off into a whisper.

You squeezed his hand, your grip faint but steady. “Worth it,” you whispered. Despite the tears brimming in his eyes, Fred let out a laugh. A sound tinged with relief and heartbreak.

“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice shaking. “Utterly impossible.”

Before you could respond, he reached into his pocket, and your breath caught. From the folds of his robe, he drew a small velvet box. Time seemed to still as he opened it, the flickering candlelight catching on the ring nestled within—a simple, radiant promise.

“I had a plan,” Fred said, his voice unsteady but resolute. “Something big, something grand. But tonight, I realized none of that matters. Not when I almost lost you. Not when every second without you feels unbearable.”

Tears blurred your vision as Fred knelt beside you, his hands trembling with the weight of the moment.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice breaking, “you are my light in the darkest night, my reason to fight, my everything. I can’t imagine a world without you. Will you marry me?”

The words shattered the pain and fear, leaving only love in their wake. A sob broke free as you nodded, your voice trembling. “Yes,” you whispered. “Yes, Fred. A thousand times, yes.”

Relief and joy transformed his face as he slipped the ring onto your finger, his touch reverent. He leaned down, his lips brushing your forehead, then your lips, sealing the promise with all the love in his heart.

“You’re stuck with me now,” he murmured, his voice lighter, though his eyes still glistened with tears.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you replied, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your cheeks.

The war loomed beyond the walls, its shadow dark and unrelenting. But in that moment, within the fragile sanctuary you and Fred had created, there was only light—a love fierce enough to defy the darkness.

[alieeelinn]

Sandwich | Tyler Hernandez x fem reader

Content: Tyler hernandez x reader

Summary: Tyler has been running errands for the whole day and just needs to rest for a bit

Warning(s): there's Tyler angst if you squint but this is just fluff, since it's my first post, I wanna be nice

A/n: the reader also goes to the phantom realm btw. This is my first post hope yall will like it! I kinda suck at writing though, but my requests are open if you feel like requesting, and if you do request it might be a while before I do it since I never know what school has in stock for me

Tyler had lost track on how long he had been running errands and chores for. He felt exhausted, and he still needed to study since mid terms were just around the corner. He sighed as he stared at the book and notebook infront of him.

Taylor went to Ash's place about 2 hours ago since they had a group project together. Tyler dropped his head on the desk and sighed, he let out groan and looked at the clock on the desk.

3:45

There was still a couple more hours before going back to the phantom realm. He didn't even realize that his eyes were closed until they shot open when he heard a knock on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows 'That's weird? Tay wouldn't be back in another hour or so' he stood up and opened the door to their shared bedroom.

Another knock was heard as Tyler mumbled some words under his breath "can't this person wait?" Another knock was heard and Tyler swore that if the person behind the door would knock one more time- "what?" all the anger that was bubbling in him faded as his face softened when he recognized the familiar face infornt of him.

"Hi Ty! Hope you dont mind me coming here without telling you" the girl let out a chuckle, and oh how Tyler would have loved to hear it again, it was like music to his ears a melody that he would chose to listen forever if he could "hope I didn't annoy you with knocking more than I should have" Little did she know that she did, but it was her so he didnt mind.

He stepped aside to let her in and closed the door once she was inside "before I went here I actually got some bread since I wanted to go to that new Bakery people were talking about, and I got us some cinnamon rolls to try!"

He watched her put the plastic bag on the dinner table as she took out the stuff she had bought. I raise my other eyebrow and looked at the different kinds of bread she was taking out "why did you get so many?" She responded with a simple 'hmn?' and put the plastic bag away once she took out all of the bread inside the bag.

I look back to Tyler once I put the empty plastic bag aside, and see him holding one of the loaf bread that i had bought. He lift his head up and looked at me as he rose both of his eyebrows waiting for an answer from his question, I let out a small chuckle as I went back to the dinner table "I wasn't planning on buying three, my original plan was to buy some cinnamon rolls and a plain loaf bread, but thenn"

He looked at me as I took the loaf bread out of his hand and took the other one from the table "I saw that they had different flavors" I lift my right hand and showed him, as if then - and only then he realized that the loaf breads didn't look the same "this one is purple yam and this one is cheese" I smiled at him as he shook his head.

"You still shouldn't have bought so many" I watch him pull a chair out for himself and sat down, as he dropped his head on the table, I cringe as I heard his head hit the table. I put the loaf breads down and walked to his side "You okay Ty?" I asked as I sat on the table and played with his hair.

Ever since his dad passed, he was responsible of taking care of his mom and sister he became the head of the house running errands and doing chores, all at such a young age, he was probably used to it but - he was still human. He eats, sleeps and breathes, he was no boy with super powers, he was just a child. A child that needed to be protected to be kept safe. He went through so much at such a young age, he didn't deserve any of that.

"How about we go sleep for a while hmn?" I continue to play with his hair as I wait for his response "we still have a few more hours before we go back to the phantom realm" He lift his head from the table and stared at me with tired eyes.

My eyes softened and my heart ached, it hurt to see him like this, I just wanted to hug him tight and tell him how much of a good job he's doing staying so strong for his family. He pulled me closer as he hugs my waist and rests his head on my lap, we stay like that for a few minutes in comfortable silence as I continue to play with his hair.

"Let's go to your room so you can properly rest hmn?" He squeezed my waist then let go as he lift his face from my lap, I hop off from the table and as if on que when Tyler was about to stand up from his seat, his stomach let out a sound.

...

I look at Tyler and laughed, he looked away clearly embarrassed of what just had happened "okay, okay - maybe you should eat first then we can go sleep" I took the four cinnamon rolls that i got earlier and went to the kitchen counter "do you want to try the cinnamon rolls now or do you want me to make you a sandwich?"

He stood up and walked up to me "sandwiches are fine" I smile at him and went to put the cinnamon rolls in the fridge "you can go sit down I'll make the sandwich" He rose an eyebrow at me and I scoff "goo, shooo" he let out a chuckle as I push him to go sit down.

I grabbed a plate from the cabinet to put the sandwich on and then took the plate and walked to Ty "here" I smile at him and placed it down, I pulled a chair out next to him and sat down - I looked back to Tyler and he looked at me with confusion on his face "what?" He made a face that said I had the nerve to ask him 'what?' "You didn't make one for yourself?"

I smile and lightly shook my head, to think he doesn't get the hint that I want to take care of him, that all he has to do right now is rest yet, he still cares and asks why I didn't make myself one "not hungry, I eat a few chips before I went here" He looked at me for a moment like he didn't want to believe me or was about to protest that I should eat.

"Ya know, you're making me look like I'm a greedy boyfriend that wouldn't care if their partner were starving"

I let out a dramatic gasp "I am not!" He smirks and I gave him a playful smile and rolled my eyes "just eat" he started eating as we told eachother about our day, well mostly me but I knew he didn't mind.

Once he was finished eating I took his plate and went to the sink to wash it, while I was washing the plate I'm the corner of my eye he leaned on the counter with his arms crossed as he watched me do such a simple task "what?" He gave me a soft smile and said nothing, I rinse off the soap on the plate and put it in the rack "Alright let's go?"

We went to Tyler and Taylor's shared bedroom as he went in and went to the upper bunk bed, I close the door and went up aswell, I crawled to the other side as he opened his arms as I went to lay down beside him, I let out a sigh as I close my eyes slowly drifting off to sleep.

"Thank you for making me a sandwich" he said softly almost a whisper as he pulls me closer, I hum in response as sleep overtakes the both of us.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hello~ I've been quite addicted to your writing for some time now and I thought I'd share a few thoughts 🤭🤭

How would the TWST guys react to having a F! S/o reader who's constantly Needy

(in a not so innocent way)

Preference for characters :

If multiple - Malleus, Riddle, Vil, Leona, Lillia (You don't have to do all)

If single - any of the above

- M. 🥀🦋

Needy Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

They’ve got you where they want you, in love with them and completely unaware of the spilt blood that’s made it possible. And married to them and your desire to return to your world nothing more than a distant dream now you can occupy yourself on more personal desires:

Malleus Draconia 

“Than as your husband I have no choice but to do satisfy my love’s needs!”

Eagerly fulfills your every wish and desire

Sexual or otherwise

Should you send a letter voice your intentions 

He’s actively warping space and time to get to you

And naturally anyone who disrupts this will be ash by the time he’s done

Riddle Rosehearts

“W-what?! Y-you n-need t-that n-now?! F-fine!”

This is what he gets for giving you those love potion infused teacakes

He’s not going to deny you

It is his fault after all

Why focus on duty when his priority is you anyway

So he’ll speed up trials with a simple ‘Off with their head!’  

To satisfy his rose’s desires

Hope you’re so engulfed in bliss that you don’t think about the many lives you’ve prematurely executed

Vil Schoenheit  

“Tsk tsk darling, you sound so desperate for me.”

How cruel is he

To pump you full of aphrodisiacs before his tour

He’ll instruct you over the phone 

He’s gotten you plenty of toys to deal with this exact situation

He’ll fly you out to him

forcing you to keep it together until he can properly deal with you

Just hols out til then

Leona Kingscholar

“Geez, if you’re so desperate do it yourself.”

He’s already exhausted himself 

But if you’re still so needy he’ll let you do things yourself

The views nice that’s for sure

But no matter how tired he is 

anyone who interrupts is prey 

Through and through

Lillia Vanrouge

“Aw you look so precious all-needy for me! Just wait until I finish torturing-er dealing with these vermin!”

He’s so proud you can keep up with him

But he needs a break 

So don’t mind the blood on his kitchen knife

But no worries years of experience give you both plenty of tools to satisfy

All so you both can be satisfied

[co-psycho]

Why doesn't anyone talk about Jean's height? he is 190 tall!!

He's so tall, my God! Could you write about this? and how does he use this to his advantage with his petite girlfriend?

I imagine Jean sitting his girlfriend on his lap while telling her how small she is!

I hope you write about it!! and sorry for the writing! English is not my native language

Jean kirstein and his petite girlfriend (female reader) extra smut hehe

Cw: oral sex, nipple play, sloppy kissing ;), edge play, dirty talk, light sub jean and light dom reader, can’t think of any other tags. (Reader is 151-167 cm, Jean is 190 cm)

a/n: y’all I had to think super hard about what it would be like being a petite girlfriend when having a giant boyfriend. Like.. I’m not petite like at all so it was a lot of “ research” to find my answer lmao. 175 gang where y’all at!!! Enjoy ☺️

Jean kirstein who bounces his petite girlfriend whenever she sits on his lap. “You look so small when you sit on my lap” he praises.

Jean kirstein who will walk up behind his petite girlfriend whenever she struggles to get an item from the top shelf. “What would you do without your 6’2 boyfriend” he teased.

Jean kirstein who gets hard when he feels the small of your ass rut against him who you can’t reach an object from the top shelf and asks for your help after with a cheeky smile.

Jean kirstein who will wrap his arms around your shoulder at any chance he gets claiming you as his.

Jean kirstein who will bend down whenever he can’t hear his petite girlfriend speak loud enough in loud area.

Jean kirstein who gave you a hug after your first date and you had to go on your tippy toes to hug him back and he’s been obsessed since the first time you did it.

Jean kirstein who will slap and grab the fat of his petite girlfriend ass whenever she gives him a hug.

Jean kirstein who loves to see the hand size difference with his petite girlfriend. Either when you hold his hand or finger, he will always melt in awe.

Jean kirstein who will always squish his petite girlfriend’s cheeks together whenever she slightly gets annoyed or mad at him. Just to see your eyebrows frown with your face smushed.

Jean kirstein who loves the sight of your small hands wrapped around his thick cock or your small mouth trying to fit his girth entirely in your mouth without gagging.

Your hips grind against his lap as his hands ride up your silk shorts, grabbing the fat of your ass. You grind your slit against his hard cock in his pj pants feeling his soft pants deep into your mouth. Soft lips softly gliding against yours begging for his tongue having access to your mouth.

His lips were soft and warm, lips parting allowing his tongue to flow into your mouth. Your warm bodies pressed against each other, breathing heavily as the kiss grew deeper and more passionate each second you both spent on the bed.

His back was pressed against the bed frame, hands held onto your waist biting your bottom lip. His warm breath tickles your neck leaving soft kisses on your neck. Your fingers tangled in his ash brown locs.

You couldn’t help but moan when you felt his tongue stripe against your neck. His hands were so eager when it came to your body. He loved the feeling of his hands dipping between the curves of your body. He was obsessed with everything about you.

He kissed down your neck nipping on your collarbone leaving marks on your body marking you as his. His fingers slowly ride up your black slik tank top revealing your tits to the cold air in the bedroom.

His eyes gawk in awe as his digits twirl around your hard bud. Your breath trembles “fuck” feeling arousal pool in your panties. He couldn’t get enough of you. He loved how pretty you looked sitting on his lap, grinding against him trying to get any sort of friction on your clit.

“You look so small and beautiful sitting on my lap, pretty girl”. You feel shivers go down your spine at his cooed words.

He leaves tender kisses amongst your bud, slowly sucking and swirling his tongue on your hardened bud. You sensually cry out his name from the pleasure pooling in your heat.

Your moans were so silky and smooth, he couldn’t stop, not now when his cock is rock hard and couldn’t wait for your walls clamping around him. His lips detach from your bud with a string of saliva following through. Your lips don’t hesitate to kiss his mouth softly. Cupping his cheeks you kiss his lips sloppy flicking your tongue against his gliding your hand down to the familiar hardness in his pants.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me”, he groans.

Grinning into the kiss you bite his bottom lip. Your hands slide underneath his shirt up his chest. You look at him with bed room eyes as you lower your body kissing his tan fit body. You watch as his breath quickens the closer your soft silky lips kiss along him seductively looking up at him when you reach his hips. Tongue licking his light brown happy trail.

Your hands caress along the large print in his pants. His breath shudders when the feeling of friction touches his tip through his pants.

“Do you like when I touch you like this, Jean”. You whisper lusciously.

Your words were so sinful he couldn’t help but nod a yes at your question.

Your eyes were full of lust and hunger. You pull at his waist band signaling him to lift his hips up. You watch as his cock springs up slapping his abdomen. Pre cum dripping from his tip as it slowly twitches aching to be touched. He’s never been so needy before but when it came to you he was such a baby.

Your thumb smears the pre cum over his tip slowly. Frowned eyebrows from the constant teasing you put him throughout the week. His hips jerk up slightly when feeling your cold touch on his cock.

You engulf his wet heat swallowing it with slight pressure. You feel his tip at the back throat. You hollow your cheeks and breath through your nose then take his whole length down your throat. You take your lips off his cock. Lips glistening and dark with saliva. You spit on his cock, wrapping your fingers around his cock jerking him slowly teasing his tip with your tongue. “Oh fuck” he slurs out.

You felt his fingers brush the hair out of your face then entangling his fingers in your hair. You smile up at him and making eye contact with his hazel eyes, they were hazed almost showing submissiveness. You warm lips glide down his thick length faster gurling as his cock hit the back of your throat multiple times.

He couldn’t get over the sight that was happening in front of him. Your small mouth being stretched to the max trying to make his thick cock fit in your mouth or when your small hands would wrap around his cock stroking him slowly that his hips jerk and he moans softly at your touch.

You come up with a gasp as your hand strokes his cock. “You like when I suck your fat cock Jean?”, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

“Yes baby…d-don’t stop please…it feels so good”.

He was becoming a whimpering mess in your touch. You lick down his member, tongue flicking at his large balls. Your hand moves up and down his cock quicken your pace while your lips sucks at his balls moaning at how much you enjoying pleasing him.

“Should I let Jean boy cum, hm”? You keen.

The pace of your hand slowdown and you lips smirk at him with piercing eyes. Teasing him would make him plead and beg for you to let him cum. That alone could make you cum. His begging was music to your ears.

“Y-yes..please let me cum.. f-fuck baby”. He pleads.

His eyebrows knit togther in pleasure. “You look so cute when you beg”. Your lips slowly tease his tip while your hand jerks him off slowly, sucking his fat tip.

His hand pushed your head further down his shaft, thrusting his hips up fucking your throat at a relentless pace. Tears brim at the corner of your eyes feeling his cock hit the back of your throat.

“Ha fuck keep sucking oh ffuck”, he drags out. His eyes shut tight as thick squirts of ivory cum spurt down your throat. You stick out your tongue showing him you swallowed with a smile.

He pulls the collar of your silk top pulling you up to kiss him. Your lips brush against each other massaging your tongues together, “you taste so good” you moan into the kiss. His lips kiss down your neck and his hand tucks into your shorts rutting his fingers over the fabric of your underwear.

“I’m on my period Jean boy, wait until next week then you can fuck my brains out”. You roll of his lap and lift the blanket up to warm yourself up from the cold a/c.

“Don’t do that to me, you know how I feel when I don’t get to eat your pretty pussy baby” he pouts.

“And I have work in the morning, it’s already late Jean so get some rest before I put my cold feet on your leg.”

Kind of gave up at the end

Thank so much for all the love and support I really appreciate all the kind messages that were sent. Don’t be shy to leave request in my “requests here!!” tab on my account.

[gleeful-northwest-fam]

A... drabble? One shot? Thing based after a rp with @william-will-cipher

—Mod 🥀

"Pacifica-!"

The girl just ran up to the attic, slamming the door close

Preston looked at his step brother, who returned the silent resignation.

Damn kids. So stubborn.

He should leave. Give them some space. He understood that, logically, everything was logical, he was doing the most logical step getting rid of that three sided whining demon

But children weren't logical, and Pacifica specially wasn't. Children are emotional and messy and easy to use. To lose.

He sat down against the door, trying to come up with some new argument, though even if he could find it, it was most likely that neither child would actually listen. All he managed to was hide his face in his palms to try and sort out this- this tangle of horrid feelings in his chest

"C'mon, they'll get around"

"What if they don't?"

"If Gideon could... understand what happened with Carla, sure they can understand this"

Bud didn't get it. Or maybe he did? Maybe he was in the same fight against pain and guilt that had no right to be there, that was twisting their thoughts into something so very absurd.

"... how do you deal with this?"

He let out a sad chukle, sitting next to him "Not gonna lie, is... is hard"

He couldn't let it go. Her eyes willing up with tears. The shouting. The utter betrayal in her face as she screamed that she wished he had never come back. It vore into his chest with a fury no weapon or substance had pierced him in 13 years of exploring the multiverse.

"What if I messed up? Genuinely messed up?"

"Preston, the kid ain't heartless. She's upset, sure, but she loves ya"

"I'm not just talking about the kids"

"... what do you mean?"

This was absurd. Nonsense. And overall unbelievably idiotic. Yet the thought refused to leave his mind, eating him up from the inside as it drove him insane

"Sending him back.. with him"

"Fo' Pete's sake Preston, are you serious?!"

"You weren't there!" He suddenly stood up, beginning to pace around "You didn't hear how Stanford talked about him- or how jumpy he was- he looked- he looked terrified!"

"So what? Were you just gonna welcome him with open arms?"

"Of course not! It's just! It's just..." a frustrated groan scaped him, gesturing widely to try to make sense of it all "Maybe I should've found another way to make him go instead, or- or try to force Stanford into calling the deal off so he'd go back to the mindscape- something that wasn't this!"

"Preston"

"Of course I don't like Will! I hate him! I always will, and if I see him here ever again-"

"Poindexter"

"But I could've at least gotten some information! I- I assumed the deal happened after I disappeared, but what if it was before? How long has it been like that"

"Thee eyes" Preston suddenly grabbed hy the shoulders, forced to stare into Bud's reprimanding eyes "ya did the right thing. Ya protected your family. "

"But-"

"This damn demon is the reason all this happened. So you ain't gotta have no sympathy to him"

This was so... odd for Preston. He was the older brother, the smart brother, the one always with the plan and the right words. Yet ever since he came back, he has felt completely lost, relying on Bud for all these stupid mushy problems called feelings and grief and fatherhood. Before he could proceed what he was doing, he pulled his younger brother into a tight hug, which was almost immediately reciprocated

No more words were exchanged, and after a few far too long seconds, they pulled apart and walked downstairs

They never knew Pacifica had scaped out the window

[andreaheartscats]

Sally Face relationship headcanons

-> characters: Sal Fisher, Larry Johnson, Ashley Campbell

a/n: not proofread, sorry for any grammer mistakes i made!

Sal Fisher

He is very very sweet and caring but doesn't show it much in public since he doesn't want to make you feel ashamed of the fact that you're dating him.

You, a literal model, the most beautiful person he has ever seen his entier life!

In private he is very clingy and shows just how much he loves you. He showers you with compliments, gifts and such.

The dates he takes you in are absolutely adorable. He knows you don't like crowded places so he usually takes you out at night.

He takes you out to a random park at night and you both enjoy eachothers company and the night breeze while snacking on your favorite snacks and drinking your favorite drinks.

Sometimes you two would hangout in his apartmant when his dad is away. You would be in his room just chilling.

He would be working on some ghost equipment while you would lay on one of his bean bags with gizmo in your lap as he slept.

Imagine you two had a sleepover and then you had a big craving for some fast food. He would suggest that you two take a quick late night walk to the closest fast food open!

of course how could you deny such a thing.

you took Sals hoodie, even tho he was almost the same height as you, his hoodie fit you really nicely.

He would get all red in the face when he saw you in his hoodie but thankfuly for him, you couldn't see that due to his mask.

When the two of you arrived at the fast food place, it was pretty empty. Nockfell didn't have many people so it didn't suprise you really.

He orderd for the both of you and you enjoyed the food together.

In private, at his apartmant or your home . He would have his mask off around you. He really trusted you and you would trace your fingers over his scars brushing against them.

You never minded them, in fact you found him even more attractive. Of course you felt sorry for what happend to him but you loved him no matter what he looked like and he loved you.

Larry Johnson

Larry is such a cling. He is with you almost nonstop, he never leaves your side.

He loves you in both private and public, and he isn't afraid to show it. If a guy hits on you, be would on purpes put his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him while eying the guy up and down with his eyebrows frowned together.

He shows love for you in many ways. He buys you gifts, soo many teddy bears and roses, he writes songs for you and plays them on his guitar for you.

Larry is alwalys insisting on you spending the night at his. Of course how could you deny such a offer! His mom never minds when you're over. In fact she really likes you.

Whenever you were over, you would always have to sit for about 30 minutes with his mom Lisa to talk about Larry and poke fun at him! She would show you all his baby pics and of course he would get soo much embarrassed.

A blush would creep on his face while trying to drag you away from his mom into his room while you and his mom were laughing your asses off!

The two of you would cuddle 24/7. He would lay on you, with his full weight. And then you would rub his back and brush through his hair with your fingers while he shoves his head into your chest taking in your sweet scent.

Most of your time would be spend like this with him, cuddling and sleeping together.

Sometimes while you were lying on his bed, just spending some time with him, he would take that chance to paint you.

After hour or so you kinda noticed he was glancing at you nonstop. When you got up and walked over to him you saw a beautiful painting of you, half finished.

He would have his proud smile on his face with his fingers all messy in paint and his hair half up.

Ashley Campbell

She is the most caring person you'll ever meet! She loves you soooo so much. When she loves, she loves hard!

Ash really enjoys holding your hand and just clinging next to you, she is not afraid to show off her love for you in public at all.

Whenever you two would go on a date, you would get ready together. She would do your hair and your makeup if you wear some.

When it comes to outfits, it's like a runway show. You pick an outfit for her and she picks for you. Then both of you take your turns to show off the outfit other one picked out!

Whenever you're down, she takes you on a ride on her motorcycle. Mostly at night. The cold wind hitting your face, making you feel refreshed as you hold onto Ash while she drives god knows where.

Carnival dates are a must! Ash loves winning teddy bears and bunch of prizes for you. When she sees a fun ride, she just grabs your hand and literally drags you as she runs.

Ash loooves taking pictures, a lot of pictures. She has soo many photos of you and you two together. Once you two were making some pasta and she just snapped a random photo of you while you stirred the pasta.

If you have long hair (let's imagine you do) she would try soo many hair styles on you, like braiding your hair, putting them in space buns, etc...

Ash always makes sure you two match outfits. If you wore -your favorite color- shirt she would wear a similar one to you. Or she would match your nails!

When Ash puts on lipstick, she kisses you all over your face and leaves kisses marks on! She never tells you tho, so you would just walk around with red lipstick kisses smudged all over your face.

[fangdokja]

i keep rereading your yan marine corps! x fem reader. what was reader's role that she had to follow the marine's... adventure?

"You’ll never escape me—not when I’m the only one keeping you alive."

❤︎ Synopsis. In a world where death is mercy and survival means suffering, he claims you as his, promising protection through fear, control, and a twisted love that will leave you questioning if escape was ever truly possible.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured (AHD) : A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Marine Corps x Fem. Reader

♡ Oneshot. #2 - The Devil Who Saved You

♡ Word Count. 3,153

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, non-con, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, psychological and emotional trauma, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances, threats, descriptions of gore and human suffering, themes of violence and dystopia

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr content guidelines involving minors, some plot details of the original story were changed to fit the platform. If you want the true original story, please look at the author's official website or Ao3.

♡ A/N. I'm glad you enjoyed it :)). I'm surprised you're rereading it a bunch. But, I guess people do technically reread anyway. Sorry, slipped out of my mind. It just makes me happy seeing underrated works get credit, whether fandom or other stories I've written. So, thank you. Anyways. Technically, this was an ask. But it's a nice idea, and I've already had it in my drafts since before. I was just postponing lore dump with Yandere! Marine Corps, due to other works. Anyways. All I knew before, in all honesty, is that it's war time. But, time to pull out the fantasy skills and world build! Wooh! And to be honest, I'm hungry to write some gore crumbs like my familiar writing style, ahh. So, here, I present to you lore backstory (well technically part of the backstory). Hope you all enjoy it (also, sorry I talk a lot in notes).

♡ Music. Levee & Brick (Down to This) by Graffiti Ghosts

The world had fallen into an abyss so deep it seemed there was no end to its descent. The wars that came before—those waged for borders, ideologies, or resources—were merely preludes to this ultimate collapse. What erupted now was not war; it was annihilation. A calamity that turned cities into craters and humanity into prey. Every shred of civility burned away in the endless fires of desperation. The air was thick with the ash of the old world, a grim veil that painted the skies an eternal gray.

You had lived a different life once, one of relative normalcy in the dwindling days before the collapse. Back then, you had a future, a purpose, something as simple and human as hope. But that had been stripped away when the world’s powers unleashed devastation so complete it birthed horrors no living creature could comprehend. Technology had become a weapon of eradication, bioweapons and nanotech turning survivors into deformed creatures of flesh and steel, feral and mindless, hunting whatever moved. Rogue factions—remnants of militaries, mercenaries, and scavengers—rose like carrion birds, preying on the remnants of humanity.

In this hellscape, survival was no longer a matter of luck but of submission. Submission to those strong enough to carve their will into the earth and impose their dominion. He was one of those few. A towering force of unyielding violence, a soldier molded by decades of carnage, by a war that had reshaped him from a man into something closer to a machine of flesh and blood. The United Corps, once a venerated military institution, had fractured into splinter groups, each operating like a self-contained warlord’s regime. He was among their best—a leader, an executioner, a strategist, and now your captor.

You were assigned to him by pure chance—or perhaps cruel design. In this new order, value wasn’t measured by money or power but by the usefulness of flesh and mind. And you had been marked as useful. Perhaps it was your background—your knowledge, your resilience, or simply the misfortune of catching his attention when your convoy was intercepted by his unit. The corps didn’t merely take prisoners; they assessed, dissected, and consumed whatever remnants of humanity they deemed salvageable.

And he deemed you salvageable.

There were no illusions about the nature of his claim over you. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t mercy. It was obsession, possessive and cruel, born of a warped sense of necessity. “You belong to me now,” he had told you in that deep, unrelenting tone, the heat of his breath warming your face even as the chill of his words froze your soul. “Out there, they’ll rip you apart for the scraps on your bones. With me, you’ll live—if you behave.”

The battlefield was safer than the no-man’s land outside his dominion. That was the most damning truth. To run from him was to dive into a living nightmare where survival wasn’t a goal but a punishment. Outside his protection, death was not granted quickly.

You’d seen it. You’d heard the screams echoing through the wastelands, watched the crude factories churn with suffering. He’d forced you to look once, pressing your face against the window of a blood processing plant as tears streaked down your cheeks. “This is what’s waiting for you if you run,” he had whispered, his voice devoid of sympathy. “With me, you’re mine. Out there, you’re theirs. Decide.”

────────────

The smell hit you first. It wasn’t just the copper tang of blood; it was the rancid stench of rotting flesh mixed with chemicals—formaldehyde, acid, and something sour that clawed at the back of your throat. You gagged, instinctively raising a trembling hand to cover your nose, but he was quicker. His large, calloused fingers wrapped around your wrist, dragging your arm back down with enough force to make you whimper.

“Don’t look away,” he growled, his voice low and gravelly, vibrating like a distant explosion. “You need to see this.”

You didn’t want to see. You didn’t! But he held you there, his unyielding grip on your wrist a silent command. He stood just behind you, close enough that his breath fanned across the back of your neck, hot and suffocating.

The factory loomed before you like the mouth of some great beast, its jagged, rusted metal teeth glinting in the dim light of the sulfur-stained sky. The air outside had been foul, but inside, it was worse—a miasma of decay and despair.

The conveyor belts stretched endlessly, carrying bodies in various states of disassembly. Some were intact, their limbs hanging limply as they were dragged by crude metal hooks. Others were barely recognizable—mangled flesh and shattered bone mashed together in a grotesque parody of humanity. You tried to look away, to focus on the machinery, but even that was a nightmare of grinding gears slick with gore.

A loud, wet squelch drew your attention to a nearby station. A corpse—a woman, or at least what remained of her—was hoisted onto a steel slab. Her eyes were still open, glassy and staring, as if frozen in the moment of her death. A mechanical arm descended, its blade glinting dully under the flickering industrial lights. It carved into her chest with a precision that was almost surgical, splitting her ribcage open to reveal the organs beneath.

You felt bile rise in your throat as another arm extended, pincers gripping her heart. It yanked the organ free with a sickening suction sound, sending a spray of blood across the walls and floor. The heart was deposited into a waiting vat, where it joined dozens of others, floating in a viscous, murky liquid.

“They don’t waste anything,” he said, his tone devoid of emotion, as if he were explaining the workings of a simple machine. “Every part has a purpose. The skin for leather. The bones for tools. The organs for… whatever the hell they need them for.”

Your knees buckled, but he caught you, his arm snaking around your waist to keep you upright. “No,” he hissed, his breath hot and sharp against your ear. “You don’t get to faint. You’re going to watch. You’re going to understand.”

A scream tore through the air, high-pitched and raw, and you realized with horror that some of them weren’t dead. Your eyes darted to the source of the sound, landing on a man thrashing against his restraints as he was dragged toward another station. His legs were gone, severed at the thighs, and the stumps had been crudely cauterized to keep him alive.

“Please,” the man sobbed, his voice hoarse and desperate. “Please, just kill me. Just—”

The blade came down before he could finish, cleaving his remaining arm from his body. His scream turned guttural, the sound of a soul breaking, before it was cut off entirely by a needle plunging into his neck. The liquid injected was thick and black, spreading through his veins like oil. His body convulsed violently for a moment before going still.

You turned your head, choking on a sob, but he gripped your chin and forced you to face the scene again. His fingers dug into your skin, bruising and relentless.

“This is what happens without me,” he said, his voice a low snarl. “You think you can survive out there? Think you can make it without my protection? Look at them!” He shook you slightly, as if to drive the point home. “This is what you are without me—meat.”

Tears streamed down your face, hot and shameful, as you stared at the conveyor belts and the countless bodies reduced to parts. You couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop the nausea that twisted your stomach into knots.

Another scream pierced the air, this one an elder's. Your head snapped toward the sound, and your heart plummeted. A thin figure, frail and sickly, was strapped to a table, his wide, terrified eyes fixed on the approaching machinery.

“No,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “No, no, no…”

The machine didn’t care. The blades descended, and you squeezed your eyes shut, the image burned into your mind even as you tried to block it out.

He didn’t let you escape even that. His hand tightened on your jaw, forcing your eyes open. “Don’t you dare look away,” he growled. “This is reality. This is what’s waiting for you if you run.”

You broke then, sobbing uncontrollably, your body wracked with shuddering breaths. He held you there, unyielding, until you were too weak to fight. Only then did he pull you close, his grip on you shifting from punishing to possessive.

“That’s right,” he murmured, his tone softening in a way that was somehow more terrifying. “You understand now, don’t you? You’re mine. And as long as you’re mine, this will never happen to you.”

His lips brushed against your temple, a mockery of comfort as he whispered, “But if you ever forget, I’ll bring you back here. And I’ll make you watch again.”

────────────

The battlefield stretched like a bleeding wound across the earth, jagged trenches carved into the mud and ash. The remnants of what had once been cities were nothing more than skeletal buildings clawing at the smog-choked sky. The air was thick with the acrid tang of burning fuel and the gut-wrenching stench of charred flesh. Bomb craters bubbled with viscous, oily water that gleamed under the pale, radioactive sun. It was a place where hope had been smothered, where humanity’s last breaths came in choking, gurgling gasps.

He stood before you, his shadow long and oppressive, a monolith of muscle and bloodied steel. His armor—if you could call the piecemeal, blood-streaked remains of his tactical gear armor—clung to him like a second skin, the fabric worn thin and blackened with soot. In his hand, a rifle dangled lazily, as though he didn’t need it. And he didn’t. He was a weapon unto himself, his body and mind honed by decades of violence, cruelty, and war.

“Do you remember this place?” His voice was a low rumble, scraping against your nerves like a blade dragged across bone. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, bore into you with a force that made your knees weak. “Where I found you?”

You nodded faintly, though you didn’t trust your voice enough to speak. Your silence wasn’t just fear—it was a learned response, a survival tactic you’d mastered in the years since he’d claimed you.

“Do you know what they were going to do to you?” He crouched, bringing his face level with yours. His presence was suffocating, his frame dwarfing your own. His voice dropped lower, almost tender, as though sharing a secret. “No, you don’t. You only saw what they let you see. Let me show you the rest.”

He yanked you forward, his grip on your wrist unyielding, and led you toward the edge of the battlefield. The ground squelched beneath your feet, a revolting mixture of mud, blood, and something viscous that you didn’t want to identify. In the distance, the ruins of an old hospital came into view. The building leaned at an unnatural angle, its walls crumbling but still intact enough to conceal the horrors within.

“You’ve seen death,” he said, his tone conversational, as though discussing the weather. “But you haven’t seen what people do when death isn’t enough. When they want to break you first.”

The interior of the hospital reeked of antiseptic and decay. The sterile smell of chemicals clashed with the unmistakable odor of rot. The walls were streaked with dark stains, their origins uncomfortably clear as you stepped over discarded limbs, the flesh marbled with gangrene and crude surgical scars.

In the first room, a soldier lay strapped to a gurney, his body contorted unnaturally. His chest had been split open, ribs wrenched apart like the wings of a grotesque bird. His heart was missing, the cavity where it had once beat filled with a tangled mess of wires and tubing. The machinery whirred softly, pumping fluids through his veins and forcing his lungs to expand and contract in shallow, mechanical breaths. His eyes were still open, rolling wildly in their sockets as they locked onto you.

“He’s alive,” the man behind you whispered, his voice a mix of mockery and menace. “Barely. They like to see how far they can push the human body before it gives out. Sometimes they even stitch people back together, just to see how much more they can take.”

You gagged, your stomach lurching violently, but he grabbed your chin, forcing you to face the horror. “Don’t look away,” he commanded, his tone sharp and unyielding. “You need to understand. This is what was waiting for you.”

He dragged you into another room, this one colder, darker. Rows of tanks filled the space, each containing a murky, greenish fluid that distorted the shapes inside. At first, you thought they were bodies, but as you moved closer, you realized they were something worse. Limbs were fused together in impossible configurations, heads sprouted from torsos without necks, and eyes blinked independently in faces twisted beyond recognition. The creatures floated listlessly, their expressions a grotesque mix of agony and confusion.

“Human experimentation,” he explained, almost lazily. “They weren’t trying to kill you. They were going to use you. Turn you into something like this. A weapon. Or worse—a resource.”

You stumbled backward, but he caught you, his arm curling around your waist with a possessive strength that left no room for escape. He pressed his lips to your ear, his voice a dark caress. “I killed them all for you. Do you see now why you belong to me? Why you owe me your life?”

He pushed you onward, through rooms filled with horrors you couldn’t have imagined in your darkest nightmares. A man impaled on a series of metal rods, his skin flayed back to expose muscle and bone, still breathing through a series of tubes jammed into his throat. A woman with her limbs replaced by crude prosthetics, her mouth sewn shut but her eyes screaming. People of all ages locked in cages, their bodies twisted and deformed, their cries muffled by gags soaked in blood.

“This is what humanity has become,” he said, his voice cold and detached. “This is what I saved you from. You were a prize to them. A rare find. They would’ve broken you in ways you can’t even imagine.”

You fell to your knees, the weight of it all crashing down on you. He crouched beside you, his bloodied hand gripping your chin and forcing you to look at him. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, were filled with something dark, something terrifyingly close to affection.

“Don’t forget this,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Don’t ever forget who saved you. Who you belong to. Because without me…” His voice trailed off as he gestured toward the carnage around you. “This is all you’d ever know.”

You sobbed, the sound muffled against his chest as he pulled you into his arms. His embrace was as suffocating as it was unyielding, a cage that you could never escape. And yet, in that moment, you clung to him, because the alternative was too horrifying to bear.

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So you stayed.

Not because you trusted him. Not because you wanted him. But because the alternative was infinitely worse. And yet, staying came with its own horrors, its own chains. His obsession didn’t shield you from his cruelty; it only redirected it. He was a man who didn’t just command obedience—he demanded submission. Every glance, every word, every trembling breath was a reminder of your place beneath him. When he touched you, it wasn’t with gentleness. His hands were calloused and bruising, gripping and claiming, leaving marks that would never fade.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he would say when your eyes filled with defiance or despair. “You’re still alive because I allow it.”

The world outside was dead, a barren wasteland of mutilation and starvation, yet with him, the torment was suffocatingly personal. He didn’t just want your compliance; he wanted your surrender. His words were a scalpel, cutting into your psyche with surgical precision. He would pull you close, his breath hot against your ear, his voice low and gravelly as he whispered promises of protection intertwined with threats so visceral they made your stomach churn.

“You’re mine,” he’d say, his hand resting possessively on your throat. “Every inch of you. Every thought. Every breath. Try to take that away from me, and I’ll show you what real pain feels like.”

There were moments when his control slipped, when the line between protector and predator blurred beyond recognition. He would keep you close, his body a cage of muscle and violence, his gaze piercing through your facade of composure. The way his hands roamed wasn’t tender—it was invasive, a reminder that he could take whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and there was nothing you could do to stop him.

And yet, you didn’t resist. Couldn’t. Resistance wasn’t a choice. Not here. Not with him.

The world outside was unlivable. The world with him was unbearable. Between the two, you chose to endure.

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[snk-warriors]

Can't Stay Away

Levi Ackerman x F! Reader

Summary: After the war ended, Levi finds himself at a familiar doorstep.

Warnings: Bittersweet angst, smut, not proofread

A/N: This blog is still officially inactive, but this story is a little gift for my dear friend @antivan-dragon. It was a joy to write it for you! <3

This is wrong.

He shouldn't be here - not after everything that had happened.

How long has it been, ten years? More?

It's hard to tell when you're used to live from moment to moment. Never knowing whether the current day might be your last really messes up one's perception of time.

All Levi's sure of is that the brief time he had allowed himself with you was the happiest he's ever been - than he ever thought to be capable of.

And yet, from his very first breath, his fate was clear: To him, living had always been a fight. Whether it was in the underground for food and safety, or against titans and humans alike under the clear sky mattered very little in the great concept of things.

The only home he's ever known was on the battlefield - until he met you, at least.

And still, Levi went back to the frontlines again and again and again because it's all he's ever known, the power he's born with a burdening duty upon the weak...

...but what place does a soldier have now, in a society without war?

This is what he fought for, right? To achieve peaceful times. Avenge his fallen comrades, honor his commander and protect as many people as possible from the unnecessary suffering this cruel world eventually provided.

Protecting you, first and foremost.

Your wellbeing has always been his greatest priority, and yet at the same time Levi was the one responsible for so much misery. Back then he convinced himself it was for the better, that he was doing you a favor by removing himself from your life.

In the end, all that's left for him now is the bitter feeling of regret.

Levi was aware that you would've waited for him, no matter how long it'd take until his return...

...but he was certain that his death was inevitable - a sacrifice he'd gladly take if it'd meant ensuring you a long and fulfilled life. And even if the impossible case of his survival would occur, he'd be a different man by then.

Ultimatively, he has become exactly this: Unlike you remember him, and definetly nothing close to what you deserved.

Maybe even in different circumstances he could never live up to the expectations he had set in himself - at least when it came to you.

But he felt as if you were like pure sunlight and he was a moth, drawn to it. No, he was the moon - selfishly absorbing and covering your brightness.

So, in order to make things easier for you, he pushed you away despite his soul screaming for him to stay at your side until humanity would reduce itself to ashes.

When no words would dring through to your devoted self, he announced an engagement to Petra, efficiently shattering your heart in the process.

Nothing Levi had ever done was as hard a task.

Given time however you'd find someone worthy to give you the life he longed for so deeply but never could, at least that's what he thought...

...yet when he heard that you never married even after all this time, his rationality stands no chance against the aching of his own loneliness.

Just to look how you've been he told himself on the way, and for an overdue apology.

Your little cottage on the outskirts of Wall Rose still looks as if he never left. It always smelled of lavender and honey, and whatever you were baking at the time.

Levi switched from the wheelchair to his cane, still able to walk by himself at least for a short distance. Only a few stairs separated the two of you, and it was the longest he's ever took - not because of his disability, but rather to gather all of his courage.

Facing his enemies was a piece of cake compared to this right now.

Though it felt wrong to do so he peeked through the window, his face twitching into an almost-smile as he finally laid eyes upon you again. The inside was cleaned spotless as always, neatly yet minimalistic decorated. You on the other hand were currently preparing some pastries, contently humming to yourself.

It felt like he never left.

What about you, he wondered. Had there been others after him? What was your life like these days? He wants to know everything.

That goddamn cat was still alive as it seems, curiously pricking up it's ears as it recognized the familiar - altough mangled - face. You and him had argued a lot about letting feral animals into your home, due to Levi's concern for hygiene and especially that damn fur everywhere in the house.

One glare from the man and it hissed, jumping down from the front porch and bolting into the forrest. Shit.

Living alone and isolated from civilization was dangerous, especially for a single woman. So it was no wonder how hyper-aware you still are, immediately swinging the door open with a clocked rifle.

Oh, how much he missed that side of you. The perfect combination of cute but deadly.

"Levi..." His features immediately softened at the sound of your voice. To him that name had been reduced to a battle cry, something for his enemies to curse and his superiors yelled to wield their human weapon around.

But coming out of your mouth, he could listen to it all day even if it was just to hurl insults at him.

Instead you put your welcoming arms around him before the weapon even dropped to the ground, heartwrenching sobs echoing against the pinewoods. "God, Levi, you-you're back. You're finally back...I-I knew you'd come!"

The former Captain should be relieved, and frankly, he is - nevertheless, things shouldn't be this way.

He had left so you could live...and you simply didn't.

This wasn't fair. And it drove him insane. There was an immense fury at the pit of his stomach at the realization that his withhold was for nothing, that you had wasted both of your lifetimes through your stubbornness.

You should have found yourself a man that could give you a family, a stable life, goddamn it the whole fucking world shall you ask!

However the sheer fact that he was finally able to breathe the same air as you again overshadowed any grudge with pure gratitude.

His whole life Levi had been was a dedicated, dutiful combatant, unquestioning to his orders. Now that the war was over, there was nothing left for him to do, nowhere left to go.

This one time, he'll allow himself to be selfish.

A hand on the back of your neck pulled you to close the remaining distance between the two of you, sealing his mute promises with a longdue kiss.

Levi had kissed you before - always rough and demanding. That's how things were between you, after all: He came to your home solely to get a taste of what normalcry, being human, was like, just to disappear after having realized his mistake.

If it meant he'd stay in your life, if only feebly, that was more than enough for you.

But this kiss...it was different. Tender, savouring, unwilling to pull away even tor so much as breathing air.

When your lips finally parted, you placed another, small peck to the corner of his lips. Your hands reached for his face, cupping it on both sides as if to make sure he's really there.

For a moment he pulls back, doubting his decision.

After all, the man in front of you was a shell of his former self, old and disfigured and broken. Petra was long since dead, you'd heard about the tragic circumstance.

He never wanted to give you the impression that you were just a last resort for when everyone else had forsaken him.

Noticing his internal struggle - an amazing talent only you possessed, since his expression was as still as a statue - you clutch the fabric of his shirt, gently tugging him inside. He has to lean onto you for support, stumbling into the all-too-familiar room.

You feel calloused hands on your body, caressing every inch of your exposed skin and sliding under your clothes. "Tell me to stop" he speaks breathlessly, sternly, "And I will."

Instead you frantically shake your head as you moan into his ear, one leg wrapping around his waist as he pushed you against the wall, busying yourself with rising blood on the skin of your neck. Fuck, he's missed your scent.

"B-Bed" you manage to wring out as his hand slips under your skirt, fingertips tracing the wet spot between your legs. He was eager, intoxicated one might say, but you could clearly feel how his own legs were close to giving in.

The thrill of the moment was briefly overshadowed by the humiliation of his new reality. In the past he would've taken you anywhere in the house, would've been able to lift you up and throw you onto the mattress if you so desired.

Another jab at his conscience that he'll never be good enough for you. If only he knew this was the way you'd always wanted him: Slow, passionate, caring...

"Don't worry about me" he speaks nonchalantly, yet the determination in his glare makes you shiver. Levi dropped to his knees just like that, his hands wandering upwards each of your legs. "Let me worship you."

You half-laugh, half-whine when he sunk his teeth into the flesh of your upper thigh, remembering how much he loved leaving little marks like love-letters on your skin. Old habits die hard, even when trying to be gentle.

Without hesitating, Levi twirls his fingers around the hem of your already dripping panty, pulling it down just enough to put his mouth to work. His teasing made you a whimmering mess, taking his time tracing kisses around the area close enough to feel his breath on your clit.

"Shi-it, Levi!" you let out a scream as his tongue slid along your folds, muffling your own noises by a hand on your mouth until Levi tugs at your arms. "I need to hear you, love. It's been too long."

And so you did, begging and moaning shamelessly as Levi ate you out like a man starving, palming himself through his trousers with eyes never leaving yours.

Hearing you like this made something in him snap, and yet you tugged on his hair, tugging him away just before you'd fall apart in front of him. "Not like this" you pant heavily, head spinning from lust, "I need you. Completely."

He simply nods at the request, unable to keep his hands from you even the short way to your bedroom. Your gown fell to the floor as he watched, a low groan escaping his closed mouth at the sight.

Time sure had taken a toll on both of you, he thinks as his knuckles brushed along your cheek, diving in your features that had slowly faded in his memory over the years...

...but your eyes, those damn beautiful orbs that showcased the love you held for him, they didn't change a bit.

And their effect on him was also still the same.

Before you first met he was sure that all those hardships had turned his heart into stone, but now this yearning had become a dagger he desperately wanted to pull out, make his heart bleed in reverence.

Levi was a man that spoke through actions, however.

Your fingers intertwined when he aligned himself with your entrance, searching your face to which you gave a permissing nod. He entered you carefully, adoring every microexpression, every reaction of yours when he started at a slow pace.

Even in his current state, his skill lacked nothing from his former peak: It was as if you could feel his hands and lips were everywhere at once, hitting all of your weak spots as if your body was a map he had learned by heart.

"I love you."

Your pupils were blown wide at his declaration, those words you had already long since made peace with to never hear coming out of his mouth.

A look that could only be described as pure affection plastered on his face, kissing along your collarbone up to your ear. "I love you, Y/N" he speaks again, more firmly now and smiling sincere as never before now that this self-inflicted weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders. "Always did."

Tears dwelled in your eyes, vocal cords lost their ability to form anything else than sobs and moans as your lips found his again, smiling against his mouth.

Words were never needed when it came to the bond of you and Levi, after all.

As his thrusts became more clumsy, ragged breaths whispering sweet affirmations barely audible to your ear, burying his hips against your pelvis as he rode you through your high. He followed closely after you came undone, stiling above you without any intend to leave this sweet escape he found in your arms.

Your hands rested on his shoulder blades when he felt safe enough to collapse in front of you, his head lying on your chest as your heartbeat soothed him just like back then.

He was alive. And you were his.

"Please" you sniveled, anxiety preventing you to endulge in the afterwaves of your ebbing high, "Never leave again."

You clung to him for dear life, limbs entangled as if he was just a pleasant dream that would disappear as soon as you dared letting go.

That moment Levi made an oath to himself: No matter his insecurities, for the rest of his life he'd dedicate to become the man you see in him.

There was a lot to make up for.

"If you'll have me."