This Might Seem A Little Out Of Left-field, But I Was Thinking About The Obey Me Brothers And Some Of

This might seem a little out of left-field, but I was thinking about the Obey Me Brothers and some of their… specific vices, and things got out of hand quickly. What can I say? I’m a sucker for lists, Yanderes, and the culmination of the two.

The Yandere!Demon Brothers’ Darkest Fantasies.

TW: Graphic Violence, (Imagined) Non-Con, Power-Play, Master/Servant Dynamics, Dub-Con, Mentions of Masturbation, Mentions of Blood/Bruising, and General Unhealthy Mindsets All Around.

Lucifer wants you to bow to him.

Out of everyone on the list, he does the least to hide his fantasies, regardless of how depraved or dubious or down-right disgusting they get. Why would he? There are only a handful of people stronger than him, more capable than him, and when it’s so clear that you’re so weak and feeble and in such desperate need of guidance, he hardly feels the need to wait for you to ask. It borders on pet-play, honestly, if only because he’s so quick to pull out a collar the first time you puff out your cheeks and refuse to get on your knees when he was nice enough to order around you politely.

It’s all about control for him, or rather, the reassurance that he’s the one who has it. The knowledge that he’s the strongest, the most responsible, and that he deserves to be in charge, even if things tend to get bloody under his command. He’ll make you say such awful things, telling you exactly what he wants to hear as the heel of his boot digs into your bare spine, keeping your chest pressed against the floor while you sing his praises and drag your own name through the mud, confessing every rash, irresponsible thing you’ve ever done in an effort to distract him from the whip that never seems to leave his hand. He knows what it’s like to be treated as something holy, what it’s like to be revered rather than feared, and he doesn’t want to stop pushing until you look at him with the same admiration, the same unadulterated love he used to be showered in.

And if you don’t, if you won’t, he’ll be happy to break you down until you don’t have another choice. Obedience is a close second to reverence, and Lucifer has enough toys to make either a viable option.

Mammon wants to keep you to himself.

It’s a natural progression, honestly. He’s your first, he’s your man, and you’re his human, his responsibility, the most useless treasure in his collection and the only one that truly, genuinely matters to him. For now, he can wrap an arm around your waist, narrow his eyes and keep any potential rivals at a distance, but he can’t do anything to keep away his own brothers. Baring his teeth and sharpening his claws feels childish when all you do is smile and tell him not to be so jealous. Everything he does feels pointless when you can just laugh and run off with the first person to pull you away from him. You make it pointless. You are pointless, you should just be lucky he wants you anyway.

It’d be so simple, too, so easy to just close the door to his room and not open it again, not until you’re chained to something too tight to slip out of. No one would be able to get their hands on you, no one would be able to take you away, it’d just be you and him and no one else, not if he can help it. You’d be his to ruin, his to care for, his to dote on or discipline or do whatever he pleases to, whenever he wants to. It’d be heaven for him, and… it wouldn’t be, for you.

That’s part of the fantasy, and he hates it. He doesn’t want to be cruel to you, he doesn’t want to see you cry because of him, and yet, all he wants to do is polish his newest addition until it’s as shiny and as his as the rest of his hoard. He wants not to care when you cry, he wants to look down at your shaking body and he wants to laugh, to sneer, to tell you that this is your fault and you have no one to blame but yourself. Maybe he wants to be more apathetic, maybe he just wants to stop being so hesitant, but what he wants seems to be less important than what he’s starting to need. If the number of ‘packages’ he’s been getting is any indication, I wouldn’t count on his reluctance lasting for much longer.

Leviathan wants you to make him cry.

He’s not a masochist. Or, he is a masochist, but not in the way you’d assume. Leviathan doesn’t bother pretending to be confident. He doesn’t act like he has all the self-esteem in the world, and he doesn’t try to hide his (admittedly poor) view of his lifestyle. That might be why he loses his composure whenever you compliment him, why he stutters and blushes and gets so awkward when you try to tell him that you like the way he is, that you love him for it. That you don’t mind.

It’s an awful, unhealthy part of himself that wants you to say otherwise. To contradict yourself, to smirk and shove him onto your bed and say you couldn’t find him more disgusting, that you’ve never known someone so pathetic. Maybe it’s just a depraved daydream, a desire to have his worst fears proven right by the person he loves most, or maybe, he just likes the image of you riding him into overstimulation as you make him thank you for taking pity on someone so hopeless, maybe he just likes to imagine the feeling of your hands around his neck, your grip tightening every time his gaze falls lower than your eyes. He has a whole list of names for you to call him, insults ranging from ‘pervert’ to ‘drain on society’, but he’d never tell that to you. No, he can barely bring himself to think about this kind of stuff, let alone say any of it outloud.

All he can do is let his touch wander whenever he hugs you, let his fingers brush against things they shouldn’t and leave them to linger for far too long for his actions to be taken as an innocent mistake. He isn’t sure whether he’s trying to push you to hate him, trying to really make his fantasy into a reality, or if he just wants you to get the message that he wants something more intimate, something more violent. Either way, he’s started leaving his door unlocked when his mind begins to wander. Open, sometimes, if it’s just the two of you home. Just hope your room isn’t too close to his. He tends to get… explicit, when he’s feeling passionate.

Satan wants to show everyone who you belong to.

His fantasy is one of the most depraved, if only because it barely has anything to do with you. No, it’d only be fitting for the Avatar of Wrath’s favorite daydream to be centered around something more possessive, something more domineering, something totally and utterly separate from the person he loves. You’re not replaceable, it has to be you for him to care to put in the effort, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to check whether or not you’re enjoying yourself when he bends you over the dining room table in the middle of breakfast, for no other reason than Asmodeus commented on your outfit and Beelzebub offered to carry your bag and neither of them should be doing so much as looking at you when he’s right there, when it’s so clear that you belong to someone and that he doesn’t want to share.

On the outside, his self-control is as impeccable as always, but he’d be lying if said his hand didn’t twitch every time Mammon stood a little too close, every time Leviathan scraped up the courage to talk to you. He’s so strong, too, and you’re so, so weak, it wouldn’t even be a fair fight. He could cage you against a bookshelf or throw you onto a countertop and what would you do? Try to push him away? Scream for help? An audience is what he wants, what he craves, a crowd of anyone and everyone who’s ever touched you to watch as you beg for him to stop and moan his name and cry as you cum, even if he has to get a little messier than he’d like, for that. Risky sex might come close to scratching his itch, but the risk of being caught and making a show of something so private are two different vices entirely. You’ll be lucky if it does anything but make him bolder, more blatant with his plans. He takes after Lucifer, in that regard. He doesn’t know why he’d try to hide it.

As far as he’s concerned, he owns you, and you’ve only got yourself to blame if you haven’t realized that yet. It’s only fair that he gets to mark what’s his, as plainly and as publicly as possible.

Asmodeus wants you to say ‘no’ to him.

Do I really have to say anything else? He’s so tired of seduction, so sick of glazed eyes and glossy lips and people so intoxicated by his presence, they’re practically tripping over themselves just to feel the heels of his boots press into their backs as he walks over them. It’s not that he wants a chase, he’s always been a pacifist at heart, and he’d rather not have to resort to any unsavory means, he’s just bored and feed-up and he wants something new, even if it’s only fun for him.

It doesn’t help that he’s terrible at holding himself back. He’s good at hiding his true feelings (he’s already so touchy, it gets hard to tell what’s innocent and what’s not), but it’s impossible not to notice how fond he’s become of admiring your wrists, buying you bracelets so thick and so heavy, you can hardly hold them up. You can’t ignore it when he takes a moment too long to pull away when you tell him you want space, or just how hesitant he seems to let you go after ‘playfully’ pinning you to his bed. He wants to keep going. He wants to see the light drain from your eyes as you realize he’s not going to stop, to feel you writhe and struggle and try to get away, to hear you scream your safeword and to ignore it, to not care than you don’t want him. He doesn’t want to make you suffer, not any more than he has to, but his heart never fails to beat a little faster when he pictures it, and he gets more excited than he’s been in centuries by the thought alone.

If anything, you should feel honored. It’s been so long since he wanted something so specific, someone so specific, he almost forgot what it was like to lust for rather than be lusted after. I’d say he’s unprepared for it, but Asmodeus is hard to catch off-guard, and this just so happens to be his area of expertise. He has a way of getting what he wants, even if he has to make things a little difficult for everyone else.

Beelzebub wants to see how far you bend.

You really can’t blame him for being curious. It’s more of an intrusive thought than a fantasy, something he can’t help but think about, not once he realizes how strong he is and how resilient you aren’t. And, unlike the others, his fantasy has a specific catalyst, a real, substantial reason for its existence. He’d just been holding your hand, his grip still bordering on loose, but your fingers had cracked under his like glass under a bulldozer. It was just a sprain, something Simeon had healed with a contemplative glance and a flick of his wrist, but it stuck with Beelzebub. It stuck with him and god, he wishes it hadn’t.

He can’t help the places his mind wanders to. He can’t stop himself, not once he starts wondering what it’d be like if he was just a little bit bigger and you were just a little bit smaller and he cared a lot less about hurting you than he does, in reality. You’d be so tight, warm and welcoming and so easily broken if he does so much as breaths on you the wrong way, and you’d look so pretty afterward, too sore to move without his help and absolutely covered in bruises and bitemarks he didn’t even have to try to leave.

The aftercare is the only part he doesn’t mind wanting. At least it’s softer than the rest of it, full of kisses and snacks and touches so light, he can almost pretend he hadn’t just imagined fucking you until your ribs caved in under his palms. He’s mapped out every ugly, tender mark he’d leave, every place you’d ache and throb, every minute of your recovery - every second it’d take you to get well enough for him to do it all over again. Maybe he’ll even call in a favor, bow his head and swallow his shame for just long enough to have someone who’s got a hand for healing on stand-by so he wouldn’t have to wait, but he never lets his mind drift that far. He’s too busy trying to convince himself he still doesn’t want to hurt you.

Belphegor wants to take advantage of your trust.

Unlike his twin, Belphegor wishes he just wants to hurt you. Pain is simple, or, physical pain is simple, anyway. He could tell himself it’s because you’re human, that hating you is just an old habit he hasn’t kicked. He’d pinch your cheeks and pull at your hair and he’d try to be satisfied with that, he’d tell himself he doesn’t want anything more. He’d be lying to himself, of course, but it’d still be an honest effort. Unfortunately, what he wants isn’t that clear-cut. It isn’t that shallow, and that’s why he has to hate himself for it.

Maybe it arose the first time you fell asleep before him, when you were so vulnerable and exposed and so helpless he had to wonder whether or not you had a deathwish. Or how at-peace you seem during his rare shows of affection, as if the talons tracing patterns into your skin couldn’t easily dig in and pull at the slightest hint of a threat. You’re so comfortable around him, so careless, you need to be taught a lesson and he needs to teach it to you. On good days, it’s almost innocent. Groping you while you’re only half-awake, letting his hand trail up your thigh during a council meeting because he knows you’re too nice to say anything. On bad days, on most days, he’s fucking his fist to the thought of holding you down while someone you like much less than him does something vile to your anatomy, only offering the barest hints of comfort when your crying gets loud enough to be annoying.

You trust him, and the worst part is, you’ll probably still trust him when he’s done. He’s been forgiven for worse, and that’s what gets him off, the idea that you’ll still look at him like the closest friend you’ve ever had the moment he averts his eyes and offers a half-hearted apology, saying he’s grown, that he just had to get it out of his system, that he won’t do it again even though he absolutely, definitely will. And you’ll believe him, because somehow, you still trust him. Because you’re always going to trust him.

Because he’s prepared to bleed you dry until you don’t know how to do anything but trust him, anymore.

The Hierophant - Day 6

Day 6: Professor / Student

Aizawa x F!Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Kinks: Professor / Student, Public sex

Notes: The banner was edited by me, photo can be found here. If you would like to be tagged in future fics of mine and writing events, comment with the url tag you would like me to use on this post!

Tags: @redbeanteax, @cherrycolabomb, @dabilove27, @aly-insanity, @khemz1312, @violeteyesandpurplehair, @mattiekins, @bnhaxxassociates, @winterpersimmons, @xkatiex, @thirstyforthem2dmen, @katsontherun

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Professor Aizawa’s office looked just as anyone would expect from him: plain, practical and with no sign of personal touches. His office was purely for work and that was it. Every inch was nondescript, white walls, bare of all decoration. Even his desk was unimpressive, only sporting some tests from a previous class he was grading with a glaring red pen and a computer. You swept your eyes over the small pile of papers, catching sight of a very familiar test with very familiar hand writing.

You gulped.

Keep reading

Tags

im at a loss for words

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black-noir-ink

3 years ago

the “good girl” after he cums & before he pulls out is what I live for

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black-noir-ink

5 years ago

I had a thought. Hawk’s s/o owning a huge stuffed animal she always cuddles,n whenever she’s not looking or leaves the room alone w stuffed toy n hawks... he lik. Rubs himself on it- to make it smell like him- for the pure sake of seeing it as his only competition- n wanting it to remind her of him when she smells it- Jfjffjjf idk

Anon I’m so sorry that I totally twisted your scenario into something 20x more ridiculous than it already was I have no idea what this is.

———

(NSFW)

Hawks was the top bird. He knows that. He knows that you know that. No one keeps you safe, provides for you, and makes you feel good like he does. You said it yourself, “You’re the greatest thing that’s ever come into my life.” He believes you.

But that doesn’t make your relationship with that other bird any less infuriating. You said that he’s an old gift from a friend, but Hawks isn’t going to let down his guard. Not with the way you cuddle up to the other bird. ‘I’m cuddly too,’ Hawks thought whenever he watched you. There were never any intrusions when it was just you and him in the great outdoors. All of your attention was on him, as it should be. But once you both were back at your place, and you just needed to lie down and rest, you’d always let that little bastard join the party.

Hawks never said anything about it, and neither did the other bird. ‘And he never will, if he knows what’s good for him.’ He pulls you in extra close and plants several kisses on your face. Possessive, he knows, but there aren’t many ways to get his point across to his innocent-looking rival, who wasn’t reacting to Hawks’s display of dominance. The other bird had a poker face that competes with his, Hawks had to admit, and it was honestly starting to piss him off.

‘How about I show him something that he’ll never have.’

Your surprised little ‘oh!’ made Hawks smirk as he rolled you onto your stomach, yanking off your pants and underwear. He frees himself and rubs your slippery folds. The sudden eagerness excites you. “Mmmm, Hawks. Being aggressive tonight?”

“I just think you could use a refresher tonight, baby.” He pushes inside and rests all of his weight on top of you, fucking you into the mattress.

Your cries are nice and loud. Good. “Ah! Yes, Hawks! Harder!”

He loves it. Keep crying out for him. “What’s that? Who’s the one fucking you right now?”

“Hawks!”

“Who makes you whine like a bitch in heat?”

“You! You do, Hawks!”

Hawks looks to the side to ensure that adorable bastard was watching.

Ah yes, he is. With those soulless eyes and blank expression. Always acting like everything was fine. Hawks growled and fucked you harder.

“Got nothing to say, little guy?”

“What, do you like watching your girl get taken by someone else? Is that what you’re into?”

You try to turn your head. “Hawks? Who are you talking to?”

He ignores you and keeps on going. “Do you wish you’re the one who can make her feel like this? Huh?!”

Still nothing. This little shit refuses to crack.

You follow Hawks’s gaze and are very confused to see where it lands. “A-are you talking to my stuffed animal?”

Your question seems to anger him as he humps you into the sheets. “Is that what he is to you? A plush and cuddly stuffed animal?”

“What? What the hell does that even mean?”

“You really don’t think that sweet little peacock wants more than just cuddles? That maybe he wants to be the one to have you?”

“WHAT?!”

You spring up fast enough to catch Hawks off-guard and knock him back onto his ass. “B-baby?” He says in wide-eyed confusion.

You stand up and angrily pull your panties back up. “You’ve done some crazy shit during your ruts, but this? I’m so done, you delusional horny competitive pigeon.” You stomp out of the room and shut the door before he can say anything more.

Hawks just stares at the door, shaking. The anger boiling within him was ready to bubble over. He glares at the cunning bastard responsible for this. ‘This is what he wanted. He wanted me to lose my cool when I thought I was winning.’ Of course you would want your two favorite birds to play nice. Why did he have to be so stupid? All he did was make the peacock look like the calm and civil guy while Hawks was trying to assert dominance like a savage.

“You haven’t won this. You’re a clever bastard, I’ll give you that. But I’ll always be the one she chooses.”

As always, the other bird stays silent. Maybe he agrees. Maybe he knows that you belong to Hawks and only Hawks, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to keep the winged hero on his toes, ready to snatch you away at any moment.

Tags

oh lord this is hilarious the grin on my face is large enough to hurt my cheeks the bird world is a comparative race for dominance but this may be a bit overwhelming lmao

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black-noir-ink

5 years ago

Lewd Awakenings (Hitoshi x Fem Reader)

Oh God, that vibes with me SO HARD. It’s a bit sped up but hope you enjoy it. Hitoshi asks get me going sometimes :sweats:

Warning: Smut, sleep fondling

It wasn’t often Hitoshi had a day off; if he wasn’t working hard to shut down villains, he was training by himself or with Aizawa.

Shinsou always made time for you, though; goodbye kisses in the morning, holding you as you fell asleep at night, and making it home just in time for a late dinner most evenings.

But man oh man, you lived for those rare days when he wrapped you up in sleepy cuddles, nuzzling against your hair as the two of you ignored the nagging sunrise as you drifted in and out of consciousness

“Hmm?” Something warm slipped under your shirt, “Hi..toshi?” you muttered, eyelids fluttering open slowly as a hand smoothed over your stomach.

“It’s just me,” he hummed, relishing in your soft moans as he placed slow, wet kisses on your neck, “you were making such sweet sounds… I couldn’t resist.”

Despite the sleepy haze, your body clearly enjoyed Hitoshi’s affections. Heat pooled between your thighs and your chest rose and fell with quickening breaths.

“It’s so earlyyy,” you whined, looking over at the clock that read 8:03AM, much too soon for shenanigans.

His other hand played lazily in your hair, twirling the soft strands between his fingers. Every so often he’d scratch your scalp, sending a pleasant shiver up your spine.

“I had a dream about you…” he whispered, nipping your jaw gently. His hand explored, carefully squeezing one full breast, “my hands were all over you there, too.”

“Ah~” you gasped as he thumbed your nipple, sending little jolts of electricity to your heated core.

“Luckily, my dream girl doesn’t vanish when I wake up,” the hero rolled on top of you, fully removing your shirt before taking one swollen nipple in his mouth. You whined as he sucked, flicking his tongue around the sensitive bud while one hand slipped between your legs.

“It must’ve been a -ah- r-really good dream,”

“Oh, it was,” he looked to you with half-lidded eyes, a sleepy smirk creeping on his face, “Want me to show you?”

“Fuck, yes.” Your mewls and moans had him straining against his boxers which he quickly shed and tossed aside. It didn’t take long for him to strip your sleep shorts, spreading your thighs and parting your already slick folds.

“Fuckkk. Such a pretty pussy…” he let your juices coat his fingers before slipping them inside with a groan. You welcomed him eagerly, enveloping him in a warmth and tightness that had him biting his lip and sighing through his nostrils. “This little pussy’s all mine.”

You whined, squirming your hips and begging for more friction. As much as he wanted to tease you, all he could manage was a few gentle pumps before your lust blown eyes and needy pleas made him throw restraint to the wind.

“Shit, you’re so fucking sexy when you beg like that.”

Hitoshi wasted no time lining himself up, dragging his heavy cock up and down your wet cunt. Rough hands kept your hips in place, preventing you from taking him in on your own.

“Know what the best part is, kitten?”

“What’s that?” you huffed, now painfully aroused and anxious to be fucked.

He kissed your neck, honing his cock head on your clit while you writhed beneath him. Your ear lobe slipped between his teeth and he sucked, nipping lightly before whispering, “You’re always so much better than my dreams.”

You cried out as he stretched your walls, heart jumping at the blissed-out expression he wore when he sank into your silky depths. God the way he filled you was addictive. Hitoshi always took his time. No matter how much he wanted to slam in to you, burying himself completely in your warm, wet walls, the patient hero refused to rush.

When he buried himself completely he held you close, opting for deep, steady thrusts right where you needed them.

“I need you to cum for me baby.”

Teeth met your collarbone as he nibbled his way up, kissing and licking your neck before meeting your lips in a heated kiss. His perfectly aimed cock kept dragging against that soft spongy flesh and it had you twitching and trembling as pressure the built inside you.

“Fuck Toshi, harder!”

Hitoshi didn’t miss a beat. He grabbed a fistful of hair, forcing your head in place as his low voice growled, “Yeah? You need it rough kitten?”

“YES!”

At times like these, you thanked any God you could for Hitoshi’s intense training. The man didn’t tire as he fucked you full force, just the way you wanted it. His hips slammed into you and your thighs gripped his waist for dear life.

“I’m gonna-” your words bit off when Hitoshi’s mouth crashed into yours, stealing your breath as you melted around his hard cock. Muffled moans vibrated against your lips as he relished in every throb and whimper you gave him. He spilled over the edge right along with you, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he filled your spasming pussy to the brim.

Spent and satisfied, the two of you just stayed there a while, catching your breath in between loving kisses.

“Hmm” he eyed you over skeptically, nuzzling his nose to yours after a moment. “Whew.”

“What?”

“Had to make sure you didn’t disappear on me. It’s hard to believe you’re real sometimes.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, pushing him off you only to lay on his chest as he beamed up at the ceiling.

“You’re so cheesy.”

“You love it.”

@cherrycolabomb @practisewhatyoupeach @the-angriestpineapple @ikinabi @katsukisprincess @secondhand-trash @shinsouzone @queensynderella @dabis-azure-songbird

Tags

yeah? you need it rough kitten? Oh unholy hell this is good that slayed me talk about bullseye on the kink department

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black-noir-ink

4 years ago

» 𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖙

𝖑𝖊𝖛𝖎 𝖆𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚞𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍, 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚒 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎, 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚒 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎.

𝚠𝚌: 𝟹.𝟻𝚔

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚍𝚘𝚖!𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚒, 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔, 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢. 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚡 𝚝𝚘𝚘

“Captain, please! I’m ready to be back in the field, Hange already cleared me for dutyㅡ”

Levi whirls around to face you and jabs a finger into the center of your chest, his stone grey eyes turning to slits in frustration.“You are not ready for the field, [L/N],” he snarls. “You have proven your recklessness enough to guarantee that you will never see outside Wall Rose again.”

You were momentarily taken aback by his sudden change in temperament; you were always so used to his disinterested stoicism. The sting of tears in your eyes forces you to look down at your feet in shame. Crying in front of the captainㅡyou had never felt more humiliated in your life. But he had no right to lock you up in the city while the rest of your squad was out beyond the wall, risking their lives. Your place was with them, and Levi knew it.

“I’m a better Scout than half the regiment,” you finally say through gritted teeth, still staring at the ground. “You think I’m reckless? Then go bench Mikasa too, while you’re at it.”

“Now you’re giving me orders?” he replies, dangerously soft.

You meet his eyes. His unreadable expression has returned. “I’m telling you to treat me fairly,” you say, crossing your arms.

“Life isn’t fair,” Levi snaps, turning away from you with a flourish of his cape. “I thought someone as smart as you would have figured that out by now.” He doesn’t stay long enough for you to spit whatever insult you had waiting on the tip of your tongue. You could do nothing but fume as Levi stalks away from you to rejoin the regiment.

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I feel so many emotions and yet I have so few words to express them I suppose this may just have left me speechless ...in all the best ways

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black-noir-ink

5 years ago

Nighttime Adventure (Erasermic dabble)

Okay! So I had a dream last night where the reader of @weebsinstash Ereasermic series felt so starved of affection that they couldn't fall asleep, and went over to their bedroom to snuggle - and of course when I woke up I just felt this ungodly need to write a little something based on it.

The inspiration was there and I wasn't about to not capitalize on that opportunity. That being said here's a little dabble for you based on that scenario.

Please note that this is literally the first time I’ve written something like this, so i’m unpracticed to say the least.

Nighttime Adventure

Your steps are slow and deliberate, trying to mask every noise emitted for the floorboard beneath you. You’re sure they can still hear you, they can hear every little sound in this blasted place. Though you were so sure just minutes before, you now feel your legs trembling with every step. Your feet feel like weights tied to you, like somewhere deep in your subconscious your own body is trying to stop you from what you’re about to do. Surely nothing good can come from it in the long run - but you can think about that now, you’re too caught up in the here and now.

With your heartbeat blaring through your body, leaving a slight ringing in your ears, you finally reached their door. It looms over you, tall and foreboding. Behind it you can hear the two men uttering small whispers of concern and confusion, ready to spring out of bed at a moments notice. You can’t help the small snort that escapes you at the irony of the situation, after all this must be the first time their vigilance would not be necessary.

As your hand make contact with the cold surface of the door, a slight shiver runs through you. The thought clears its way to the front of your mind; There was no turning back now, they knew you were standing there just as well as you did. If you tried turning back now to escape into the sanctity of your own room, they’d surely come right after you looking for answers as to your little nighttime adventure.

Taking a deep breath you begin to push the door open, it’s hinges screech loudly as if to beg you to stop, as it slowly slides open. You reflexively tilt your head to the side, eyes screwed shut. Maybe if you refuse to look then the reality of it all won't shift in just yet. But as you finally soak up your last bit of bravery you look up you see their dark forms looming in the distance. A heavy fog of uncertainty rolls over you, leaving you breathless. The silence among you is deafening as each of you wait for something, anything, to break it.

Surly what comes next would change everything for the foreseeable future. You can’t do anything more than wish upon the stars that you’ve made the right decision...

Tags

bnha erasermic eraserhead present mic yamada hizashi aizawa shouta yandere fanficton dabble honestly just practicing my writing skills

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black-noir-ink

3 years ago