#bard eithun

-

oystein "euronymous" aarseth

i soooo feel like he'd be the most jumpy and like paranoid about it

he'd prob full on scream or like yelp (lol) and clutch his pearls anytime he'd see you peaking around a corner or like standing as still as possible in the dark

i think, at first, he'd think its a little funny

the first time it happened, he was going to the fridge to grab a drink late in the night... probably around like 2 am.

he'd be half asleep, rubbing his eyes and yawning as he trudged to the fridge, grabbed his drink, turned around, and boom! there you were, just barely peeking around the edge of the fridge door, eyes wide, not moving, not blinking.

"jesus fucking christ!" he actually jumped. like foot flew off the ground. he almost dropped his drink lol

then he let out a laugh, trying to calm his heart literally beating hundreds of mph in his ribcage, "what the fuck is wrong with you?"

you stepped around the door as he shut it, smiling, but looking confused, "what are you talking about?"

he squinted at you, looking equally as confused as you did. he scoffed, "you know exactly what i'm talking about..." he was still smiling, but his brows were furrowed, "you were standing there like a ghost or something."

"i literally just walked in here? you're imagining things!" you turned around, waving him off as you made your way back to bed.

the second time... he was making his way down the hallway and he could just feel it... that heavy feeling of being watched. it stopped him dead in his tracks

you stood at the end of the hallway, half covered by the shadow... just standing

he froze for a second, and then let out a sigh when he realized it was you. "oh, come on! not again!"

he walked up to you, flicking your forehead. "you're having wayyy too much fun with this."

you cocked your eyebrow, feigning innocence. "i was just getting water. why are you being so weird?" you walked away before he could reply lol

he just stood there, dumbfounded.

after the third/fourth time it happened he began to start side-eyeing every corner, shadow, etc.

"i know its you there you little shit"

"idk what you're talking about???"

-

pelle "dead" ohlin

pelle would def out freak you i cannot lie LOL

he carries around dead animals and shit, he is like the last person i fear i'd EVER do this to...

he'd be sooo calm about it. you'd think you were scaring him but then he just stares at you all bug eyed and just says "i see you."

the first time you tried, he was on the couch minding his own

you snuck in and crept in the space between the couch and the wall, and stood there behind him, barely breathing.

after like 5 minutes you were honestly tired of just standing there and were ready to give up.

thats when he turned his head ever so slowly, looking at you with the most wide eyed blank expression, ever. dead stare. (no pun intended...) "what are you doing?"

his gaze honestly made your stomach drop. "um." (keep it up!! don't back down!!) "what are you talking about?"

you smiled awkwardly, and shuffled from behind the couch, just as awkwardly.

"you're an awful liar." he smiled to himself, dropping his bug-eyed expression, and returned to what he was doing.

the second time, you hid in the wardrobe.

you had the door slightly ajar, and your head peaked through the crack

you swore you waited maybe an hour until he finally noticed you...

when he FINALLY made eye contact with you through the crack, he just smiled and waved, as if it was nothing(????)

you stepped out, mildly offended tbf...

"i was trying to scare you..."

"yeah i know."

he just smiled at you, almost proud.

the third time, things flipped.

you were planning on hiding in the bathroom at night, peering out from the shower curtain in the dark.

pelle was out at practice, and you knew he usually used the bathroom once he came home

the second you opened the curtain, however, there it was.

staring you dead in your face.

a dead crow...

VERY dead... (maggots, the stench, etc...)

it was like he knew you'd be there.

you swore thats maybe the loudest you've ever screamed in your life

sooo that ended your little shtick prettyyyy quickly

-

bard "faust" eithun

faust is nooooot a fan. not a fan at all.

the first time you scared him, he was leaving the bathroom, still half draped with a towel and ever soooo tired from the late night.

you'd tucked yourself around the corner, and leaned out just enough where the morning light hit your face just right

the second he saw you he jumped so hard that he nearly fell backwards, slamming his shoulder into the wall in the process.

"what the fuck is wrong with you??"

you stepped out, feigning innocence, and seeming more concerned about his shoulder than anything.

you didn't really expect him to injure himself... oops.

"oh my god are you okay?"

he stared at you, pursed lips and wide eyes. he was haphazardly holding his towel up with one hand, and his other was outstretched in a "wtf???" sort of way

"why were you standing there like that? you scared the shit out of me!"

"i've literally been in the bedroom this whole time?" you pointed to the ajar door behind you, "i heard you run into the wall, and came to check on you."

faust's mouth dropped open, as if he was going to say something, and then he just pushed past you.

you heard him curse under his breath as he stormed away.

the second time was lowkey even better...

faust was walking through the dark living room at night, making his way over to turn on the lamp.

you were standing completely still by the bookshelf

faust pulled down the chain to click on the light, and the second he saw you he let out such a loud shriek

without even thinking, he reached down and grabbed a pillow, tossing it at you

you caught it as it hit your chest, "oh my god are you okay?"

he sat down in defeat on the couch, his head resting in his hands. "stop doing that shit!"

you cocked an eyebrow, looking at him like you had no clue wtf he was talking about "umm? i was grabbing my book?"

he ran his hand through his hair, looking at you dumbfounded "i literally saw you. you were standing there."

you reached up, grabbing a random book to make your case more plausible. "oystein said you've been smoking too much..." you mumbled as you pushed past him. "maybe you should slow down."

he watched you walk away, then looked around the room as if there was some imaginary crowd watching you two

"what the literal fuck...?"

from that point, anytime he suspected you were about to scare him again, he would just chase you away, threatening to "throw your scary ass out the window"

-

stian "occultus" johannsen

oookay so i think this ended pretty quickly :')

you were staring at him through the crack of the office door.

he was pretty occupied working at his desk

you swore you stood there for maybe an hour at this point...

FINALLY, he arose from the chair and in his daze, he was rubbing his eyes, and walked through the door

which inturn, meant he walked straight into you

he stumbled over you, sort of stepping on your hand as he fell into the wall across the door

"oh my god, are you okay???"

"yeah im fine! dude are you okay??"

"yeah omg i didn't even know you were there."

"umm i was just walking down the hall? wym?"

so atleast you got to girlboss gaslight!

From the moment he saw you in Øystein's bed, wearing his clothes, tangled in his sheets, Faust felt a pit in his stomach that he couldn't seem to shake.

Nobody had to explicitly say that the two of you had gotten together. It had been a long time coming, and everyone had known. Even him. You could pretend that you hated eachother as much as you wanted, but there had always been tension that felt heavier than hatred.

He'd never understand why it had to be Øystein and not him.

Faust had loved you from the second he met you. Everyone seemed to know it. Everyone but you, that is.

It wasn't like he'd done much to hide it. He'd been mooning over you for well over a year by that point. Every look of longing and arm slung over your shoulder when it was cold out.

He'd met you first, and couldn't help but feel like he'd been mistaken to introduce you to the other boys in the first place.

You wouldn't have moved into the Mayhem house.

Wouldn't have gotten as close with Pelle and Jan Axel. Hell, even Jorn, who didn't live in the house, but was always around anyway to play with the rest of the band.

You wouldn't have bonded with Øystein over finding Pelle.

Maybe, you just didn't know that Faust was an option?

He'd never explicitly told you that he had a romantic interest in you. He'd thought that he was being painfully obvious about it, but really, everyone flirted with you. You and Jan had jokingly been overly flirtatious since you'd started living together, but it quickly became clear that it wasn't actually real when you didn't flinch any of the times he brought a girl home. How could you know that it was any different when Faust did it?

Maybe he just needed to show you how much you meant to him.

It took him over a week and a good few beers to talk himself into actually doing it.

"Wait." Faust reached for your hand and tugged you back to the couch before you could follow Øystein back up the stairs after a night of partying. Everyone else had gone home and it was just the two of you left in the basement. "Hang back for a minute?"

You went without thinking. Of course you did. Faust was probably your best friend. He knew you better than any of the other boys, even Øystein. He'd put in the effort in the early days to soak up every word that spilled from your lips and hadn't stopped since.

"So," Faust wasn't sure how to start, eyes bouncing from yours to the stairs to make sure you were still alone. "You and Øystein?"

"Yeah." You chuckled softly, scrubbing your hands over your face in an effort to wake yourself up. "Who would've thought?"

"You deserve better!" He blurted, eyes going wide as soon as your gaze snapped up to meet yours, brows pulled together lightly. Not angry, but as if you were waiting for him to elaborate.

"I just." Faust sighed heavily and quickly downed what was left of his drink. "I thought you hated eachother. You know?"

You opened your mouth to say something, but once he'd gotten started, he couldn't stop.

"He's an asshole, Angel. The other night, with Varg? I never would have let that happen to you. I would never shout at you the way he does or be mean. You're so kind and good and he's cool and all. My friend. But, he doesn't deserve you."

"Faust?" You breathed, frowning like you didn't understand.

God, why couldn't you see him?

How could you not see the love for you in his eyes.

"I love you." He rasped, reaching out to take your hand in his, cradling it to his chest. "I have loved you for so long and I need you to know that before you get swept up in Øystein's bullshit, because he could never love you the way I do. And I'm sorry that I never said anything, but I was scared. I was scared that you couldn't love me back and that I would completely ruin things if I told you how I felt, and-"

Faust had to stop to catch his breath.

"You have never been mine." He swallowed thickly, big brown eyes boring down into yours intensely "But I was yours. Always."

"I love you too, Faust." Your eyes were wet, but a little sad. And, still, He let hope well up in his chest until you opened your mouth and continued. "But not in that way."

His shoulders slumped and his gaze darted over to the stairs. His only exit.

"But you love him?" He asked softly, a little afraid of your answer.

"I don't know." You breathed shakily. "I think I could."

"You don't think you could love me?"

"I do love you." you insisted, vioce wavering like you were near tears "Just not in the way you want me to, and I'm sorry for that, Faust. I really am, but I can't help how I feel. At least I know that I love you. You're my family. My best friend."

"Right." Faust let go of your hand and nodded tightly, offerering a strained, weak smile "I understand."

You called after him, but he was already half way to the stairs by the time you had pulled yourself to your feet.

He couldn't turn to look at you.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Faust is a big softie, and the last thing he would ever want is for you to be needlessly sore after being stretched out by his impressive length. He’d love drawing you a bath and helping you wash up. Washing your hair is one of his favourite things to do, and he’d give you the scalp massage of your dreams, careful not to let you fall asleep in the tub. When you’re all cleaned up, he’d wrap you up in a towel and either help you get dressed or grab you a glass of water while you get settled in bed.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I think that on himself, Faust likes his hands. Likes knowing that they can bring you to the edge of bliss in an impressive amount of time. They’re his livelihood. vessels for the music that flows through him, and he’d be a fool to take them for granted. 

But on you? He’d have trouble deciding. Your tits consume his thoughts throughout the day, and he never passes up an opportunity to grab at them or rest his head on them like a pillow when the two of you are flitting about your shared apartment. But your thighs. Oh, god, your thighs. He could worship them all night long and die a happy man. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Faust is a condom hater and loves blowing his load deep inside you. He’ll drape himself over the end of your bed, watching his seed leak out of you, and would fuck it back into you with his fingers. I don’t think he’s squeamish about sticking his fingers in his mouth afterwards either. The combination of your slick and the residual cum, is just as intoxicating as watching it seep from your spent hole. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) 

Half the time, when he’s pumping you full of cum, he’s thinking about how beautiful you’d look carrying his baby. The soft swell of your belly and the way your skin would be stretched tight over it. He may not be ready for the responsibility that comes with having a child, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to go out of his way to prevent it from happening, obviously, only if you’re on the same page. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

This man was a total virgin before you met. Hadn’t even kissed anyone. But what he lacks in experience, he certainly makes up for in enthusiasm. He’d be so attentive to what you like and what you don’t like. Which spots to focus on and when to give them special attention based on the sounds you make alone. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes to see your face while you’re being intimate. He’s heavy on the eye contact, and his favourite positions would be missionary or cowgirl so he can watch your face as you come undone. Cowgirl helps with his size, for you at least. You get to control exactly how deeply he gets to bury himself into your warmth. I can only see him enjoying Doggy style if it’s in front of a mirror. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I think he’s serious and a little insecure, no matter how long the two of you have been together. He gets a little blushy, but I couldn’t see him laughing during sex.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think he keeps himself trimmed, close to the skin, not smooth, but not prickly either. He’d trim it maybe once a week.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

This man will give you the most loving look of adoration while he’s fucking you. He looks at you like you’re something precious, and to him, you are. He’d be so gentle with you and make sure to tell you how good you’re making him feel. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I think that before the two of you met, Faust was a fucking his fist everytime he’s in the shower kind of guy. But once he has you, he very rarely needs relief that doesn’t come from your warmth. When he’s on tour, he’d keep a couple of naughty Polaroids handy and would call you every night for some phone sex. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lowkey has a knifeplay kink. I think it would take him forever to admit it, but he’s got a thing for blood, and I think he’d get a bit feral whenever you’re on your period. Despite not wanting to hurt you, he’d love watching you try and take his entire length, so maybe a bit of a size kink. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

I don’t see Faust as being an exhibitionist, so he probably wouldn’t fuck you in public, unless you really wanted to. I think he’d like the intimacy of making love in your bed, where you’ve made a home and chosen to live together. It’s a place that belongs entirely to the two of you, and he'd find that special.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Just about everything you do turns this man on. Teasing gets him, big time. He’ll fall for the slightest move every time. Extra short skirt? He’s following you around like a lost puppy, staring at your ass unabashedly until you let him take you home. An extra-long, lingering touch? He’s done for. Sometimes, you can get him with just a heated look.  

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

You could get on your hands and knees and beg him to smack you around a little in the bedroom, and he’d never cave. Post Murder Faust would get a little rougher with you, but he’d never hit you. Ever.  

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a MUNCH. This fucker loves eating pussy so much he’d do it all day if you let him. He’d get on his hands and knees and beg for it if he’d gone long enough without tasting you. He’s sick for it. I think he’d last all of thirty seconds if you gave him head, though. He just can't take it and knows how easy it would be to hurt you just by bucking his hips a little too far. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I think that sex with Faust would always start off slow and sensual. He’s real loving with it and afraid to hurt you, but I think that when he’s getting close to cumming, he loses control a bit and momentarily forgets his strength and slams into you hard and fast. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

This man will take anything from you. He’d be inside you all day every day if you let him, so if you want a quickie, he’s always down. In a bathroom or backstage after a gig when he’s all riled up with adrenaline from being on stage, he’s dragging you off to get a quick fuck before going to whatever afterparty is popping off that night.  

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He will try almost anything you express interest in, short of hurting you. I just think he’d be a little shy bringing up his own fantasies and ideas, especially in the early days of your relationship, where he’s still getting all blushy every time you even kiss him on the cheek. However, once he gets really comfortable with you, a single sip of beer loosens his lips enough to whisper his dirtiest thoughts into your ear. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I don’t think that Faust bounces back that quickly. I’d say at least half an hour in between rounds. He loses his mind when he’s inside you and would absolutely be finished in just a couple of minutes if he weren’t focusing on not cumming.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

As we saw in plug and play, this man goes feral for both butt and pussy plugs. The thought of fucking his cum back into you and plugging you up to keep it inside you for the rest of the day ruins him. He also loves knowing that you’re standing backstage or in the crowd at his gigs with a big plug stretching out your hole, keeping you nice and ready for him as soon as he’s done. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Faust can’t tease you for shit. A little bit of whining, or, god help him, begging, will get you anything you want. He just wants to make you feel good and has no interest in making you wait for what you need. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

This man cannot shut up when he’s inside you. There is no controlling the volume of the sounds falling from his lips. They range from muttered curses, usually in his mother tongue, just as he’s finishing, or soft, breathy moans that embarrass the hell out of him despite your insistence that you like all his noises. He’s a rambler, too. He’ll mutter praise into your ear while he slowly rolls his hips into yours, telling you what a good job you’re doing and that you’re taking him so well.  

W =  Wearing (what do they like you to wear, if anything?)

His absolute favourite is obviously nothing at all, but I think he’d love letting his fingers creep up the hem of a short dress or skirt and realizing that you’re not wearing panties. Seeing you in his clothes always gets him, too. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Massive cock. I cannot be convinced otherwise. I’m talking big enough that when you see it for the first time, you’re gonna be wondering how on earth it’s gonna fit, and honestly, it probably won't. Not the whole thing and certainly not without a lot of effort and determination on your part. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Faust is 100% capable of giving you physical affection without it leading to horniness. He’d love holding you and kissing you all sweetly, but he’s ready to go at the drop of a hat. You give him the eyes in a bar while you’re having drinks with the boys? He’ll gladly bend you over the bathroom sink. Back your ass up into him while you’re spooning at night, he’ll rub right back against you, groaning softly into your hair. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I think he’d only sleep when you want to. He wouldn’t just roll over and pass out unless you’re safely tucked in his arms and also drifting off to sleep. He’d fight sleep just to stay up with you, and if you got out of bed and had things to do, he’d be right behind you, hanging off of you while you did whatever it is you’re doing. 

Dividers and Banners by me on my side-blog @dividers-are-us

Usually, when Faust gets home from work, you're either curled up on the couch or flitting about in the kitchen trying to surprise him with a home-cooked meal.

It always worried him a little when you weren't waiting for him.

He knew you were home.

Your car was outside, and your bag and shoes were in their regular spot by the door. But the couch was undisturbed, and the only sign you'd been in the kitchen was an open bottle of paracetamol on the counter.

It gave him a pretty good idea of what was going on.

Sure enough, he found you in bed, curled up in a ball and clearly in pain.

"Angel?" He draped his coat over the chair in the corner and sat on the edge of the mattress, running a warm palm over your back. "You alright?"

"No," you grumbled, peeking up at him through your hair. "I got my period."

"I thought so." He nodded solemnly, brushing your hair out of your face softly. "Do you need anything?"

You made a sound that vaguely resembled an 'I don't know', still buried in blankets.

Ignoring your groan in protest, Faust peeled back the blankets and saw that you were still wearing jeans.

He covered you back up and ducked down to press his lips to the side of your head before going into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

When he came back, you hadn't moved.

He grabbed you a pair of shorts and one of his t-shirts, and pulled your blankets away again.

You whined, but stopped when you saw the clothes in his hands.

"C'mon, Angel." Faust nudged you up until you were sitting and helped you get your shirt off, replacing it with one of his band tees.

You couldn't help the sting behind your eyes when he gently peeled off your jeans and dressed you in your favourite comfy shorts.

"Better?" he asked softly, smiling when you nodded begrudgingly. "Good."

He left the room and came back a couple of minutes later with the hot water bottle wrapped in a towel and a mug of your favourite tea.

You made room for him and crawled into his lap with little prompting, sighing in relief when he wrapped his arms around you and held the hot water bottle to your lower abdomen.

"Thank you," You muttered, leaning into his chest. "Missed you."

"I missed you, too, Angel." He smiled into the crown of your head, always surprised by how giddy it still made him to hear you say things like that, even after years together. "Is it helping?"

"Yeah."

"Did you eat anything?"

"I had lunch." You wound your arms around his, knowing what was coming.

"That was hours ago," Faust frowned, trying to get up. "I'll make you something."

"Not yet." You clung to him, whining into his chest, "Just stay here with me."

You could feel him thinking it over.

"Please?" You pulled back to give him the most pitiful, puppy-eyed pout you could muster.

"Don't look at me like that," He groaned, burying his face in your hair. "You have to eat something, Angel. You'll feel better if you do.

"Just a little longer?"

"A little longer."