#There are so many contradictions n stuff

[rockingthegraveyard]

how much of Cassandra Cains comics have you read?

pppppppp none 🫣

I'm relatively new to the comic scene. I've read most of the comics with Jason but I'm still making my way through some. I mostly rely on those posts a list of the issues the characters are featured in. I've yet to come across one for Cass.

I've read a few posts that have talked about her but until I get around to her, I only have what I read from others.

[brittlebutch]

tbh Zelda's "I think I just need to freak out for a little bit" line in Belles of the Baronies might be one of my favorite lines from her; peak "I'm not fine but it's fine" phrasing

[kandicon]

*through gritted teeth* there is no shame in tagging a for fun fic with the fandom tag of multiple continuities. Mixing continuities can't hurt me

[kimstills]

blame

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader, platonic!spencer x reader summary: in which your close relationship with spencer makes aaron wonder if there’s something going on between you and the young doctor. content warnings: mentions of kidnappings, torture, child abuse (typical cm case stuff), insecurities, age gap, and haley, jealous!aaron (hb is DOWN BAD), he kind of acts like a prick in the middle of this? but it’s v brief and he apologizes!! hints of autistic!spence, angst if u squint but mostly fluff, miscommunication, technically idiots to lovers but hotch is the only idiot <3 word count: 5.1k (this was NOT supposed to be this long omfg) a/n: this was inspired by a dream i had where i was besties w reid and everyone thought i liked him until i had to blurt out that i was into older men… enjoy!!

If looks could kill, Aaron was sure Spencer would be dead by now.

It was contradicting, in a way. How he thought of Spencer like the son that had come before his actual son, yet he was staring at him like a predator stalking their next victim.

You were standing next to the young genius, shoulders brushing against shoulders as you went back and forth with the geographical profile the two of you had been assigned to work on, something Aaron was really regretting having done.

The team had been called in to assist with a case in Portland, Maine, involving an abductor-type unsub. One who would stalk his victims and learn their routines before kidnapping them, torturing them for two to three days before disposing of them in forests and parks all throughout the city.

You and Reid were both tied when it came to your skills with geographical profiles, one of the many things that had blossomed your relationship with him. But with the way the unsub was beginning to rapidly devolve, the rush to develop said profile and figure out his next move had forced Aaron to assign you two together.

Deep down he knew that it had to be done for the sake of the case and all its victims, and that it was the best decision to make as leader of the team.

But, still, he couldn’t help the jealousy that was bubbling from within him, his gaze completely focused on the way you giggled and smiled, endeared, while watching Reid struggle to tape the map one of the sheriffs had supplied you with to a spare whiteboard in the office the team had been given to work in.

He hadn’t even noticed when JJ walked up to him, the blonde hair and white button up she was wearing apparently not enough to break him out of his trance until—

“Hotch.”

Aaron snaps his head towards her, blinking in bewilderment, “Sorry, what?”

JJ stares at him with a look of both concern and amusement, a smile tugging at her lips. Her hand is raised expectantly and her eyes flicker towards the case file in his hands.

He looks down at it, brows furrowing when he finally sees the death grip he was holding the paper with. It’s slightly crumpled from where his thumb had rested, the pages wrinkled.

He clears his throat, trying to soothe out the file as subtly and smoothly as he can before handing it to JJ, “Sorry,” he grumbled.

The blonde chuckles softly, taking it from him and doing her own best to bend it back into place. She begins to flip through the pages, though she can’t help but follow Aaron’s gaze back to you and Spencer.

You had finally gotten up to help him in taping up the map, taking it from his hands and effortlessly doing so before turning around and giving him a cheeky smile.

JJ turns her attention back to him, biting back a smug smile when she sees her boss practically glaring daggers at the two of you, “I assume you’re trying to figure them out, too?” She asks, looking down at the file.

Aaron blinks, this time slowly turning his head to gaze down at her, “What do you mean?”

Her eyes widen at the realization of what she just had insinuated about her co-workers to her boss. She shrugs coolly, trying to play it off, “Nothing. They’re just really close is all,” she gives him a tight-lipped smile before quickly walking away, leaving Aaron more confused than before.

He feels his fingers twitch by his side when he glances back at you. It’s cheesy, the way his heart skips a beat when you tuck the strands of hair that had made itself to the front of your face behind your ears. His hardened features soften at the sight of you laughing at something Reid’s said, something he’s sure only the two of you understand.

Aaron’s not sure what it was that had gotten him to stick out for you like a sore thumb or how his sudden infatuation with watching and admiring you and your every move had happened.

All he could recall was that it happened, and it had happened too fast for him to begin realizing how you had begun to overcome his every thought and consume him with feelings he hadn’t felt since Haley’s passing and his marriage with her.

A part of him had told himself that he wasn’t to blame; not only were you one of the best agents he had ever worked with, but you were the loveliest and wholesome of humans.

You had your rough days, everyone on the team understandably did, yet you never failed to meet people with kindness and patience, something else that Aaron wasn’t used to receiving when it came to his co-workers. And, as much as they loved him and he loved them, even his team members were prone to calling him ‘cold’ and ‘stoic.’

While you, on the other hand would always meet him with fond, bright smiles and greetings, never once avoiding his gaze or running the opposite direction as to ‘not get in his way’ like others did.

You were like the sun peeking out of the clouds after a dark and tremendous storm, shining on him with such warmth.

So, in the end, he couldn’t really help himself from falling for you. Or for even feeling childishly jealous when you were shining your warmth onto others.

Especially with someone who apparently the rest of the team suspected you of dating.

Perhaps he couldn’t blame Spencer for falling for you, too.

Everyone meant well, and Aaron knew he was also victim to cutting him off when the boy rambled, but you were the only one who truly listened to him. Who would interrupt him gently during urgent matters and let him continue after they were solved, and never made him feel inadequate.

He doesn’t know how he hadn’t seen it before now that JJ has mentioned it—too blindsided with his own feelings for you—but he begins to wonder, though, if there actually is something more between the two of you.

He likes to think that he begins playing close attention to your mannerism, body language, and shared interactions the two of you have throughout the entirety of the case because he has to. Now that it's been brought to his attention that two of his subordinates might be in a relationship, it's his job as Unit Chief to keep tabs.

So, he watches, when the whole team is sitting in the rectangular table, debriefing with one another and sharing ideas all whilst munching on take out food.

"So, we obviously know that the significance of the victim's being dumped in nature spots is important to this guy," Morgan explains, motioning his hand around the air as he goes on, "but could it be that he kidnaps and keeps his victims in similar spots, just somewhere more secluded?"

"Spencer and I were thinking that that could be a possibility," you say, stealing a fry off of said boy's take out plate, "Maybe he doesn't live in these same places, but he could be taking them to a hidden spot somewhere in the forests, something possibly hidden by debris, wood, or anything makeshift."

Spencer doesn't even blink as you continue to steal more neglected food off his plate, continuing to sort through pictures. Aaron could see Emily and Derek give each other a knowing, smug look through his peripheral.

He manages to swallow, the tip of his middle finger and thumb tapping against one another, "What else have you two come up with regarding the geographical profile?"

"Well, besides where he himself could be living or where he could keep his victims, the whole profile is scattered," Spencer answers this time, sliding the plate towards you as he sets down a picture of each victim with the name of the forests and parks they were found in written underneath. "The first two victims were dumped in a forest, the third in a park, and the fourth in another forest.."

As he goes on, you take advantage to continue eating, the way in which he had just let you eat off his plate despite his known phobia of germs not going unnoticed by everyone else.

If that one wasn't a sign, Aaron didn't know what else was.

*

With the geographical profile being all over the place, Aaron decides on pulling you away from the task the following day, instead pairing you up with him to check out the crime scene of the most recent victim.

He doesn't know if it's the leader in him doing so, pulling you away from your original project he had tasked you to do, or if it's just the mix of both curiosity and jealousy that continues to gnaw at him.

He was a grown man, for Christ's sake. Yet he couldn't help the way his heart churned when you hold his hand for a second longer than necessary after he helps you climb up the small, but frosty hill.

"Thanks," you mumble sweetly, your shoulders brushing against him as you walk past him and towards the await detectives.

Aaron trails behind you, trying to calm his beating heart as the lead detective on the case walks you both towards the victim's body.

"This is the second victim that's been dumped in a park," you start, squatting down to inspect the cuts and bruises on the woman's face. "These sites are obviously more public than the forests, yet he still leaves them in more secluded spots, away from general view."

"Well, we ruled out that he can't feel any remorse or sympathy," Aaron adds while he looks around the now closed off park. "He holds and tortures these women for hours."

You stand from your spot, placing your hands on your hips as you look around the park. Aaron recognizes the face you make as your 'thinking' face, your eyes squinted and your nose scrunched.

"What is it?" He asks, trying to meet your wandering gaze.

“Reid and I were talking about the possibility of the unsub dumping his victims in the same places where half—if not all—of his childhood abuse took place,” you miss the way his breath hitches in his throat and the way his shoulders sag slightly, continuing. “We know that he has to be a local here from Portland—probably raised around these same areas—and that he was abused severely as a child.”

Aaron tries his best to nod as nonchalantly as possible, “Something from his childhood obviously triggered him for him to start abducting and inflict the same pain on the victims before leaving them in similar places where he could have been left as a child after being abused.”

“Exactly,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “We were theorizing around that idea for a while but weren’t too sure if the abuse could play such a huge part on his M.O.”

At the mentions of you and Reid again, Aaron couldn’t help but feel like an idiot.

Not only was he a grown man, but he was also your boss. And you were his subordinate, someone he should never had feelings for in the first place and someone he shouldn’t be feeling possessive over as if anything was to truly ever happen between you.

At first he had thought that Spencer wasn’t to blame for having the same feelings Aaron so strongly harbored for you. But, maybe, you weren’t the one to blame.

For falling for someone more your age, for someone you worked and paired so well with, for someone nobody else made such a grand effort to understand the way you did.

Not only was he a grown man and your boss, but he was also double your age, a single father, and a widower.

Swallowing harshly, he pulls out his phone from his suit’s inner pocket, “I’ll have Garcia check out any reported speculations of childhood abuse in these areas and see if she can narrow down our list,” He turns, using his height to his advantage and speeding off, leaving you completely behind.

You frown, rushing to catch up to him. You halt when you come to the same frosty hill he had helped you climb up and open your mouth to call for his help, but close it back up when you see he’s already made it back to the SUV and is climbing inside.

When you finally climb inside the car after successfully managing to climb down the hill without busting your ass, he’s talking with Garcia.

You wait patiently as he drives, the phone on speaker as he gives out quick orders that your friend rushes to catch up with. You try to take the chance of speaking up once he hangs up with her, but he’s quickly dialing for Rossi afterwards.

You’re quiet throughout the ride back to the precinct, the sudden change in mood too heavy for you to gather the courage to make any sort of conversation. Once parked in front of the building, he gets out right away, slamming the door while you’re barely unblocking your seatbelt.

You make a beeline to the conference room where you find Reid, no longer paying any mind on trying to find Aaron any longer.

Spencer jumps when you hurriedly slam the door behind you, eyes filling with worry when you lean against the wood and stare at the floor pensively, “You okay?” he asks.

“Fine,” you mumble, pushing yourself off the door and taking a seat across from him. “I just got back from the latest crime scene with Hotch and he started acting so weird after I told him about our theory of the unsub’s dumping pattern.”

“Weird how?”

You move to speak, but hesitate when you realize that going into detail about how cold your boss suddenly acted towards you after being used to receiving such kind—some might say preferable—treatment would make your friend speculate things he, of all people, did not need to speculate.

You shake your head, “Nothing. He’s probably just stressed or tired,” you drop your forehead onto the table’s cold wood, your arms stretched out in front of you. “I know I am.”

A beat of silence passes before you hear a creak and the feeling of a finger press against your index. You bite back a laugh, looking up to find Spencer leaning forward in his own seat to do a ‘finger touch,’ something you had come up with for him after realizing how persistent his germophobia was, even with the people he loved the most.

You smile at him, leaning your head on one of your forearms and pressing your finger into his.

From outside the glass-windowed office, Aaron watches you both, a solemn look on his face.

*

The case is finally closed once you and Spencer’s theory is proven right, the unsub securely put away and the green light to go home given at last. But with the late night icy weather too dangerous for the jet to take off, Aaron orders for everyone to instead turn in for the night at the hotel and head out first thing tomorrow morning instead.

He gives a silent thanks to no one in particular when he finds out it's his turn to have a room all for himself, the rotation always being cheated by Dave, Derek, or Emily that he always forgets who's next.

Shockingly enough, he's ready to turn in for the night, not even sparing an extra glance to any of the files he had brought with him as he prepares for bed. He's just about to sit down when a knock comes from behind his door, echoing throughout his room.

He lets out a quiet groan but stands nonetheless, rubbing tiredly at his face before swinging the door open. His first instinct is to snap at whoever's behind, but that's before his eyes cast over you.

You're fiddling with your fingers, dressed in your pajamas that consists of an off-the-shoulder shirt that dips low enough to show off your collarbone and the very top of your chest, your bra strap in the middle.

And, despite the chilly weather outside, you were wearing shorts. A pair of cotton shorts that peek out from underneath the shirt you were wearing and leave little to the imagination—more so, Aaron’s imagination.

Truth be told, he's seen you in a lot less. Your usual team outing outfits consisted of tank tops, baby tees, shorts, and slightly more revealing clothes.

But this, seeing you in what you would normally sleep in, sends him into a completely different spiral.

You cringe and immediately panic at the thought of having woken him up, "Sorry, were you already asleep?" you ask, taking a tentative step back.

Aaron blinks and clears his throat, the pads of his thumb and middle finger once again tapping against one another, "No," He lies. "I was barely getting ready."

Your shoulders drop and the panic dissipates as a small smile replaces it, “Oh, okay,” you bring your hands behind your back, rocking on your heels, “I just wanted to talk to you. If that’s alright?”

Aaron’s brows furrow though he immediately steps to the side to allow you in, a soft ‘of course’ following.

He takes in the way you hesitantly step in, back facing him and arms still intertwined behind your back.

You’re being respectful, probably hoping that you’re not overstepping with whatever it is that you want to talk about. And though you always are, he can’t tell if you’re nervous, worried, or filled with insomnia that you just couldn’t sleep.

“Is everything alright?” He finally asks when you don’t make a move to sit down anywhere, his hands slightly ajar to his side like he’s ready to reach out and touch you.

God, how he wishes he could touch you.

You clear your throat and turn around, “Actually, I was just coming to ask you the same thing,”

The harsh lines on Aaron’s face deepen when you take a seat on the edge of the bed, glancing beside you as a signal for him to join you.

He swallows as he does so, careful not to sit too close and award you space. His eyes flicker back up at you when he hears your breath hitch.

Seconds of silence pass before you shuffle closer to him, bringing your body forward so that you were staring at him directly.

“Are you… feeling okay?”

Aaron freezes, his movements completely stilling at your question. His mind begins to race with all the possibilities of what could have brought on your question when it clicks.

How he had concurred that you and him were completely different and could never be a possibility, and how he immediately decided that acting cold towards you would shun out the feelings he’s felt for so long now.

Another clear of his throat, he replies, “I’m fine.”

You raise a brow at him, giving him a look that shows that you know he’s not telling the truth.

“Are you sure?” you ask again, this time more firmly. “I don’t mean to overstep, but you’ve been acting rather…strange ever since you and I got back from the fifth victim’s crime scene.”

Aaron cringes at how your expression turns into a sad one, quickly masking it with one of concern afterwards.

He sighs. He supposes that if there’s a possibility that you and Spencer are dating, now’s the time to ask you about it.

He makes a show of staring directly at you in the same way he does when he’s in his ‘boss mode,’ trying to study your face before he asks the question, “Is there something I should know about you and Spencer?”

That wasn’t what you were expecting.

You’re taken aback, quite literally flinching as if you had been struck. It takes you a few seconds to take in what he’s just asked you, and you shake your head almost as if it wasn’t real.

“I’m sorry?”

The desperation gnaws at him once more, and he’s not sure which side of him wants to find out the answer.

“Are you and Spencer dating?” he asks again, voice somehow unwaveringly calm as he punctuates each word clearly.

Your mouth opens in shock, letting out a sound that’s half a scoff half a broken laugh. You look around the room in utter bewilderment.

“What correlation does my relationship with Spencer have with what I asked you?” You can’t tell if you’re angry or just confused, but you stand from the bed and stare down at him.

Aaron follows your lead, “I never noticed it before until the rest of the team pointed it out, but you two are close. Close in such a way that—” He swallows, “—as your boss, I have to ask.”

Before the rest of the team pointed it out. Of course.

You fully scoff this time, “As my boss, you should know that Spencer and I have always been close,” you concur.

“Then why can’t you look at me?”

Despite your heart hammering in your chest, you force yourself to look at him, “Excuse me?”

“You’re not looking at me, you’re getting defensive, and you’re practically avoiding the question,” he says, his own gaze practically boring into you.

“Hotch—”

“You’re deflecting by saying that I should know that you two have always been close, and while I do know that, you’re still not answering my question.”

It feels cruel of him to press you for answers like this, knowing that there was an easier way to do it.

“Reid and I are not dating!” you do your best to not shout it at him in fears of waking the rest of the team up, fists balled at your sides.

“Then why are you so nervous?” he asks, taking a step closer to you. “Why can’t you still look at me?”

“Because it’s you that I like!”

You slap your hands over your mouth immediately and the room falls silent.

Aaron blinks. Once, twice, three times.

You liked him?

You lower your hands, nervously brushing your hair behind your ears as you look around the room in a state of panic, “I-I’m just going to go,” you mumble and immediately rush towards the door.

Aaron stands the for a second, too frozen to do or say anything before his own panic settles in brazenly. His body moves before he has time to register what he's doing and what he'll do when he reaches you.

He wraps an arm around your forearm just as you open the door, halting you from stepping outside, "Y/N, wait,"

"Hotch, please," you're quick to try and release yourself from his grasp, yanking your arm towards yourself in what results as a poor attempt. "Just ignore what I said."

"I can't do that," he dips his head to try and get you to look at him but you simply avoid your gaze even more than your originally had, your cheeks flushed.

"Hotch, let me go!" you whisper-shout, once more fighting his grip. “I’m already embarrassed enough, I don’t need you chastising me anymore.”

“I’m not chastising you, Y/N,” Aaron’s sure he sounds as desperate as you probably feel, but he can’t find it in himself to let you go and ruin his one chance of bringing his feelings to the light. Even if it went against everything he had been telling himself earlier that week.

“Do you not think it’s possible for me to feel the same way?”

Your head snaps towards him, your movements suddenly rigid at his question, “W-What?”

You’re sure that, if your heart hadn’t raptured beforehand, it certainly will now.

Aaron takes you letting your guard down as the chance to bring a hand to your waist and pull you back into the room, shutting the door and thanking that nobody else from the team had emerged from the commotion.

“What do you mean by that?” you’re quick to ask, staring up at him with curious, yet hopeful eyes.

He lowers his head as to avoid your gaze this time, letting out a deep breath. Everything he wanted to do now went against everything he had told himself the day before, when he ridiculed himself for ever thinking that you would like someone such as him or that something could ever happen between you two.

“Hotch,” your voice is firm and you allow yourself to take a step closer to him. You need him to look at you, to give you some sort of clue that he didn’t just say what he said to play you, to get you to re-enter the room just so he could profile you even more. “What do you mean by that?”

Repeating your question doesn’t help him and it certainly doesn’t help the way his heart hammers in his chest, a sound so loud that he’s sure you can hear it from how close you’re standing.

“You like me?” you whisper, dipping your head to try and meet his eyes. How ironic that just a couple of seconds ago you were trying to avoid it.

Aaron shrugs, finally looking up, “How could I not?”

His boyish, yet vulnerable expression makes your breath hitch.

“I said that I had to know if there was something between you and Reid as your boss, but it was just because I was jealous,” he shakes his head, trying his best to suppress an all but amused smile. “It was immature of me, really.”

You shake your head, trying to collect both your own thoughts and everything he was telling you. He had been jealous?

“So, is that you acted that way after I told you about our theory in the park?”

The way in which he left you behind in both the park and in the parking lot of the precinct hits him like a brick, cringing at his actions, "I realized then, when you were talking about what you had both come up with, how compatible you two are. How it would make more sense for you to like someone more suited for you. I'm sorry for how I acted,"

Your heart breaks at hearing his confession, of how he, the same man you practically fell head over heels for after your first meeting, could think that he was unworthy of your attention. If you were being honest, you hadn't been hurt by the way he had acted earlier in the day, only confused as to why.

"Hotch--" you stop yourself. You take another step closer, closing the space between the both of you more and more. "Aaron,"

He snaps his head up at your usage of his first name, the way you said it so gently and naturally getting all his attention.

"I've liked you ever since I first met you," you confess. "I'll admit I was too intimidated by you to fully register what I was feeling, but the more I got to know you, the harder I began to fall. And I fell really hard," you let out a laugh, trying to ignore just how much you were putting on the line right now and how self-conscious you felt with his eyes boring into you.

"You've been with the BAU for three years," Aaron's voice is barely above a breathless murmur and he's sure you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't standing so close. "That's how long you've liked me for?"

You nod, lips pursed, "I never said anything because I thought you would never see me that way, let alone reciprocate my feelings. If I'm telling the truth, I wouldn't have said anything if it weren't for you pressing me into telling you that I was dating Reid."

Aaron smirks despite the warmth he feels on his cheeks, shrugging his shoulders and letting out a soft laugh, "Well, then I'm glad I ended up asking. Who knows how many more years we would've gone like this if I hadn't."

You both laugh, subconsciously curling towards each other when you both double over and bring yourselves even closer than before.

You stare up at him with a warm expression before casting your eyes downwards. You lift your hand to linger above his, the pads of your fingers brushing against the hairs on the back of his palm, "So, what happens now?"

Without breaking eye contact, he takes your hand in his while the other reaches for your waist once more. You let out a small yelp when he pulls you even closer, your bodies now touching and radiating the warmth you both thought you’d never be able to feel from one another.

The next few seconds are filled with bliss when he lowers his head to press his lips against yours. You’re immediately weak, letting go off his hand to place both on his shoulders as to support yourself.

The other now free hand of his comes to rest on your other hip, fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts ever so possessively. A whimper escapes from your mouth and Aaron takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, doing so with so much fervor and passion that it leaves you feeling dizzy even with your eyes closed.

Aaron is relentless even after you pull away to catch your breath, the act of kissing you now something he’s inevitably hooked on. He presses kisses all over your face, from your cheek to your chin to your jaw, then all the way down to your neck.

“You know,” you cough out, flushed from the attention, “I told you how long I’ve liked you, but you didn’t tell me how long you’ve liked me.”

Aaron smiles into your skin, immediately recalling when he first realized his own feelings for you. He lifts his head to press a sweet kiss to your lips, eliciting a hum from you.

“I can tell you all the details over either a nice dinner tomorrow evening after we land,” he says, another kiss to your lips. He turns your bodies around so that his back was to bed, the mattress dipping under his weight when he sits. “Or you can spend the night here and we can stay up all night talking about it.”

His voice is sultry, and the way in which he grabs at your hips to get you to straddle him makes you flush.

“Are you already trying to seduce me?” you ask, mock offense in your tone though you happily take your guided seat on his lap, both knees on each side of his thighs.

Aaron hums this time, brushing your hair back to begin kissing at your neck again, “Can you blame me?”

He already knows your answer, he’s sure. He knows you can’t, because he can’t, either.

[yndrgrl]

for some reason, your enemy, yandere! katsuki bakugo, is oddly possessive over you

lowkey yandere! reader. smut. fem!reader. regular au. enemies (with benefits) to lovers. virgin! reader mentioned. jealous! bakugo. lowkey! angst the highkey! fluff.

warnings: nsfw, mentions of virginity being taken by katsuki, public sex stuff, tit fucking, degrading, free use, oral (fem receiving), rough fucking, choking, masochism??

a/n: should i start doing more drabbles & headcannons or do you guys like the long fics?

---

katsuki loves seeing you angry.

it's such a strict contrast, really. you're usually calm, put together, level-headed with a hint of dark humor & sarcasm. you seemed like you had unweavering patience when it came to the daily annoyances from stubbing your toe to helping a student that couldn't seem to grasp a subject, no matter how many times you tried explaining it.

the only person who could get under your skin was a certain, arrogant classmate who always had something to say. he would never say anything absurdly rude, but it would always get on your nerves. "the back of your shirt isn't tucked in, dumbass." "your lip gloss color is too bright on you, fuckin' idiot." "there's an easier way to do that, stupid."

maybe it was the tone he gave you-- condescending. maybe it was the way he was so predictable, always following up with a coy smirk. you didn't know why he was the only one to irk you, but you do know one thing, you hate him.

& he hates you.

yet for some reason, you two know more about each other than anyone else. you know how much katsuki hates sweet things, so you'll dump half a bottle of that cheap teriyaki sauce that tastes like artificial sweetener into his spicy ramen when he's cooking. he knows how you have your backpack organized, so he'll purposefully put things into the wrong place just to annoy you.

you two were obvious rivals in almost all aspects of life, & yet the two of you are attached by the hip. he was always in your dorm room while you did your homework, blowing on your ear or messing with stuff he knows he's not supposed to. you would find yourself in the gym with him late at night, sitting on the floor as you watched him to an exercise you didn't wanna do.

your friends would always ask about him, which was another way he would get on your nerves. even when he's not there, his name would get thrown around. "so, (y/n), when are you & bakugo gonna make it official," snickered jiro.

"yeah! we wanna know," momo chimed in. you've had this conversation with anyone who knew you & bakugo, & your answer was always the same.

"NEVER!"

the funny thing about "never" is that it means you, at no time in the future or in the past or on any occasion, would ever, ever even glance at bakugo with any sort of care or attraction. "never" means the only look you'd throw his way is a glare.

yet, there you were, under him, contradicting "never." this arrangement -secret rendezvous & lustful activities- happened a few weeks ago, you remember it so vividly. it was a late night, & you & bakugo were dead tired after training (aka fighting non-stop) with each other for hours followed by studying at his dorm. the two of you weren't done until late, so you told him that you were going to stay in his dorm whether he liked it or not.

another snarky argument ensued, which mellowed into vulnerable confessions. you told him you've never had a partner because you've never had any intimate experience before, so how would you even cope? that night, you lost your virginity to your enemy, & it was so addictive.

after that, your guys' dynamic didn't change outwardly. if people paid attentions a bit more, they would've seen the two of you holding pinkies during lunch. he would sit a tad bit closer in class. it's a good thing you've been wearing your hair down because your neck was covered in hickies.

today, katsuki was even more annoying than he has been the last year. something was coursing through his veins. he was so much more daring, so much more of a bully today.

it started when you woke up in his bed, naked after a night of taboo touches. even last night, he was different, something on his mind. groggily, katsuki shot you a lazy smirk. his fingertips ghosted over your exposed skin while you laid on his bare chest. goosebumps followed in his fingers' wake. you laid there for a moment longer then said, "we should probably get ready for school."

"hm.."

"what?"

"i just need something taken care of, (y/n)," said katsuki, voice deep. you felt him against your thigh that was draped across his hips.

"k-katsuki, we-we can't," you blushed. your protests went unanswered as he started to mark your neck. his love bites trailed around your neck, down to your collarbone.

"shhh, just relax," katsuki whispered as he groped your tits. as quickly as he removed his hand, it was replaced by his mouth, suckling on your nipple; his fingers pinched the other. his free hand dove between your legs.

"katsuki!" you gasped, pussy still sore from last night. you couldn't help but grind your clit against his palm while his fingers were knuckle-deep and pressing against your g-spot. "go-gonna cum," you moaned out, & it was like a switch flipped inside of katsuki.

he pulled his fingers out of your dripping cunt. climbing atop of you, katsuki sneered"didn't i tell you quiet?" he shoved his fingers coated in your juices down your throat, making you gargle in surprise.

his heavy cock laid between your hickey-covered tits. "press your tits together," he commanded. you must've given him a confused look because he instructed sternly, "use your hand & fuckin' press your tits around my cock, nerd." oh god, how he made you so mad. you couldn't even tell him off.

that morning, he finished all over your face & tits. he smacked your cheek a couple of times with his semi-hard cock before getting off of your body to get a towel for you.

the two of you sat in aizawa's class, next to each other, like you didn't have to wash katsuki's cum out of your hair just before school started. what was embarrassing was that your friends (bless their sweet, sweet souls) complimented you, which wasn't out of the norm. however, they were gushing about how your skin was absolutely glowing.

katsuki, knowingly, shot you look of pride. he is truly the worst.

the next period came & went, & then you were stuck in another class with katsuki. your teacher decided that they were sick & tired of the regular routine, so they led the class to the library. they essentially said, "run wild, don't leave the library, & leave me to my own devices."

it's not like you were complaining; you've been wanted to pick up a new book to read so you browsed the aisles. were you also avoiding katsuki? a bit. today, especially, he was just too much. his unfortunately well-placed cockiness & his eagerness to get his hands all over you was a deadly combination.

as your eyes darted from the selection of books, the one you wanted just so happened to be on the top shelf. it wasn't unreachable to you, but it was an inconvenience. you creased your shoes as you went on the tips of your toes, trying to get a grasp of the book when a larger, familiar hand gripped yours. standing behind was katsuki, towering over you. out of instinct, you retracted your hand away, & he grabbed the book

you were about to say thank you when he placed it on top of the shelf. you could barely even see it, so there way no way you were going to be able to reach it. "i want to read that," you deadpanned, trying to turn around but katsuki's hands were on your shoulders. "h-hey, you're not doing what..." your voice trailed off.

his hands glided down your shoulders, caressing the curve of your figure, then stopped at the hem of your skirt. "are you crazy?!" you whisper-shouted at the blonde, to which he just scoffed.

he unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, & all you heard was rustling of fabric. he flipped your skirt up, covering his erect cock with it. sandwiched between your thick ass, he started to grind against you. "then stop me," katsuki whispered into your ear. he brushed your hair away from your neck & blew on your sensitive bruises forming on your skin. "just don't be too loud~ you don't wanna get in trouble, do you?" he snickered, pushing your panties to the side. katsuki shoved his girthy cock inside of your hole, stretching your already-aching walls.

you slapped your hands over your mouth to muffle your gasp. you could hear students, your classmates, talk all around the library. sure, you were tucked away on the second floor in a quiet corner, but you were still in public.

he started rutting his hips against you, shallow & uneven. he was testing the waters to see how far you'd let him go. with the fear of getting caught & utter adrenaline pumping through you, you tried to push away katsuki. his response was to pin your hands against the book shelf & pound your dripping pussy. soft smacks were only heard by you two, no one else close enough to hear the huffs & the mewls.

they say keep your friends close, & your enemies closer, & maybe you've taken that to heart. now, katsuki, your sworn enemy, knows your body inside & out. he knows how much you love being manhandled, which is why he made you arch your back as held your arms above your head while he thrusted in & out of you.

your pussy twitches, as it does every time when you're about to lose yourself in the pleasure, & katsuki knows this too. you were chasing your high, your eyes lulled to the back of your head when, suddenly, he pulled out. "k-katsuki!" you groaned in annoyance & shock. he was a selfish person with the stamina of a sex god. you'd usually cum several times all over his cock before he'd ejaculate inside you.

he flashed you his signature smirk as he wiped his dick with your navy blue skirt. he zipped his pants back up & redid his belt. with a shrug, he sauntered away, & you were left with a knot in your stomach, ratty hair, & frustration bubbling inside of you.

you were not going to entertain whatever sick fantasy he was trying to fulfill. you avoided him the best you could, however the two of you shared pretty much every class together. purposefully, you'd be the last one to class so you wouldn't have to sit beside katsuki. it always landed you in the front of the class, & you could feel his gaze burning holes in the back of your head, but it didn't matter. distance is what he deserved.

you were so mad at him that you didn't even want to look his way, you didn't want to be in his general vicinity.

the moment you saw him notice you, you would walk away from him. your plan was working to your favor until the evening. katsuki & you had very similar day-to-day routines. because you were always stealing portions of katsuki's food in the evening, your stomach began to grumble like clockwork. however, the moment you go downstairs, you would have to confront katsuki.

between the hunger you felt & your distain for the blonde, your hunger felt insatiable-- unfortunately for you. it was hard to ignore because you, while trying to avoid katsuki, skipped your regular meals. all you have in your room is an empty mini fridge, a water dispenser, & a couple of snacks that won't do anything but upset your stomach.

"ughhh," you let out a groan, getting out of the comfort of your bed. you slipped on a pair of pj pants over your spandex shorts & house slippers, prepared to tell katsuki off while stuffing your face with the food he's cooked.

knock. knock.

you jumped, almost letting out a shocked gasp. "oi! open up, stupid!" it was katsuki on the other side of your dorm door. you held your breath... maybe he hasn't heard you yet? "i know you're in there!"

"goddamn it, katsuki! go away," you shouted back as you walked towards your door. you looked through your peephole, only to see an agitated katsuki holding onto something.

"would you stop being a fuckin' child & open the door?"

"no, you're the childish one! get out of here, & go suck midoriya's dick!" just as katsuki can effortlessly get under your skin, you can do the same with him.

he punched your door, which sent vibrations around the door & frame. "you're such a fuckin' kid, (y/n)! i know this is 'cuz i didn't let you cum all over my co-"

abrasive, you threw open your door & dragged the loud-mouth into your room. your hand threw itself over his mouth as you seethed, "would you shut your damn mouth, people can hear you." under your hand, he smirked & kissed the palm of your hand. you tried to pull away with an embarrassed blush, but he gripped your wrist to keep you in place.

he kept leaving butterfly kissed on your palm, maintaining eye contact with you. each gentle kiss shot tinges of pleasure through your nerves. "wh-what are you doing?"

"you're so sensitive, y'know," he responded, kissing up your arm while pulling your closer to him. since when was katsuki this affectionate? your eyes glossed over slightly as he trailed kissed up your arm. sighs of content escaped your plush lips when he started to kiss your collarbone. something brushed against your leg, & that's when you noticed him holding something.

"wh-what is that?" you asked, dragging your nails down his arm that was gripping it. goosebumps appeared all over his arm, & he tensed up.

he cleared his throat. he pulled away from you, &, if you didn't know any better, it seemed as though he were nervous. "it's the reason i'm here in the first place," he grumbled, avoiding eye contact. it was a box wrapped in an all-might cloth.

"oh, you mean you're not just here to torment me & use me," you shot back. you were still so, so angry with him.

he looked at you, eyes wide. "what the hell are you goin' on about, woman?"

you were about to tell him off, all your pent-up frustration about to spill out of your throat when you were cut off by a distinct grumble-- your stomach. katsuki scoffed, but it was clear what you said played over & over in his mind. "it doesn't matter right now, just eat." he shoved the cloth into your hand & sat on your bed; you followed in suit.

unwrapping it by pulling the knot, it came undone to reveal two dark wood bento boxes, two pairs of chopsticks, & two spoons. he took the utensils off the top to place them on the fabric & opened the top bento to give to you. decorated beautifully (& almost intimately) was a homemade bento with onigiri shaped in the traditional triangle along with your favorite protein with pieces of bell peppers, carrots, & other veggies cut into the shapes of hearts & stars. your rice ball had a cute cat face made out of seaweed. you bursted out in laughter, "wh-what is all this!?"

"shut up, asshole!" face flushed, katsuki yelled. "i fuckin' care about you or whatever." your laughter died down, taking in the words he was saying. "when you didn't eat lunch or come train with me or go get a pastry at that one god-awful cafe, i knew i pushed you too far."

"you think?" you retorted as your tapped the tips of your chopsticks against the bento. he took his & took off the lid to reveal his: scraps. it was enough to make him full, but it wasn't as pretty as yours. it was all just thrown in there without a care. the middle of his carrots & bell peppers had heart-shaped holes cut out of them. while your sauce was in a small container to avoid your food getting soggy, his was tossed in there, coating everything. his onigiri was just a ball with the classic seaweed strip.

"learn to shut up for once, will ya?! god, i made you food, so could you just sit there & look pretty & just listen?"

"fine, say what you wanna say," you huffed, taking a bite out of your food.

"listen, (y/n)," he started, "i know i'm harsh & not the best, & i get why you hate me, but i'm not trying to use you. yeah, i like that you & i do the nastiest shit together, but i also like just... walking around with you. you might think that it's just 'cuz i wanna get in your pants, but i couldn't care less about that shit. i don't know, i'm just, i'm sorry, alright?" this rant was so uncharacteristically not him but him at the same time. he was vulgar, yet vulnerable. he apologized.

"katsuki..."

"& i was just messin' with you 'cuz damn raccoon eyes told me that dunceface was gonna ask you out. i know that we're just doing stuff so you'll feel more confident in, i don't know, fucking, but i don't want you with anyone else. i messed up, i know. i just... d'know, i just want you to yearn for me as much as i need you."

"katsuki," you called out. "c-can i admit something to you?"

"what is it?"

"i really like you." a suddenly quiet ensued. katsuki, the guy who always had a snappy comeback, was speechless, & it made your throat tighten.

"(y/n), seriously, don't mess with me-"

"i'm not!" you yelled, but you weren't upset. "the reason i was so mad at you was because i felt used... i don't like feeling like that, especially since i really, really like you. all the stuff we do together let's me be delusional & pretend we're dating. & it's hard to stop because you're just so... doting in your own way. but then today, you didn't wanna make me, you know, so i just thought-"

"we'll that's what you get for thinking," katsuki teased, placing his & your finished bento on your desk. he sat close beside you; if you were to turn your head, your lips would've been centimeters away from his. it's not like you guys haven't kissed before, but this time was different. it felt like the first time all over again.

"(y/n), look at me," he whispered into your ear. you shifted in your spot, but you did as you were told. facing him, you backed your head up, only for it to be stopped by your headboard. "i'm so sorry, angel. let me make it up to you."

"katsuki, i-it's okay-" you were cut off.

he hushed you, eyes half-lidded & clouded with lust. "you'd think by now you'd learn your lesson about shuttin' up, huh?" he said as his hands slid under your shirt, up your torso. you raised your arms, allowing him to take off your shirt. under his breath, he whispered, "fuck."

katsuki climbed in between your legs, looming over your figure. he kissed the valley between your breasts while his arm snaked around your body. with one hand, he unclasped your bra. you threw it onto your dorm floor, & he wasted no time to latch onto your tit. he swirled your perky nipple around his tongue. you squirmed under him, your pants, shorts, & panties joined your bra

to take a moment to breathe, katsuki pulled back, & you, as eager & as horny as ever, ripped off his shirt. "woah, someone's impatient."

"you piss me off, let me have this," you snarled back, a possessive tone in your voice. katsuki made a note to himself: edge you as much as humanly possible. you pulled him close to you. sure, you crushed your face against his chest when you did so, but you didn't care. you started to nip at his exposed skin. hickeys crawled up his chest, decorating his collarbone & creeping onto his neck.

"sh-shit, angel," he breathed out. against your thigh, you felt his clothed dick twitch with every bite. he pushed you away from his bruised skin with a gentleness, his tongue trailing down his body. & just like that, he was the dominate one again.

katsuki, spreading your legs wide for him, placed your legs on his shoulders. your thighs could crush his skull if you so pleased. "you're dripping, (y/n)~" he snickered, followed by a long, slow lick against your slit. you gasped out in shock, back arching out of instinct.

"m-more," you whined. he chuckled that sinister chuckle he always does when he's about to say the most annoying shit ever.

"ask nicely."

"katsuki," you said in a stern voice. you didn't want him at that moment, no, no, no. you needed him. you needed him to make you cum; you needed his stupidly talented tongue on your pussy. you needed to be destroyed by his dumb, heavy cock. "i'm not playing around."

"i'm not either, (y/n). just swallow your damn pride & ask like a good girl, hm?" he replied as he spread your pussy lips apart with his thumbs, blowing cool air on your clit. you two bantered the way you usually do, as though he weren't in between your legs, mouth ghosting against your weeping hole.

you knew he wasn't going to let up, so you swallowed thickly. "k-katsuki?"

"yes?"

"pl-please eat me out," you begged. you looked at him with faux tears welling in your bright, doe eyes.

"how could i say no when you look at me like that, sweet girl," exasperated katsuki, acting like he was doing you a favor when, in reality, he was a selfish man. he loved eating you out, he loved watching you wraith in pleasure, hand clasped over your mouth as cute, little moans escaped your quivering lips. if anything, it got him rock hard & throbbing.

it started out with kisses against your clit, like it always does. soon, the kisses turned into licks & sucks. your hands found themselves entangled in his unruly, platinum hair, & your hips bucked forward. you rubbed your clit against him. one hand started to tease your entrance while he flicked your clit with his tongue. your juices with his drool made it easy to slide his middle & ring finger inside of you.

as if you were holding in a breath, you exhaled in relief. his fingers pumped in & out of you while his tongue circled your bud. the all-to-familiar knot began to form in your stomach. "g-gunna cum!" you whisper-shouted, back still arched & head thrown back. for a second, your vision turned white as you creamed all over katsuki's face. he lapped your juices up like it was an elixir given to him by the gods. overstimulated, you thought he would pull away after cleaning you, but he relented.

that's what you get for thinking.

"hey, wh-what are you doing?" you gasped out as you propped yourself up with your elbows. this time, instead of attacking your clit, his tongue jetted in & out of your hole. he didn't say anything, only looking up at you with his ruby red eyes. you found yourself bucking your hips onto his face once more, finding pleasure in the friction. every time you would look away, he would slow down or stop completely. you came, then came, then came again.

after the fourth time, he finally stopped. you took a deep breath, your frustrations wiped away. "f-fine, you win. y-you made it u-up to me," you stuttered out as you tried to steady your heart rate. your eyes were closed, & your chest heaved with every breath you took.

"why do you look so comfortable? we're not done yet, angel," katsuki growled, & that's when you felt it; his tip running up & down your folds. your eyes snapped open, & your jaw dropped. he eased inside of your pussy, which sucked him in eagerly. you felt full, stretched, yet he was only half way in. he snapped his hips forward, covering your mouth because, every time he does that, you'll let out a droned-out moan.

the fact that he's made you lose your unwavering, cool composure made him feral. you're dripping wet all because of him. you were sucking him in so good. his eyes were trained on your gorgeous face, your eyes were half-lidded, tearing up. whimpers muffled by his large hand made his cock twitch inside you. the way your body looked as you took him in full was the reason he can't let anyone else have you. honestly & truly, you made him crazy.

he showed this in this thrusts. they were harsh, tip slamming against your cervix. as he pumped in & out of your pussy, he uncovered your mouth, his hand travelled down to your neck. with a firm grip, he cut off your airway. your tongue hung out of your mouth as you panted like a bitch in heat. fast & hard, your body jerked forward with each one of his rough thrusts.

choked out mewls escaped your lips, & your eyes rolled to the back of your head. you were about to pass out when he released your throat. you gasped. with every exhale, you couldn't stop yourself from moaning out his name. "k-katsuki~ k-kat-m~"

"such a good fuck," growled katsuki. he draped your legs over his shoulders. the blonde, smirking viciously, loomed over you, leaning forward. your knees were against your bare chest, you feet passed your head. you were folded in half, powerless. all you could do is squirm, cry out his name, & let him pound the shit out of your pretty pussy.

he held himself over you with one hand. his other cupped your face. he squished your cheeks together so your lips would pucker. "you're such a fuckin' pretty asshole," he chuckled. "you know how many guys wanna piece of you? none of 'em get t' have you though, that's all my privilege," katsuki gloated, his voice sounded muffled yet so clear. you tried responding but all that came out were lewd moans

he let go of your face as his thrusts started to become erratic. his grunts were animalistic, the sound of skin slapping skin echoed off the thin walls. possessively, he growled sweet nothings into your ear, & you had to bite back your screams of pleasure. at this point, you felt so good that you couldn't even begin to care about who might find out. hell, even if someone told aizawa that the two of you were breaking rules, you would tell him to scold you the next day.

"c-cum," you rasped, your legs sore from being folded. you squirmed under him to find some comfort for your legs. you tried pushing him away, yet you still chased your high. was the pain turning you on? there's no way.

"tch, cum, you fuckin' brat," commanded katsuki, & it was clear he wouldn't let you change positions until you creamed all over his thick cock.

"c-cumming!" your legs shook as your walls spasmed around katsuki. you heard him curse under his breath, his dick twitched inside you.

"gon-gonna fill you up, 'k?" he told you, all you could do is weakly nod. for a moment, he didn't care about your pleasure. he had one mission, & that was to use you so he could cum. he was treating you like a toy. your legs fell near his hips, but you couldn't find the strength to wrap your legs around him. gripping your hips, he moved you up & down his dick like you were a fleshlight.

"you're such a naughty girl, (y/n)~ everyone's gon' know that y'er all mine," he told your through gritted teeth. he didn't wait for a response, groaning loudly. "take it, fuckin' take it, baby," he said as he slammed his cock inside of you before his thrusts became needy, shallow. hot ropes of his cum painted the walls of your pussy. with the entirety of his cock inside you, his cum seeped out of you, dripping onto your duvet.

you felt your heartbeat in your core, & you struggled to catch your breath. he captured your lips in a passionate kiss, it was so unlike him. since when has anyone described katsuki bakugo as gentle? yet here he was, tending to you, cleaning you up & giving you soft kisses on your plush lips. "you okay, babe?" he questioned, just a hint of snarky pride behind his tone.

"y-yeah," you stuttered out, stretching your your legs. they quivered with every movement, & your face was flushed with embarrassment. he scooped you up with one arm while the other swiped the duvet off your bed. he tossed it in your dirty laundry hamper. your arms were around his neck as you cuddled into his bare chest when you told him, "you were just rough is all."

he laid the two of you down, covering you with your fluffy, (what you dubbed) "emergency" blanket. he started to scratch your head, & your eyes felt droopy. "i'm sorry, sweet girl. was i too rough?"

"no," you sighed with a smile. "i can handle it."

"yeah, i'm sure you can."

"i can! i just proved it to you!" you retorted, your eyes closing.

"whatever."

[youraverageaemondsimp]

“Seven Above.” // Highly Religious Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader

DD:DNE ;; Reader discretion is heavily advised.

WARNINGS: noncon & dubcon, forced breeding, forced beliefs, breeding kink, religious themes and psychopathic aemond, dark!aemond, misogynistic views, pressure to fit into the gender norms, forced pregnancy, multiple orgasms, brainwashing(?), mindfucking, + not proofread. PLEASE BE EXTREMELY MINDFUL OF THE CONTENT WARNINGS

Block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to refrain from seeing my dark works.

WC: 2.1k

A/N: fic contains dark content, do not proceed to read if you are easily triggered or find the topics mentioned above triggering. // dividers by @cafekitsune

Aemond was a man of the faith of the seven

He was extremely religious, his mother’s belief in the faith has also made him follow it, though he studied about dragons and old gods of Valyria, he didn't particularly follow them. His need for impressing his own mother, followed by his grandfather made him follow this faith more.

The only problem? He was way too religious and strict, but also hypocritical, he had shamed Aegon for being married to Helaena, but also desired her for himself, he would taunt his nephews for being bastards, yet also had one for himself with a common whore he could not remember the name of. He doesn't acknowledge them as sins however, saying that they are forgiven by the gods as he visits the sept daily.

Alicent did not know what to say, for when she would speak to him about what he's doing and points out his wrongdoings, he simply ignores her and tells her that her job as a woman isn't to judge, but rather understand and nurture, to which she couldn't argue against. So she remained silent.

Everything was going the same as usual, until Aemond was summoned by his grandfather, who had selected a proposal for him.

“The woman is Y/N of the L/N house, a woman loved by many, it will benefit us if we formed an alliance with her family, what do you think of it Aemond?” His grandfather questioned, to which Aemond nodded, saying it isn't too much of a bad match considering they had more to gain than lose, and so the proposal was quickly made.

Aemond only saw you on the day of the wedding, when your house arrived in the throne room, where Aegon sat in the middle, handling the matters. You had not shied away from looking in his eye, to which he was caught off guard by, his mind quickly realising how you are the feisty type.

The ceremony went well, Aemond refused the bedding ceremony and took you to your martial chambers before bedding you. He was gentle of course, he didn't do anything that was too painful.

One thing about Aemond is that, you should never get on his bad side, he is cruel just as he is lenient, you heard of what he had done to his own nephew, to riverrun, to the strong house, leaving absolutely no one alive from that bloodline, no woman or bastard was spared.

The first month flew by quickly, Aemond had gotten to know you better, and he quickly realised that you both don't share the same ideologies on most of the stuff, you even dared to speak back to him, to which he excused you of. Arguments with him on small things have started to happen, his opinion contradicting yours, and his refusal to understand your point of view made you extremely unaccepted, yet you still tried to convey your feelings to him, hoping somewhere deep down in your heart that he'd understand. After all, you had grown to love him a little. He was far better than any husband, most of them didn't even let their wife speak to them.

That was until the topic of children had come when you were dining together.

“Wife, Have you gotten your moon's blood yet?” He asked and you nodded, “Yes, husband, it passed a few days ago and it is regular.” you tell him confused as to why he is asking this, “Are you perhaps barren?” He asks, which makes you feel shocked, and quite offended, “No! Why would you ask such a thing like that?” You ask, eyes slightly wide with shock. “Then why aren't you with child yet?” He questions as if you had any control over anything that happens after intercouse.

“It is only the second month, and besides….” You bite your lip and he raises an eyebrow, “What is it?” You sigh heavily, “I do not know how to ask of you this.” You tell him honestly, “What is it that you need wife? Dresses? Jewellery, do not be shy to ask, I am your husband after all. It is my duty to provide.” He rests his hand on yours, squeezing it in a reassuring way.

“I–” you take a deep breath, “I do not want children, at least, not yet.” you spit out.

It's almost as if everything had frozen in place, the air becomes silent with only the crackling sounds of the fireplace being heard. The tension becomes more imminent in the air as the Aemond continues to remain silent and not do anything, except directly stare at you.

His grip on your hand suddenly tightens, making you wince and you look at him pleadingly, “Have you gone mad?” He stands up, forcing you to stand up as well and you grip his arm tightly, not wanting to fall before balancing yourself, “Please- I am not yet ready, let me prepare myself mentally first.” You beg him and his other hand grabs you by your throat and pulls you closer to him, his grip on your throat begins to tighten, causing you to lose bloodflow to your head.

“I have done nothing except do my duty, be the ideal husband, provide for you, all while allowing you to express yourself yet it seems I was too lenient on you.” He growls, “Because here you are, asking me, to allow you to not have children. It is your sole duty as a wife and a woman, and you could not even provide such a thing?” He let goes of your throat, making you engulf a huge amount of air as you tried to calm down.

“Every woman is the image of the mother, she should have a natural nurturing personality towards anyone, especially to their own children, yet here you are refusing to be a mother to your own child or rather having one of yours, it is disgusting.” He says meanly and you glare at him, “I never said that I never wanted to be a mother, I asked you to give me time to which you are– hmmgh!” You are dragged by Aemond to the bed and thrown on it, you quickly lean on your elbows, fear gnawing in your stomach as you look at Aemond who seemed so furious at you, your heartbeat accelerated as he just stared down at you, like a predator staring at its prey.

“Your sin is forgiven, wife, I remembered how some women think they do not want children until they do, and then they become the best mothers and perfect wives known to man, maybe you are of that same category.” He keeps on talking, and you stare at him, confused and in fear, what in the seven hell was he talking about?

“It is no surprise if that is the case, luckily, there is a cure for that, and that is to get you pregnant, and I shall do just that, simultaneously fulfilling the duties as your husband.” He leans down and caresses your cheek. Your eyes widen when you catch his expression in the illuminating moonlight. He was smiling, yet the smile did not reach his eyes, Your stomach began to churn as goosebumps arose on your skin, he doesn't seem like the man you married anymore.

Before you could make an escape, Aemond pounces you and pushes you down onto the bed, you thrash in his hold trying to push him off but he holds your hands together and pins them up before grabbing your cheeks harshly and spitting on your face, “Behave, I'm treating you.” You began to tremble knowing he had gone completely mad.

“Let go of me! Aemond!” You scream and he pushes his hand over your mouth, “Shut the fuck up.” He tells you before grabbing your dress and tearing it off your body, the bodice coming along with it, causing your tits to spill out. He gropes and squeezes them, “I wonder how nice they'd look when they swell with milk hm?” He coos, before descending his lips onto your nipple, you use your now free hands to push him away but he doesn't budge, you try to pull him by his hair but he bites harshly onto your nipple causing you to let go of his hair in pain, he pulls away and looks at you angrily.

“Behave.” He says sternly and you flinch, never having heard Aemond use that specific tone before, it was extremely scary. “Aemond, please.” You plead him but he doesn't care, simply ripping off the remains and pushing you up the bed and prying your legs open. “You'd look so beautiful, all round with my child in your belly, I pray to the mother to bless us with a child.” He undos his breeches and your eyes widen in horror, knowing what is about to come.

You watched in silence as he lined himself against your entrance, prodding the tip at the very beginning of your hole and began to push inside, you shut your eyes tightly and clenched the sheets below you, a pained cry leaving your mouth at the stretch of your cunt by his cock, unprepared.

He soon fully sheathed himself inside you, and wastes no time before beginning to thrust, whines and gasps leave your mouth at his actions, you grip onto his shoulders as he jerks you up and down, you felt ashamed when it started to begin to feel good, your body in dilemma where you push him or pull him closer.

However that sense of choice is taken away from you when he grabs your hands and pins them above you, all while pistoning his hips into yours, “Seven above, I pray that the mother blesses my dear wife with a child in her womb so she may be cured of her sinfulness, I pray that the maiden guides her into realising how she should truly perform her duty as a woman, and may the crone remove useless thoughts and guide her to the correct path.” He prays closing his eyes and your eyes widen in pure shock, shocked by the fact on how he can pray in a situation like this?

His thrusts feel so sinful, and you're convinced you've lost your mind because of the fact that you are getting pleasure from this, his lips find yours in a passionate kiss as he ends the prayer, kissing your forehead afterwards and pulls back, “You'll make a good mother, I'm sure of it.” He coos in your ear before pressing a kiss to it as well.

You soon began to recognize the familiar feeling of a rope tightening in your abdomen, the telltale sign that your peak was nearing, Aemond's hand groped your tits, pinching your nipples and rubbing his thumb over them, providing you with additional pleasure, and before you know it, you are toppling over the edge as your peak hits you, arching your back and moaning out his name loudly.

He too finishes inside you, filling your hole with his seed, before pulling out, his face hovers over your stomach and you watch as he presses a kiss on the location of where your womb would be located, “May the mother bless us.” He mutters.

You thought that would be the end, yet you were wrong, you gasp when you feel his finger scooping up his seed which leaked out and push it back into you, essentially beginning to finger you, he takes you by surprise again when you feel his warm tongue on your clit, causing your hands to fly out and grip his hair as you breathed heavily.

His tongue and finger worked simultaneously, introducing you to a sensation of a new type of overstimulation, making you peak once again.

Time blurred together and yet Aemond did not stop, you've lost count of how many times he made you peak and how many times he finished inside you, but at the end of it, you surely felt full and fucked out, your mind filled with nothing but the thought of having his children, which he kept muttering over and over again, causing you to pick up on it.

“You'll be a great mother.” He pulls you into his arms as scoot closer, burying your face in his chest, “Yes, Husband, I'll give you as many children you want.” You mutter before finally drifting off to sleep.

Aemond smirks, knowing that he has now achieved his goal, now he can slowly start shifting you into the type of wife he wanted in the first place.

It was no surprise when you found out that you were pregnant with a child, only for you to give birth to triplets.

“A blessing from the mother.” Alicent beamed, yet that sentence only made you flinch.

— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

[carlsdarling]

Heated arguments

Carl and Y/N have an argument, then some make-up sex, and it gets really emotional... More of a plot, and also sex and fluff. Everyone is 18 or over. (This was requested, but the request somehow vanished from my inbox, don't know.)

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex

You were just fed up. Carl's overprotective attitude, the way he constantly tried to control you and forbid you to do things, and you glared at him angrily when he scolded you for going on a supply run with Maggie and Glenn for once and then leaving them to search a pharmacy and getting surrounded by walkers. You'd wanted to search the pharmacy for a few more personal items, including condoms.

"You could have died," Carl told you, his face pale with anger, his jaw tense. "You almost died!"

"No, I wouldn't have died," you contradicted defiantly and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

"Are you kidding me?" Carl's voice pitched. "Maggie told me that there were at least a dozen walkers in the pharmacy when she and Glenn came in, and that you were stuck on top of a cabinet! If Maggie and Glenn hadn't vanquished the walkers, they would have tipped the cabinet over and eaten you alive."

"No, they wouldn't have," you replied against your better judgment. "The walkers would have given up."

Carl stared at you, stunned, his eye narrowed. "Are you really that stupid, Y/N, or are you just faking it?" he insulted you, ruffling his hair. "You know, I may not want to admit that my girlfriend has a birdbrain, but obviously she does," he stated brutally. "No one with a shred of intelligence would put themselves in a predicament like that! And then you get upset that I'm supposedly controlling you? Yes, maybe I do, but the reason is that you're stupid and reckless and can't take care of yourself!" Angrily, he clenched his right fist and punched a locker.

You flinched at his words and his outburst of anger, and you began to seethe inside. "Oh yeah, but of course Carl Grimes The Almighty is perfect! Who puts themselves in danger all the time, on purpose? You do! How many times have I told you not to go into dark stores alone to loot unimportant stuff?"

Only recently you had scolded Carl for going into an abandoned department store just to get an old CD player for you. Beaming like a child, he had presented the item to you and had been as proud as all the times before when he had taken extra dangerous actions just to be able to give you presents - perfume, jewelry, make-up, books, anything he knew you would like. No matter how many times you told him to stop, he wouldn't listen to you.

"At least I can look after myself," Carl replied angrily. "You can't. I forbid you to go on any tours without me!"

You put your hands up indignantly. "You don't have any right to forbid whatsoever, Carl! Fuck you!" you shouted at him before turning around abruptly and running off in the direction of your house.

"Fine!" Carl called after you. "Then do what you want!" Enraged, he marched off in the opposite direction, his hands in his pockets. It was true that he regularly did dangerous things himself - but only to please you and impress you. No, actually that was only half the truth. Carl's missing eye made him feel inferior to the other new lads in Alexandria, and he lived in constant fear that you might leave him for one of them. Carl couldn't bear the thought of losing you, so he desperately tried to impress and spoil you to prove to you that he was the best option for you. Even if it meant risking his life.

You slammed the door behind you in anger and even started cleaning the house in your frustration. Who did Carl think he was?

Not even an hour passed before there was a knock at the door. Standing on the threshold - Carl. You looked at him in silence. "Can I come in?" he asked shyly. Wordlessly, you let him in. "I... can we get along again?" He looked at you pleadingly and his hands were shaking, he was obviously nervous.

"Carl, you called me a birdbrain, I..."

"I didn't mean it that way," he murmured, hugging you and burying his face against your shoulder. "Let me make it up to you?"

Your body responded to Carl as it always did, and you moaned softly as he began to kiss your neck. You were like wax in his hands; you always had been, and you didn't protest as he directed you to the couch in the living room, swept the cushions down and pressed you onto the padding. "Carl, this is inappropriate, we're still in an argument," you whispered, gently trying to push him away.

"I was thinking of some make-up sex," Carl whispered back, and you succumbed to the temptation - even if it didn't solve your problems. Carl unbuttoned your blouse, unhooked your bra and soon had your jeans and panties pulled down too, leaving you naked in front of him. You couldn't wait to see him naked too and tugged impatiently at his belt. Carl stood up to hastily remove his clothes, and before he was about to lie back down next to you, you grabbed his slim hips, grasping his proudly erected dick and giving the tip some kitten licks, then slowly slid his veiny shaft into your mouth and sucked on it.

Carl's knees got wobbly, he inhaled sharply and began to whimper, then he put his hand on your head, tousled your hair and controlled the movements of your mouth. "Oh yes, please," he whispered breathless with arousal. You cupped his balls with one hand and rubbed them while you continued to slowly suck Carl off. Some precum leaked out of his cock and you swallowed it before suddenly withdrawing from him, eliciting a sound of disappointment from Carl. His dick glistened with your saliva as he lay on top of you without further foreplay, gently forcing your legs apart and thrusting into you in one smooth motion. You were more than ready for him and moaned out, your hot, soaking wet walls clenching around his cock. Carl's heart was beating right next to yours as he fucked you with skilled movements. You buried your face in his neck curve, kissing and nibbling his pale skin, while Carl's long hair tickled your face and you inhaled his scent, which intoxicated you as always - the typical, unique Carl scent that made your hormones go crazy.

You lifted your hips. Carl's cock slid in and out with a steady rhythm, and he breathed heavily, again and again he let out those small, adorable moans that turned you on even more. You stroked Carl's back, completely overwhelmed by your feelings for him, it was just you and Carl and your lovemaking, and your whimpering grew louder.

"You cumming?" Carl looked at you, little drops of sweat standing between his eyebrows.

"Carl, oh yes, Carl," you moaned, half senseless with lust. Carl was delighted as always that he was the reason you felt so good, and he would make sure you cum before he did. He withdrew from you almost completely, then slowly penetrated you again, again and again, until you were on the verge of madness. "Oh my God, Carl, you're so good." The orgasm came over you so hard it felt like your head was going to explode , and Carl noticed a new gush of slippery hot moisture welcoming his cock. He quickened his pace, his moans became louder and louder, his thrusts harder and more irregular, then he tensed up, all his muscles tightened, and he had his release right inside your pussy.

Carl stayed on top of you for a while, both of you sticky with sweat and body fluids, and you pressed against him. You two didn't speak until Carl finally pulled his dick out and lay down right beside you. "Are we... good with each other again?" he asked shyly.

You frowned. "The fact remains that you called me stupid, Carl," you said icily.

Carl winced with guilt. "I didn't really mean it. I'm sorry," he whispered glumly, and when you didn't respond, he reached for his jeans, which were lying on the floor next to the sofa, and fished out a necklace with a pendant in the shape of a glittering jaguar. He attempted to hand you the necklace. "Here, I found this when I was scavenging, and I thought..." He seemed anxious.

Anger welled up in you, and you slapped Carl's hand away; the necklace whirled through the air and landed on the ground. "Tell me, don't you get it?" you snapped at him. "I don't want you to keep getting unimportant things for me! You put yourself in unnecessary danger every time! For bullshit like a fucking necklace! And don't tell me you found the necklace by accident!"

Carl blushed and lowered his gaze. "You're right, the jewelry store was full of walkers. It... it's just... well, it's just that..."

You looked at him inquiringly. "It's - what, Carl?" you asked in a softer tone.

Carl struggled with himself, then it all burst out of him. "It's just that there are these new guys in the community, and I can see them staring at you - and at me, with my ruined face. I... what else can I do but go the extra mile to make sure you stay with me? To make you like me? I don't want to lose you, Y/N." Carl's lower lip quivered slightly.

Carl's words touched you and made you sad. He was so insecure about your affection for him that he felt he had to shower you with gifts and attention - even if it meant putting his life on the line. It took you a while before you could answer. Carl didn't look at you, he stared at the ceiling, a single tear trickling from his left eye. It flowed down the side of his cheek and dripped onto the sofa cushion, leaving a dark stain.

"Carl," you said, shocked. "Do you really think I feel so little for you? That I'd leave you for another guy if you didn't make an extra effort to please me all the time? No matter if you risk your life in the process?" You couldn't believe it.

Carl was crying now, and it was the first time you'd ever seen him cry, and it distressed you even more. "I... before those boys came, I was the only one here your age, and... and I was scared that you were only with me, because I am the only option." He sounded bitter. "But now that Ron and Benjamin and Spencer and the other lads are here, well... you have a choice, and why on earth would you pick me?" He sounded completely despondent.

You were completely gobsmacked, and you hugged Carl tightly. "You fucking idiot, you," you said tenderly, brushing his dark hair out of his face and kissing him; his tears tasted salty. "I didn't get together with you because you were the only option, but because I fell in love with you, eye or no eye. And I would never exchange you for another guy. And I don't want you to put yourself at risk to impress me ever again, because I couldn't bear it if something happened to you. Carl, I love you more than anything. I love you for who you are"

Carl looked at you, his eye puffy and red. "Really?" he whispered, smiling at you. It took a load off his mind. You felt him finally let go of his worries and his body relaxed.

You nodded. "Please don't ever do that again," you urged him, pointing to the necklace. "Promise me."

"I promise," he said quietly and stood up for a moment to pick up the necklace from the floor. "But I can still give it to you, can't I?" He grinned mischievously. "It's already here."

You rolled your eyes. "All right," you admitted defeat. Carl put the necklace on you and cuddled up to you again. "I love you, Y/N," he whispered happily, wrapping his arms around you.

--

Tags: @knochentrocken0808 @tessasweet @xxcarlswifexx @taylormarieee

[faetima]

𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐬. .

. . you’re cursed with hanahaki and shyness, while scaramouche is fated to forever hide his feelings behind a mask of indifference.

// tws ; blood ! ; gn reader ; modern & high school au, hanahaki au 

a/n: i love safety scissors by tiffi

there were many things you didn’t know about scaramouche. his family life, his favorite type of flowers, what his favorite kind of dessert was.

what his personal feelings about you were.

but, one thing you did know about him was that he liked cherry cola.

much, much more than the regular kind.

that was too bad though, since you hated cherry cola.

but you couldn’t fault him, your tastes just didn’t match up.

—

there were many things you didn’t know about scaramouche. his favorite sport, if his love language was physical touch like yours, if he didn’t like shy people.

if he was romantically interested in someone.

but, one thing you did know about him was that he wasn’t rightfully yours.

and that he would never be.

—

your life was slipping away like delicate grains of sands falling through your hands.

you gagged, pale pink and pristine white candytufts slipping out of your mouth and flopping onto the floor, the ungraceful motion contradicting to how elegant the flowers actually looked.

the flowers were dotted with dull, red spots of blood, standing out on the otherwise light colored blossoms.

you clenched your hands into tight fists, suddenly feeling how cold and clammy they had gotten.

you hunched down, heaving and coughing up more of the damned flowers. they were clumped together and were glistening from being coated in mucus and blood.

the cabbage-like scent of the candytufts combined with the metallic, iron scent of blood was starting to make you dizzy, your stomach turning. you gagged on nothing, queasy from the miasma.

maybe you had no chance with scaramouche.

—

you sat in class, shoulders slumped forward and lips turning downwards just the slightest bit. you rubbed one of your eyes, tired.

you let out a shaky sigh, not noticing your right leg bouncing up and down unconsciously.

“can you stop that?” a sharp voice cut through the silent haze that had been set over the classroom. you glanced up, finding indigo eyes narrowed in annoyance. scaramouche’s hands were clenched into fists and his jaw was clenched. he scowled at you, pretty face contorting into one filled with exasperation.

”sorry,” you mumbled, immediately dropping your gaze down to the desk, swallowing hard. nervousness crept up your spine, and you took in a shaky breath.

”whatever,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. his ears had the lightest tint of pink to them, of which you didn’t notice, too caught up in your own embarrassment.

—

you had bought new clothes because you thought you were going to see him that day.

you had cut your hair in your bedroom with safety scissors.

it was so embarrassing. especially because that was the only way he would even notice you, taking the fact that you were too scared to talk to him because of being so goddamn shy.

—

there was some distant memory you had of scaramouche and you back in seventh grade.

you had both been working on a project, and somehow you had wound up sharing your earbuds with him.

his nose had scrunched up in what had seemed to be disgust.

”you listen to this fucking stuff?” he asked you, staring at you with a scrutinizing gaze, a hint of curiosity in it which you hadn’t noticed.

you had stayed silent, not exactly sure what to say.

it wasn’t his fault that your music tastes hadn’t quite aligned.

— 

you had texted your friends.

they had said not to do it.

but you, being stupid, didn’t want to listen to them.

so you had cut your hair on impulse, all because you wanted to look nice for scaramouche.

now your hair looked so, so damn stupid.

and the worst part? 

you had cut it with safety scissors.

you should’ve listened to your friends.

—

coughs wracked your feeble body, draining all the energy it had left with the motions.

candytufts fell out of your mouth, piling up on the ground.

sharp pains in your lungs came in intervals, making you wish death would just come and take you already.

but no, it just had to be cruel. it was taunting you, making you feel like you were going to die, make you wish that you were going to die, only to never actually take you.

instead it put you through this suffering.

you felt like you were coughing your lungs out, wanting to rip your throat out from the pain.

you sobbed, wishing to just die, wishing for the world to just end your pain and suffering.

but, alas, death would never come for you.

all because scaramouche hid his feelings for you under a mask of indifference, hidden from anyone’s knowledge.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere Best Friend

Tw: childhood abuse, divorced parents, bullying, violence, angstt, parental neglect

ageless blogs n minors DNI blease tq <3

my masterlist

hi guys after a long hiatus i come back , coping mechanism time

i wrote this like from 11pm to 3am in a frenzy so dont exepct much , ridden wih typos, contradiction,grandma misrake and idk if the reader here is fully gender neutral or i accidentally sprinkled some afab in there

thersras like a part 2 to this so eyah stayetuned

enjoys

He was there from the very beginning, that quiet boy from elementary that you shared your sandwich with when no one bats an eye at him.

He was quiet, you were considered uninteresting. Both of you are somewhat outcasts and the other children held no interest towards you and him. Perfect match for each other, instant best buddies, bonded by mutual loneliness.

Well, maybe, not instant. He was weary and so were you, it took a while before you gained his trust. He made sure you didn't stuff nasty, gritty bugs in that sandwich like how all the other kids would do. You made sure he didn't accept it just to throw it in your face.

Once it was established that you didn't add an extra ingredient and he isn't going to play bread frisbee, the door to a long and strong friendship was established. He doesn't have much to say, but he's never short on kind gestures when it comes to you. Are your bags heavy? Let him carry them, he's a strong boy; he drinks his milk and gets his healthy amount of sleep. You forgot to do your 5th grade long division homework? He is going to swap his completed homework sheets with your empty ones, he's okay with being scolded. He has some stupidly thick skin from what goes on at home.

Your yoyo is really cool, you said. You own that yoyo now. No, really, it's okay. He doesn't really need it and it made you happy when you had it in your small hands. Yes, it took him months of begging his busy, overworked, broken, divorced, struggling, knee-deep in debt dad and a couple of missed lunches to get that shiny yoyo, but he loves seeing your surprised expression and dazzling smile.

Oops, you spilled your drink all over another classmate's book, or you broke a window, or you dented a teacher's car. It doesn't matter how many people witness it, it doesn't matter what you say, he's responsible and will gracefully accept all repercussions and punishments even if that means receiving a couple more ugly bruises on his body that night.

Who doesn't like candy? He sure loves them. That's why, he uses up all his already scarce pocket money to buy you some. You protest, he's confused, don't you like candy? Yes, he knows he won't be eating a lot these few weeks because he can't afford it, but don't you like candy?

Are your hands dirty from eating all that chocolate? Here, use his white shirt as a napkin. No, really, it's okay! He's your friend, he would do anything for you... are your shoes muddy too?

Happy birthday! It's a very special day for you and him too, that's why, he saved up enough to buy you a tasty cake and a pair of beautiful promise rings made up of gold! Isn't that cool? Don't worry about how he got the money and please ignore the giant, bloodied cotton gauze on his head, please ignore his black eye, please ignore the strange burn marks on his limbs. His extra injuries are due to... him falling off a bike. You know that's not true. That's not how he got them. He is going to be really sad if you don't accept his gifts, better just shut up, smile, say thank you, kiss the boo-boos away, stuff your face with delicious cake and wear the damn ring.

Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, good night, goodbye, I love you and all the other greetings are something you hear everyday from him. Hm, the teachers are complaining that he isn't that polite to them or to the other children, all they get are silent blank stares at best, a scowl and a spitting hiss at worst.

Halloween's here, you're dressed up as a generic bedsheet ghost because its the cheapest to do. While he's dressed up as a horror movie survivor. Wow, the cuts, tattered clothes, blood, abuse marks and limping walks really sold the costume. But you and him both know very well that these aren't done using makeup or prosthetics.

You and him went on trick and treating quietly.

Aww, you both are so adorable. Candies for days. Your pumpkin buckets filled up quick, that's because your friend keeps piling his candy into yours.

Aren't chocolate bars his favorite? Yes, of course. They're so expensive, delicious and very unafforable. But why does he keep giving them to you and leaving none for himself? Because they're everyone's favorite, including yours, duh!

Such a young gentleman, he is the type to lay his coat over a puddle of water for you to cross over it.

Middle school is where children usually begin to explore the concept of romance. Maybe you saw him as a brother, maybe you weren't attracted to him at the time, maybe you wanted to put his devotion for you to the test. Whatever the reason was, you consistently friendzone him whenever he tried to court you.

But it's okay, he is willing to wait. He is willing to have his eyes sting with tears, heart broken over and over again. He is willing to grit his teeth and clench his fists while forcing a smile, watching you experiment with the idea of having a boyfriend or girlfriend with other people. He is willing to be the third wheel to every single one of your dates with other kids. Your friend is always going to be there for you no matter what, he is your unyielding safety net, he is your second choice, he is always the best alternative or default when the puppy love didn't work out. And, he found solace in that. Others come and go, he is the fucking constant.

Then, he is going to try his luck. He will do it over and over again. You're going to accept it one day.

Your friend loves flowers. He speaks the language and gives you bouquets of red roses and pink Camellias. You usually chuck it in a vase filled with water and let it wilt, they're going to be replaced anyways.

He found that the food in the cafeteria can be awful, with goopy expired milk, to half frozen pizzas, they're bound to cause some poor kid to puke their guts out later in the day. He is making sure you're not that kid, so, he dedicated what precious free time he had to hone his cooking skills. He is a busy boy, working god knows how many jobs a 12 year old can work in a day, just to fund this essential skill of his.

Middle schoolers can be so cruel, your friend may not look the most feminine, but it's the actions he does out of love that makes the children pick on him for being different. Ew! He likes flowers and cooking! Gross! Evil! Unnatural! Independent! So not Alpha!

It starts off rocky at first, bullies will sabotage him whenever they can, kick him while he's down. Ruin his stocks, call him names and vandalize his belongings, but he gets the last laugh when he makes fucking bank by selling warm, hearty, tasty meals. They're a big hit among the staff who have no time to cook for themselves and have half a brain to know eating from the cafeteria is a bad idea.

Of course, his beloved sweetheart gets to eat for free. And has the privilege to go for seconds, thirds, fourths, however much your stomach desires. Yours are always personalized to fit your palate and presented in the most appetizing way.

Soon, other children began buying his meals too. As it turns out, they fucking slap.

He began expanding, selling resold candies at a ridiculously marked up prices, but the way he marketed and packaged them, gave an illusion that he's selling a premium product. They sold out like hotcakes, while you ate wrapper after wrapper without needing to pay a single cent.

Hey, he really has a knack for business! He is raking in profits, bringing you out to eat, spoiling you with riches a self made, young entrepreneur would have, excelling in Business studies, Accounting, Mathematics and Psychology.

He began testing the limits of his trading empire, he began dabbling in service based business such as delivery, doing homework for a price, obtaining blackmail material... that is how he knew your homeroom teacher had an extramarital affair with the principal. Hmm... the principal seems to kiss his ass a lot and you get a bunch of privileges. You wonder why that happened.

His reputation grew as his shrewdness grew. Your friend was too intimidating to be bullied, as one of his business ventures includes hiring others to do some dirty work for him. You don't know the full extent of his giant conglomerate enterprise, and you don't want to know.

You remember seeing a female teacher handing him a wad of cash, her hair tousled, her clothes were messy, her lipstick smeared and weird stains were all over her body. For sure, she didn't just find it laying around in the boys' bathroom... and, there were a lot more boys requesting a bathroom break that day.

Your friend bought you the latest smartphone model on the same day too. You were disturbed with what you saw and the implications, so you asked if she even got anything out of working under him and... if she even agreed to work as... whatever she was. He just smiled, cup your cheek and told you to never, ever, ever, cheat in a relationship. Especially not with him.

He then followed up with his probably hundredth love confession for you. Which you promptly friendzone him again. Your friend would simply sigh and change the subject. Do you like your phone? He asked as you began unboxing it, the loud chatter from the mall's food court drowned the voice of doubt in your head.

His wallet is growing wider, he is growing taller, posture disciplined, voice deeper and he lost the majority of his baby fat. Giving him a sharper, meaner, leaner look, his physique is nothing to scoff at either. All those pastry batter mixing, soup stirring, skull bashing hustling and bustling sculpted those perfect abs and ass. His hair now has a healthy sheen to it since he can afford better things, his skin had no flaw and the protruding ribs on his chest is now covered up with muscular pecs.

Being pretty does have its' privileges, he observed a sale boost in his balance sheets.

Time waits for no man. Before you know it, the both of you are in Graduation togas. Smiling for the camera, you gave your friend bunny ears.

Your friend started worthless in everyone's eyes, something to poke fun at, a punching bag, forgettable and nothing serious. He transformed into this feared, revered, worshipped yet hated entity. Your friend no doubt made as many enemies as allies, that's just how it is in the business industry. Cold blooded, ruthless and absolutely bizarre to you.

He has obviously put some of the staff and students in horrible situations for his benefit and sometimes for your entertainment. They seem to genuinely see him as some sort of god, someone to cleanse them from all their sins. They... loved him. What a manipulative motherfucker.

As for you... your situation is pretty strange too. You are clearly the only person he cared about, the only person he truly ever loved and cherish. No one seem to conjure up the idea to use you against him. You seem... invisible, for the most part. And you are so grateful for that.

At least, that's what your friend wants you to think. You have no idea how many strings he has to pull to keep you safe and oblivious and innocent. You have no idea how much he had to spend to keep you pure and untainted. But, yeah. Keep believing its' due to some sort of cosmic karma system where you didn't incur any karmic debt.

It was the first time seeing his parents at this graduation ceremony, he never liked having you over at his house. They looked like how you imagined them; miserable, horrible, unhealthy and volatile. They really should not be seated next to each other, his parents looked like they're about to strangle each other and your friend at a moments' notice.

His father was smoking, plumes of grey wafted up in the open air. Ashes crumbled and dropped down to his lap. His necktie was undone and his office shirt was disheveled, much like his belt and scuffed shoes. It was a wonder how he's not escorted out of the venue yet.

His mother... she aged horribly. She looks irritated yet distant, she doesn't want to be here. Or does she not want to be with her ex husband? Maybe if they were separated by an opaque wall, the mood would be much more lifted. His mom wasn't mentioned a lot during conversations, you knew close to nothing except the fact that she gets him on the weekends.

Perhaps his mother is simply neglectful and not active, he did mention that its easier to prepare his sellable inventory during the weekends.

You're nervous to meet them, they're really unfriendly and they don't seem to care that much about their son's accomplishments.

Your friend gently wrapped his arm around your shoulders and rubbed his hand up and down your arm. As if to soothe you from the sight of his less than ideal parents.

To you surprise, he just shot them an indifferent look before leading you away. Their relationships must be unsalvageable.

The event comes to an end, your friend mingled with everyone who, the majority, had clenched fists behind their back. He then went to socialize with your parents, he knew them well and they also knew them well. Their opinions on him are lovely.

He continued his endeavors, trying out many different ventures. It was extremely dizzying with the sheer amount of businesses he had. Your friend moved out of his parents' house(s) and struggled with finding a place for a while. So he stayed over at your parents' house with you for the time being. You get to wake up to the smell of deliciousness every morning, the plants would be watered, furniture dusted, home sparkling clean. Though, he was rarely around.

Eventually, he found his footing and lived in his own place. It's a little cramped and it could qualify as a weapon of psychological warfare, but that was all he could afford at the time.

He fought tooth and nail to obtain a massive bank loan for his main business plan, he was stressing over opening his first restaurant. The logistics of it all, the raw materials, the hired help, the equipment, the advertising-- the pressure of it all was enough to break the average person, but not him. Oh, he thrived on this. He was calculating, he knew the costs, the risks and he saved up enough for a rainy day.

It took him many months, many trips to the bank, many meetings, many phone calls, emails, uncountable hours working 3 jobs a day, an eternity in the kitchen, in the sweltering heat of lit stoves heating up pots and pans, many times where he would lose his voice from aggressive marketing, persuasion, severe sleep deprivation, starvation, networking, tears, blood and sweat. There were more times than you can count with your hands that he was almost driven to insanity if it wasn't for you.

The thought of you alone was more than enough to ground him and keep his eyes on the prize, he is going to make so much money that, you and he wouldn't ever have to work ever again. You both would live happily ever after as a married couple, comfortable and never needing to worry if he could afford the next meal or keep the lights on.

That's nice. You wouldn't need to know what he went through, he doesn't want you to go through a life of hardship like how he did. You wouldn't ever need to work a day in your life.

Your friend rubbed his aching, calloused hands, ridden with cuts and scars. The golden promise ring sits around his finger, it wasn't his to begin with, he stole them from his parents when you both were kids. He found solitude knowing that your hands will never be like his, your back will not ache from overexertion, your muscles will be relaxed and your mind will be quiet, at peace. But only if he kept going. Only if he does not give up.

Everything he does, he does it for you. He thought to himself, as he rubbed his bloodshot eyes staring at the screen of his phone. It's showing that 5 more customers placed an order for his famous party platter through a popular social media app. Your friend sighed as he tucks his phone away before opening the door to his mini fridge containing all the ingredients needed for the orders. It's 11pm, he has to be at one of his workplaces at 6am tomorrow.

The day finally came where he would open the doors to his very own restaurant. There was a crowd waiting in front of the shiny, polished glass doors.

His team of service crews, cooks and baristas anxiously watched on as your friend glanced at his old, marred and cracked wristwatch. His hand was tightly gripping on the door handles as he watched the minute hand twitched. His eyes and mouth were dry, probably due to the dehydration he endured for a while now.

As soon as his accessory shows that it's time for the grand opening, he opened the floodgates.

Customers come rushing in like a torrent of water in a river. Some new, some old, some here to do their jobs as a journalist, some are his other associates, some are his estranged relatives, some are his rivals. It was an assortment of people, a mixed bag.

The Chefs are cooking up a storm in the kitchen, the wait staff are serving customers left and right, bringing them to their tables. Baristas are whipping up as much drinks as they can, as perfectly as they can. Not a single foam bubble out of place, or else all those training would have gone to waste.

It was loud, busy and fiery. Chaos yet it was controlled, Disorder but it was ordered.

Your friend was leading the flow, the rhythm. The pulse of the restaurant depended on him. He made sure everything is in line, satisfaction at an all time high and disappointment non existent. He barked commands, firm and domineering, he controls the scene with an iron hand.

Waitstaff were trained to strike up friendly conversations with customers whose orders will take a longer time, to give the illusion of speed. Cheery faces, toothy smiles, giggles and laughter filled the establishment's air, alluring aroma of cooked goods filled everyone's nostrils, making many stomachs growl. It was colourful, it was tumultuously harmonic, expression of glee would made its way to the patrons' face when their dishes gets served. All the meals go beyond their expectations, in terms of smell, texture, taste and plating.

Your friend made sure that the cooling system was working perfectly, as he works in a kitchen, the easiest way to get snappy and grumpy is to be hungry in an oven. Calming music that's faintly playing in the background also helps, but its' mostly for him and the other staff. Everyone else is too occupied with their own matters to notice.

Today should be a day of accomplishment, happiness and gratitude. Why shouldn't it be? Revenue is projected to be high, profits are guaranteed and expected to go through the roof. Logically, this restaurant will be sustainable for many decades to come.

But your friend... he is getting antsy, upset, distressed, unhappy. His staff is noticing that he isn't all there, he's getting crabbier by the second. They were baffled, everything is going well, he is handling it wonderfully and the pressure is actually slightly dying down.

Where are you? He had scanned the dining area many many times now. No sign of you... but your parents were there. That somewhat calmed him down a bit, if they're there, you should be there too... right? You're probably at the salad counter or the bathroom. He anxiously massaged his hands, where are you?

He trusts his staff to handle everything on their own. He decided to take big strides towards your parents. Your friend greeted them with a warm smile, an animated Hello. Your parents mirrored him and returned the affability.

He was desperate to see you again... oh god, how long has it been since he last saw you? Hear your voice? It must have been months. As this realization dawned on him, he felt the coldest chill run down his spine.

Did he... unintentionally neglected you in the process of building the perfect life? No, that can't be. He sent you texts everyday.

He clenched his jaw and pushed his gnawing thought away momentarily. He made small talk with your parents. It was fine until he abruptly cut them off and got to the point; Where are you?

Your parents glanced at each other and a look of discomfort washed over them. Your friend was using the table to support his weight as he leaned forward. His knuckles turning white from gripping the edge of the furniture too tightly.

They're studying abroad. They said. Your friend froze in place and widened his eyes.

What? Why didn't you tell him? Why didn't he know? Why--

He hastily whipped his phone out and frantically tapped on his cracked screen.

He trembled as he realized you never received his texts, let alone read it.

Your parents explained to him that you changed phone numbers two years ago when you left to continue your studies abroad.

Two years...? Its been two fucking years?!

Your friend began hyperventilating, his face was flushed and he was gagging and gasping. No, no, no this can't be. He is nothing like his parents! You meant everything to him, he had never intend to ignore you, he had never meant to neglect you! Your friend is losing grip on himself, he is shaking like a leaf. No one paid any attention to him, as he is simply insignificant at the moment.

Please... I-I need to call them, please let me call them! He was choking on his tears that were streaming down his face, dripping onto the pristine floors below.

Your father handed him his phone, your new number already dialed.

They're probably having an exam today. Your father tried to warn your friend, but he didn't hear a word. All he could think was you.

Your friend snatched it out from his hand and made a dash past all the staff, customers, chefs...

Until he reached the back door, upon which, he exited through it.

He sobbed, pressing the device against his ear, listening to it beep indefinitely.

The call eventually dropped because it wasn't picked up. His face was scrunched and his sniffles were bouncing off the walls and green dumpster nearby.

He tried again. The call dropped. He tried again. The call dropped.

He tried again,

Your friend crouched down to the ground and pulled his knees to his chest. His cries unheard by anyone, everyone else is in the restaurant. He is the only one at the back.

The call dropped.

I'm sorry. He mumbled repeatedly to himself.

He tried again.

I'm so sorry. He sobbed much harder this time, he cradled his face in his hand.

The call dropped.

Please forgive me. He squeezed his arm, his fingernails digging into his flesh.

He tried again.

You're always my number one. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have neglected you. He drew blood from piercing his skin with his nails.

The call dropped.

I'm sorry, I was only trying to build a better life for us. He took much shallower breaths.

He tried again

I would give up everything just to hear from you again, it means nothing to me if you're not here... with me. Please, I'm sorry. He was growing despondent, desolate. He was clutching his head, a ball of quivering mess.

The call dropped.

I love you. He whispered as he broke down completely. Angry at himself, angry at the world, angry at everything. Life isn't fair. He has done everything he needed to do and yet he the only reward he ever wanted isn't granted; you. He ruined everything, all of it, all his hard work, all of it was worthless. He felt worthless. The guilt and remorse and anguish of being a neglectful friend and partner was crushing him to death.

He wasn't there at the very end.

[numberonestuckyshipper]

I love the Howling Commandos so much, they’re so underrated if you ask me, especially the awesome dynamic they 100% had. I imagine all of them in very specific ways, some things are based off of fics I’ve read, some of it is just me.

Steve Rogers: Steve is the youngest of them all, he’s also the least experienced one and he hasn’t been part of the group nearly as long as the others considering he came into the picture after Kreischberg. He’s really fun to talk to and he’s as much of a little shit as the others are, being the leader of their group he’s in charge of tacking care of talking to superiors and shit, and he often ignores direct orders to do what he thinks is a better option, he also lets his team get away with things regular soldiers wouldn’t be allowed to do and they love him for it. He often gets yelled at by Bucky after doing stupid shit, the other Howlies often jokingly refer to him as “Dad” when it’s just them.

Bucky Barnes: Bucky has the others’ immense respect from the start, because he’s protective and caring as much as he hates to admit it. He is the only one who has negative amount of problems yelling at Steve after he did some stupid shit, he was the most scarred by Kreischberg but never lets it show. He loves music and always has a song stuck in his head and has fun pissing the others off by butchering the songs when it’s safe to be loud. He trusts Steve more than he probably should and goes with his plans, though he often forces him to modify them and cut down the crap. His protectiveness and strictness when Steve’s being a dumbass gets the others to nickname him “Mom” when they’re in private. He ‘hates’ it.

Dum Dum Dugan: Dum Dum was Bucky’s closest friend after Steve, he has a stupid sense of humor and says way too many dad jokes than is good for his teammates’ mental health. He’s always the first to jump at the opportunity to get his hands on some alcohol (no one complains about that) and he and Jim are the primary clowns of the group. He loves to tease the others, especially “Mom” and “Dad”.

Jim Morita: Jim is the one in charge of their immediate medical problems and small tech involved stuff, like Dugan, he has a shit sense of humor and they often get into battles of who can out dad-joke the other.

Gabe Jones: like Dum Dum, Gabe has known Bucky since before Azzano, and is the one in charge of languages, he speaks French and German more fluently than the others do and in the beginning he was usually in charge of dealing with Jacques’ bullshit.

Monty Falsworth: Monty is the only official member of the Howlies who isn’t broke (he is often teased about it). He could be considered the most sane of the Howlies (though not by far) he is the most experienced of the group to talk about strategy and often helps Steve and helps Bucky knock some reason into the little shit. They like to tease him for living up to every British stereotype and is often asked to ‘translate’ what Peggy says. He has a sister named Jaqueline who is a spy for the SOE.

Jacques Dernier: Jacques was a member of the French resistance, he’s from Marseille and is fully fluent in English but refuses to speak it. He understands everything the others tell him but speaks to them in French and lets them deal with it, after over a year of dealing with him all of the Howlies are more or less fluent in French. They call him a fucking pyromaniac because of his love of explosives and his talent with them. He also has a shit sense of humor that rivals with Dum Dum and Jim and is probably the most batshit crazy member of the team (though the others are pretty close behind him).

Howard Stark is considered an honorary member of the Howlies idc about any contradiction: rule n°1 when it comes to Howard Stark; don’t leave him alone with Jacques Dernier. They will set something on fire or worse. He and Monty are often laughed at for having money and they tease back by talking about rich people problems in front of the others. He is called a lot of names by the Howlies such as things like “Gadget”, “Engineer”, “Civilian”, “Civy” and things among those lines making fun of him not technically being a part of the military. He is involved in a lot of the Howlies’ inside jokes including the “Mom” and “Dad” thing.

[imthepunchlord]

Honestly? At this point Miraculous seems like a pick and choose kind of fandom??? Like when the storyline and author of something become too much of a mess for the fans to care much for canon anymore so they just choose what the want to write fanfics about. It happens in stuff like DC where they can't have all the different characterizations of the characters together without contradiction. Death of the author situation I think???

It was already happening with fan artists so very intrigued by the PV. And then as new characters and powers were introduced people started omitting some characters n episodes.

Now, with the absolute nothing having done for the character arcs for most of the characters (Adrian, Chole, even Alya) people are just tired.

Understandably so. We have almost a decade of bad writing, inconsistency on characters, clashing set up and characters, upsetting/huge choices that don't have any real consequences to them or not the right response, and honestly at the core, nothing changing all that much. S6 is going to have LB and Chat still not know each other's identities, and are still going to face a villainous Butterfly user.

Only difference is that there's now a total of 17 heroes in Paris, but given that LB and Chat are the center piece, I don't know how much we'll really see them. Oh, and Adrien and Marinette are dating, though I wouldn't be surprised if s6 just had them broken up or immediately broke them up. They did it before. And this pair is supposed to chase each other eternally... maybe they'll stay dating s6 and onwards but idk, it seems like no one likes writing couples together, which is a shame as that can be a whole other can of worms and not always happy, as you're taking that partnership further, you're going to learn more of who your SO is, and there's going to be fights, there's going to be learning communication, there's going to be learning compromise. There's a lot to explore with couples together that's not always sunshine and rainbows, and hardly any show wants to really explore it. Maybe they will s6 but I'm not really anticipating the possibility.

Either way, yeah, ML is that medium where, because of the inconsistency, you can pick and choose what you think fits the character. Given the lack of consistency, it can be up for debate of what's even in character for this character.

Like, I remember when Collector first came out, and Chloe is sobbing about Adrien being pulled from school and I was so surprised by the choice. The Chloe that was presented in s1 would not be sobbing. She was be mad. She would go demand and threaten Gabriel to give Adrien back. Probably one of the few people she genuinely cared for, and this is a girl who knows that she has a lot of political power and can get her way easily. She would not be crying over this, she'd be marching her way to the Agreste manor, ready to give Gabriel a bad day for the audacity of pulling her friend out of school when she waited so long for him to join her in school.

And that's just one of many moments where something can feel out of character, at least for me. Depending on how you view Chloe, that could very much be in character. And that's the nice and frustrating thing with Miraculous, no consistency, anything is up for your interpretation.

Even more so when you have characters that have a clear route of progress to follow.

Like, take Felix, who got cut because he didn't work with what Astruc wanted to do, which yeah, he doesn't. Which he wanted to do a status quo story, which means little to no progressing forward, no major changes to that initial set up. Felix though is a character that needs progress. He starts out selfish, not wanting to be a hero, and his set up arc is learning to care. Learning to truly become a hero, learning to make friends and working with others, coming to genuinely fall for his partner and being genuine with her.

Felix would've been fine with a story progressing forward.

He had a clear path to take.

Chloe, given all the build up to be Queen Bee, had two clear paths to take, be it redemption and rising to becoming a hero, or embracing a role of full villainy.

Alya had a clear path to take, with her eagerness to expose the heroes publicly, she needs to learn the value and security of secrecy, and the reality that her trying to expose them put them at risk; that she needs to reevaluate her priorities and how she should go about things.

There's also the issue of lore, which ML has really bad lore. Which can leave us to be more creative with it, make changes so it makes sense. And this can extend to powers too, as I don't think a majority genuinely like all powers presented, I don't know anyone who really likes time traveling Rabbit or really knows how Rooster works. So it is really nice that people are pretty open to seeing Miraculous power changed or expanded upon.

And of course, there's the lack of consistency in what they set up.

Ladybug and Cat are supposed to be THE most powerful, the big two! But they don't feel like. Butterfly feels like the most OP given it can give any power and can make superior versions of preexisting Miraculous. Peafowl can do the same, and make actual life apparently, that you can fully control and terminate whenever you want. Rabbit can freaking time travel. Rooster it seems can give you any power you want, I know they tried to explain that Rooster can't do what other Miraculous do, but that's a clashing statement as Ladybug and Goat both generate items, and the Paris Special reveals that a Ladybug CAN control what items they gets, and you got Butterfly and Peafowl able to function the same, and in the Paris Special, Butterfly can make a champion that can go to different realities, and Rooster can give the ability to go to different realities, so I guess we'll just go with Rooster can give you any power you want?

Yeah, Miraculous over all is a huge frustrating mess. Even more so that it's still going on despite how sloppy it is.

And for me at least, I create content for it as I can SEE the potential it has for the concept. It's such a brilliant idea for a superhero/magical girl show.

Doing animal themed heroes, with their powers working off the animal symbolism, themes, folklore, and mythology? Yeah, that is great. That can give you SO MUCH to work with and do. Even more so, most animals have the same themes across different cultures, like everyone agrees that foxes are tricky, horses are about heroism and traversal, bees are the peak example of community, ect..

And then there's these little beings that are based on those animals, that have lived through a long history alongside humanity? Easily could've been the most fascinating part of the show, especially if they work off animal archetypes. That gives you a preset personality to build upon, and can shape each kwami's view, moral, and guidance.

Like Pollen as a Bee should have values of having a role to play in the great hive of the world, you might need help finding your purpose, and to believe that humans should communicate, work with others, work hard, be kind but take no bull. Live a life of integrity and responsibility.

Trixx as a Fox though should be a trickster. One that's ultimately for the greater good, but she's going to be chaotic about it. Maybe a little selfish, maybe a little mischievous, and maybe a little risky. She's going to urge a value of cleverness and perception in her humans, but she's also going to let them act for themselves as she wants to see how things play out for curiosity and fun. And in the grand scheme of things, everything will work out as Trixx intends, with her having various predictions on how things will probably go, but my goodness, anyone caught up in her gambling game is going to be in for a wild ride.

And with these two very drastic animal archetypes, it sets up Pollen and Trixx to clash on how they handle things, expanding upon kwamis having unique dynamics, some as friendships while others are rivalries.

Then of course, there's the intrigue of what humans they could get paired with, especially if you go a route of foils that could open the way for growth.

Like Bee was set up as Chloe's ultimate foil, being the opposite of who she was: being mean and petty, lashing out, being lazy, egotistical, selfish, doesn't work with others unless she values them. All of that is the opposite of what bees represent. And all of that is what Chloe needed to grow and improve, but no, we can't make progress, she has to stay who she is, so the Bee is catered to her lashing out.

So yeah, it's a big shame as I freaking love this concept, especially as I like animals, I like reading up on their mythology and symbolism and such. But it's so horrendously done. And that's the biggest shame as I think it could've been one of the great cartoons to recommend. But not how it is now.

[kthecutest]

what kinks do you think jo (&team) has? also, what he'd be into? thank you ~~

Jo's kinks:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶

Genre : NSFW (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ 🥕 A/N ೃ⁀➷ MINORS DNI ( ≖‿ ≖ )I genuinely feel like Jo doesn't match with any of the wild common kinks that are found very often, so I had to dig a little deeper into the kink world to pick out some rare but suitable ones for his type :3

Size Kink

First thing that comes to mind when we’re talking about this giant child, it’s gotta be the SIZE. Like we know how tall this kid is compared to all of us and we know that, the height isn’t the only huge value on his body okay. Mans would definitely be so into just staring at the place where your pussy and his length connect as he slides in and out and would probably drool seeing his ENORMOUS cock being able to fit into your tight little pussy. Seeing that alone would give him extra stamina, this mans will start speeding up his thrusts and will be able to go on for so many rounds to the point that you’d be on the verge of passing out and will be trying to push him off only to no avail.

Bulge Kink

This goes hand in hand with the size kink. We know for a fact that the outline of his cock would be visible through your stomach and he just loves to see it to the point that he’d start putting you in positions where he could hit the spot more often and will get to see the bulge. If y’all were in a position where he can’t really see the full view of your stomach, his long hands will still reach beneath you and press at the bulging outline forming on your skin. Might as well feel it if he can’t see right? Best position if it’s something like missionary of course. It might be considered basic or vanilla but he gets the view of the bulge and also can easily press on it whenever he wants; so it’s a win for him.

Gagging Kink

Goes along with the size kink reallllly well. Like Jo would get off so much on getting to see his huge length fit right in your mouth and sometimes even poking at your cheeks. Would love when you complain that your jaw’s already hurting but doesn’t give a shit – the boy just wanna act mean once in a while you know. Would take the chance of you distracted with your own complaints to grip your hair aggressively before moving your head aggressively up and down his length. Jo can’t help but flash a silent smile when he gets to see your broken expression with tears and drool dripping down your cheeks and mouth.

Food Play

Jo loves food, he REALLLLLY loves food and one thing he loves as much is YOU. And it’s only the best when he gets to combine his two favorites. The most common item he’ll use in this play is probably something sweet like whip cream or fruits. Would apply the cool whip cream on your nipples and all over your pussy. He’d really be so into just digging into his meal, you’d even find him sometimes getting more aggressive unlike his usual gentle self. It just tastes too good, could you blame him? Sometimes would also plate sushi and sashimi all over you like in those luxury restaurants. He’s also a hella artistic person so you’d probably even mistake him as an actual experienced person at this kind of thing at times – which he is absolutely.

Temperature Play

Part 2 of Food play but instead Jo decides to use ice. The idea randomly popped up in his head while going to the freezer to get a cool popsicle. The boy returned to the living room with a bucket of ice and the popsicle itself. You’d have no idea and just follow his words when he tells you to lie down. You’re only alerted when you felt a cold icy touch travelling all over your body until you feel something freezing prodding at your entrance. You’d hear stuff shuffle around behind you before the long, stick-like object with a low chilling temperature push past the entrance and deeper into you, as you feel a contradicting warmth above you – “Babe.. it’s pretty hot today right? I think you might want a cold treat”

Brush Play

Kinda goes hand in hand with his artistic talent. We know how good Jo’s arts are and we also know that he loves to draw. But sometimes he’d just prefer you rather than his normal canvas. Also goes along with the factor – Bondage. Jo would have to tie you down most of the time, probably in a really erotic or artistic way and then starts his brush work. He’d dip his soft brush into the ink and start doodling all over your exposed skin. But for your hole, a clean brush would be used. He’d spend hoursss teasing your clit and folds and you’d whine spontaneously, begging him to stop teasing you. When he’s had enough of edging you enough, he’d thrust the tool into your wet hole and have your restrained figure squirm around from the itch and pleasure.

Aftercare

We do not even need to MENTION how SWEET and GENTLE this boy would be after all the messy horny shit. Would treat you like a ball of glass. Would carry you straight into the bathroom – I guess in a way of flexing his height and his body size comparing to your petite body. Would place you in a nice warm cozy bath and gets in together with you; you two would probably be in there for like an hour, just soaking up the humid heat and sharing body warmth.

Next morning? -  Would try to make some food for you and wrap you in a cozy thick blanket – “Hun, you don’t have to do anything today ok?” Kisses your cheek knowing you still can’t move from all the heated shit that went down the earlier night. Would go downstairs to the kitchen to make you breakfast and will secretly giggle and blush when he recalls the events that occurred. You could easily tell his secretive actions though, by the time he’s returned with the dishes – I guess Jo is just bad at hiding his reddened little ears.

[enhashoutout]

Plot Holes in High and Low We Need to Discuss

@tiredlittlewriter always gassing me up 🤭🫶🏼 @cheshirecatuniverse @mrskenpachizaraki @books-n-guns

Thank you so much everyone tagged for staying up and talking about the movies with me last night😂❤

Trigger warnings before you start reading, this ramble posts contains spoilers for the movies, cuss words, mentions of character d3aths, mention of SA that happens to a character, and other violence and cr!me associated with the H&L franchise. Please don't read if you do not want to see any of these.

Anywaysssas as you can tell by the title of this post and this screenshot, we are talking about plot holes in the High and Low franchise that we need to talk about because they BUG THE SHIT OUT OF ME.

I would like to start by saying that I do love this franchise, it is my everything. It's not like I have anything bad to say about it, I love it as it is, but some of the stuff within the franchise definitely could've been more thought out. It could've been worse! So I am thankful it wasn't bad but there are some things I wish the writing team did a little differently.

Also, I do attribute a lot of the plot holes to 1) the creators not being entirely sure whether or not they would get a green light on more movies, 2) trying to make sure the movies made money (it's a business unfortunately and not just art), and 3) High and Low is a multi-media franchise so some stuff is probably explained in the mangas, TV shows, games, etc. I will contradict myself and discuss this more in detail as we keep going.

These are in no particular order, just what comes to mind first

S.W.O.R.D Era

1)Noboru and Miho's story

I have beef with whoever on the H&L writing team thought that condensing the 2 seasons of Story of S.W.O.R.D into Road to High & Low was a good idea. "It's both seasons condensed into one movie" THAT'S A FUCKIN LIE. So much of what is in the shows is cut out from the movie.

Tell me why I learned here on Tumblr that Noboru actually spent a while in a coma in the hospital after getting body slammed by a Kuryu car? And then Cobra and Yamato had to do the "IF YOU DIE I'M GONNA BE SO MAD AT YOU" speech you always see in Asian dramas to get Noboru to wake up?!

And tell me why I learned from a fanfic on Wattpad that Miho isn't dead?! She literally comes to visit Noboru while he's in the hospital. Road to High & Low frames the situation to make it look like Noboru goes to beat up Miho's SA perpetrators after he finds he d3ad in her apartment. Then when I brought this up a couple weeks ago the Discord besties told me she broke up with him through a letter😭 A LETTER GIRL?! HE WENT THROUGH ALL THAT FOR YOU! IF I WAS YOU I WOULD'VE KEPT HIM. NOBORU. GIVE ME YOUR HAND IN MARRIAGE PLEASE GOOD SIR💍 (I'm completely joking I don't think anyone is entitled to another person's feelings, love, affection, etc. I'm just delusional because I love Noboru and Keita Machida)

Then I learned last night from Discord that Miho needs serious therapy because she was working for Doubt and it was addressed in season 2 of the show. Like HUUUH?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!

I do think the storyline between them as a couple and their stories individually definitely could've been explored and explained more. It was probably explained better in the show than RTH&L but I don't have access to the show so idk... which brings me to my first contradiction!

LDH AND EXILE TRIBE PLEASE MAKE YOUR MEDIA MORE ACCESIBLE GOSH. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SUB IT THAT'S FINE AT LEAST MAKE IT EASIER TO FIND SO THAT WE CAN GET FAN SUBS OR I CAN JUST WATCH THE RAW FOOTAGE AND PRETEND I KNOW WHAT'S HAPPENING. There's so many films like the 2 DTC films, the Mighty Warriors film, the shows, even the manga that a lot of us don't have access to😭 Yes this franchise is multi-media but at least make the media accessible😭

2) Mighty Warriors working with Doubt

In the first and second High & Low movie MW and Doubt work together... AND THAT LITERALLY DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE. Last I checked Mighty Warriors don't fuck with tr@ffickers in general so I don't even know why this happened.

And last I checked, MW rescued Sarah from Doubt so why would they work with Doubt when one of their members was literally a Doubt victim? That just doesn't make sense to me. Like yes the MW tend to just take up whatever whack-ass jobs for money they can get considering they fought with literal children (Oya and Rude Boys. I'm like 99.9% sure the Rude Boys members were all 16-19 and that is the age of children. Smoky might've been 20-22 which is not exactly a child but he's still young compared to the MW who were all mercenaries and in the military before they were musical bandits alluding to the fact they are older) but you would think that people who claim to have a club that is a utopia with music that is supposed to impact people positively and save their lives just like music saved the MW members' lives, they would have more moral and standards than to work with Doubt.... but I digress.

3) The alliance with a foreign mafia

This one I can kind of understand but also can't.

I understand that MW take up whatever job they can to make money. It's said directly multiple times in the movies by a MW member that there is no use doing a job for someone without getting paid so they do a lot of stuff just for the money. I also understand Doubt take whatever job pays them but also benefits their tr@fficking business. Hence why they took this job because not only were they getting paid by Lee who runs the Korean mafia but they could kidnap women in the S.W.O.R.D district which worked in their favor.

What I can't understand though is how this alliance even came to be. Hear me out. MW and Doubt will probably do whatever to get money, but where did the trust come from? Like how did they trust that a foreign mafia of all people would uphold their deal and pay them? Was it because Kohaku was made the front-man/face of the plan? Like did they believe that it would be fine because Kohaku was the one "leading" even though it seemed like Lee was pulling a lot of the strings? DOES KOHAKU EVEN HAVE ENOUGH MONEY TO BE PAYING EVERYONE?! I SWEAR EVERY TIME WE SEE HIM THAT MAN IS JUST LAYING ON A SOFA IN A JUNKYARD! WDYM DOUBT AND MIGHTY WARRIORS BELIEVED THIS MAN WAS THE ONE WHO WAS GONNA GIVE THEM MONEY?!

4) Who the fuck are Bulge? And what happened to Kuryu?

In End of Sky, we learn that Bulge are interested in the fight between Doubt, Prison Gang, and White Rascals and would sponsor Prison Gang. That's why the scene where we see Jesse fighting with another prisoner, after he kicks him down the guards tell Jesse that Bulge wants to see him to. This is why Jesse and Prison Gang are released early. When Jesse goes back to Funk Jungle he's asking if Mighty want to join but Ice says that they are gonna focus on promoting Funk Jungle, but like he's a liar they show up at the fight anyways lol.

A the end of Final Mission, the movie closes off with a dramatic shot of Mighty Warriors and a typed out message stating "Hello, everyone. This is Bulge. The takeover plan has begun." We never get an explanation of who they are, what they do, etc. I did learn from Ryu's Wiki Fandom page however that "It is presumed that he and Bulge orchestrated the fall of Kuryu Group. In the music video of the MIghty Warriors' new song "Warriors Anthem", it is revealed that he took over Kuryu as the leader after the events of Final Mission, and having Mighty Warriors occupy the remaining 8 heads of Kuryu."

So who exactly are Bulge? How are they powerful enough to be able to take down all of the original Kuryu members who have been seen as indestructible the whole franchise? Why did they allow Ryu to be the new leader?

After Final Mission, the next media pieces that were released were the DTC show and DTC movie, and then we moved into The Worst era with High&Low: The Worst Episode 0 along with the two Worst movies that followed.

I had made the assumption that around the start of the Worst era the creators probably wanted to integrate more of Jr.Exile into the franchise because of their 1) popularity and 2) new stories. The popularity of Exile members like Hokuto and Kazuma would probably bring in more viewership which does good on the numbers and money side because as I said above, unfortunately this is also a business not just art. The H&L creators probably also needed new stories to follow because they can't keep adding to S.W.O.R.D

Vis said that they think the Mighty Warriors were probably dropped because we haven't seen anything from them since the third movie, but Taiga also brought up how the new Mighty Warriors music video was also dropped right around the time the most recent movie Worst X was released. This probably means they are trying to figure out the story within S.W.O.R.D behind the scenes and it's just taking a while to do the world building. Tired also brought up a good point that considering most of the actors in H&L are also Exile members, they have to also continue their jobs as artists so tours, making music, schedules, etc. are probably also clashing with filming and working on High and Low.

Hopefully that is the case and we see more because I have too many questions and no answers.

5) Wtf happened to Rude Boys, Nameless City, and Nikaido?

If you read my fics, you know that when I write about Nameless City after Smoky's passing, I write about how the Rude Boys, Lala, and Eri go and visit Smoky's grave all the time. About a month ago the besties in the Discord made it known to me that Smoky's gravesite and like 3/4 of Nameless City was completely blown up. I was like 😧when I read those messages because it wasn't even like a head-canon thing I genuinely thought that only a small section of Nameless City was blown up so we were fine BUT APPARENTLY WE AREN'T FINE. So what does this mean for the Nameless City residents?

Did they get government housing to stay in while they got tested for the disease from the pollution? Did the residents get released back into Nameless City after the whole casino project exposure? If they were released back into Nameless City, are they all just cramming into that little 1/4 of Nameless City that wasn't blown up?

What happened to Rude Boys afterwards? Are they all back in Nameless City? Or did they move to a different area? Where would they go though? Little Asia? Did Eri get adopted afterwards? Are they finding ways to make money like how they mined the crystal to get money to rebuild Nameless City? Do they even want to return to Nameless City considering the pollution from the toxic waste was causing the disease that killed their leader?

Wtf happened to Nikaido/Cain? Is he finally happy now that he purged his past? Was purging his past and killing his brother worth it? If Kuryu was overthrown and taken over by Mighty Warriors, what does that mean for Nikaido? Is he working for them? Was purging his past worth anything if he didn't even gain anything from it because MW took over Kuryu? Again, so many questions and no answers😭

6) Give us a more clear timeline

This isn't a plot hole, just something I wish the creators would do is give us a clearer timeline. We're never given any clear timeline of how much time has past between each movie or even how much time is between the S.W.O.R.D and Worst era. I'm always trying to calculate the timeline or everyone's ages based off of the only two characters we get ages for and Noboru's school timeline.

The only two characters in the whole franchise that we get ages for are Chiharu and Seki. At the start of the series we know that Chiharu is 20 because when he joins Sannoh, in the scene at the bar Cobra offers him a drink but takes it back and says "wait but aren't you underaged?" to which Chiharu replies that he is 20 (which is the legal adult age in Japan) and Tettsu makes fun of him for still being in high school as an adult (in good fun of course not in a mean way).

When we first are introduced to Oya, the narrator tells us that Seki is the oldest part-timer student there at age 25.

Noboru, Yamato, and Cobra were high schoolers while Mugen was still active. This is deduced by the scene where Yamato drops Noboru off in front of the school for the day he takes his exam, then when he opens up his college acceptance letter with them. I'm assuming Yamato and Cobra dropped out to be apart of Mugen and take care of their parents' shops. Then, we see when Noboru starts college but doesn't make it super far into his bachelors degree after getting sent to jail. We don't get to see how long he was in jail for, just that he was released early because Kuryu paid to get him out early.

I always use these ages and Noboru's vague school timeline to try and figure out the character's ages and shit but they are just estimates because we never get clear timelines from the creators. Like why couldn't they at least tell us how much time passed between the end of Final Mission and the start of The Worst?!😭anyways.... onto the next thing

The Worst Era (mainly X)

Like I said in the screenshot, The Worst isn't my favorite movie out of the franchise but I think it was the best executed in terms of plot out of all the movies. The plot was clear, very concise, and relatively had no plot holes. (I haven't seen The Worst Episode 0 so if there is something that is missing plot wise please let me know)

It was fun to see the cross with Housen and the themes and messages we got from not only the plot but also from each character were all really good too. It was a solid movie, no complaints.

The Worst X however... I have questions. It's not to say it wasn't good, I still liked it and obviously it was good considering I watched it with no context and it got me into the whole H&L universe, but I feel like it fell a bit short. There was more the writers could've done for not only plot development but character development.

1)How did that 3 school alliance actually even start?

From the movies, it seems like Kohei Amagai is well known as "the annoying son of the Amagai group". Like EVERYONE knows him and knows he throws around money to get people to work for him. And like yeah, we see when he is able to take control of the school with the beige uniforms because Senomon, Kamasaka, and Ebara are quite literally beating the shit out of them, but how did Senomon get Kamasaka and Ebara to cooperate?

I refuse to believe that Amagai was able to get Kamasaka who fight with weapons like brass knuckles and metal rods and Ebara who are all literal gym bros to join his stupid ass plan with just money. As dumb as I think boys are I don't think Reiji, Ghandi, Shoji, Raijin, or Fujin are actually dumb enough to join an alliance for money. Even if this alliance did win and take over Oya, what would they have done with each other afterwards? Those dudes have so much pride we all know that there is NO WAY they would all continue working under Amagai. Amagai is also stupid as hell if he thought he could be at the top without someone from Kamasaka or Ebara trying to overthrow him if he had taken down Oya like Kohei.... be fuckin for real bitch.

I need more of an explanation to this like someone from the H&L writing room please sit down with me and answer my questions so I can publish it in an interview for all of us we need answers.

2) What the fuck is the story behind Todoroki and the dudes from Ebara?

The whole time Fujin and Raijin are running around screaming about how they're gonna crush Todoroki and I literally sit there like

👁️👄👁️Why? No matter how many times I watch the movies because we never get an explanation! Idk was this in the show? Someone please tell me.

And like the scene after Todoroki beats up Fujin and Raijin, Shoji goes "you're different now" and I'm always like "Different? DIFFERENT HOW?! DON'T BE SHY SHARE WITH THE CLASS PLEASE"

Todoroki responds with something along the lines of "now I have friends to protect" which is so wholesome I love that, but what is the detailed history of him and the guys from Ebara? We never get that explained to us. I remember reading somewhere that Todoroki trained hard to beat his bullies and because he got so strong that's why he always tried to fight for the leader position because he believed he could beat Murayama. I also saw a clip on Youtube where when Murayama is fighting with Todoroki, he sees his old self in Todoroki who is being reckless which probably adds to Todoroki's character development.

Did the guys from Ebara bully Todoroki? Were they old friends who fell apart? Did they just have a bad run in when Todoroki was being a little shit and fought but now hold a grudge because they are teenagers with a lot of pride and anger issues and it's not that deep? Idk🤷‍♀️The thing that bugs me is the fact that their feud was added a solid amount to the plot and why Ebara joined then dropped the alliance so I don't know why we didn't get at least a vague explanation of who these characters are to each other.

3) Questions and what I want to see next movie

This obviously isn't plot holes but just some questions I have and what I want to see in the next installments of the franchise.

Why were these high schoolers doing THE FUCKIN MOST to see who was stronger?! The first time I watched I was so confused because why was this movie serious but also so unserious?! They did not need to be doing all that.

Why didn't Amagai get in any trouble for anything?! Is it because he has money?! Like how did this man commit literal crime and everyone was like okei. He literally kidnapped Tsukasa and tortured him for like half a day and 1 night...

How did Tsukasa not die?! The was literally beat over the head with a metal pipe, kidnapped, tied up, tortured, and then dropped from a balcony. I digress, he probably has plot armor as Sun calls it because how did he not die or at least end up in the hospital for a long time.

I want to see the movies circle back to the S.W.O.R.D plotline so it would be really cool if Amagai's little plan was part of a larger plan to break down the peace in S.W.O.R.D. It wouldn't be the first time the adults used kids to push their agenda. Kuryu originally wanted to use Murayama to tear down the peace in S.W.O.R.D because he used to look up to the man who was the head of Iemura but because he chose not to do it, they went after Noboru.

Maybe MW are thriving as the new heads of Kuryu so someone on the outside is trying to take over and Amagai's family is apart of that. Or maybe his family is trying to gain favor from Mighty and are working for them. Idk but it would be cool if we circle back to S.W.O.R.D and see the new Oya characters have to integrate into the S.W.O.R.D world also.

I also want to see a segment of how Rude Boys and Oya adjust to their new leaders.

I want to see what happened to the rest of S.W.O.R.D after the third movie. We saw Oya in The Worst era but what happened to everyone else? Which I also know these are probably kind of far fetched considering the Exile Tribe member who played Rocky is retired from the entertainment industry now... but a girl can dream I guess.

You made it to the end! Thank you so much for taking time out of your day to read this big rant. This wasn't proof read and is kind of everywhere but thank you for reading it anyways! ❤️

[theteasetwrites]

Merciless Beauty

Chapter 4: Only Your Word

❧ Pairing: Knight Daryl Dixon x Princess Reader ❧ Era: Medieval fantasy AU ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: references to sexuality (ooo spicy), women not having rights I guess?, idk what else ❧ Word Count: 6.5k

❧ Before You Read...

❧ Glossary

❧ In This Chapter: Four months have passed since Sir Daryl first escorted you outside the castle walls, and you've grown quite fond of him, just as he has grown fond of you. However, there's trouble afoot with the mysterious Sir Negan and his Saviors gaining the upper hand against King Ezekiel's forces, and it is revealed that Sir Negan's threats hold more water than you initially thought.

❧ A/N: Ayyy this is a fun chapter. I loved writing in Michonne and Maggie as reader's ladies-in-waiting! And yeah, the princess and the knight are starting to fall for each other. Lots of mutual pining going on. Oh, and a really, really cute scene between them at the end... I also loved her convo with Ezekiel. Oh, and Shiva makes an appearance too! Just lots of fun stuff this chapter.

The lady’s lips curled into a mischievous smirk, while the other lady side-eyed her with a similar expression of impish delight.

“What are you looking so smug for, Margaret?” you asked, letting your needlework settle into your lap. “And you, Michonne? Did you not come from the duke’s bed this morning, hm?”

The dread-locked woman’s smile faded, but Margaret only bursted out into a loud cacophony of laughter. “Oh, you’re both lecherous, lascivious, unchaste women.”

“I am not!” you replied quickly, serious in your tone. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but I’ll have you know that I am as pure as the driven snow. Michonne is the unchaste one, I tell you.”

“There’s no reason I shouldn’t court the duke,” defended Michonne. “We’re of the same social standing. It is you, your highness, who is sleeping with―”

You dropped your embroidery hoop once more, this time with more fervor as you scowled at your lady-in-waiting and pointed accusatory in her direction. “I am sleeping with no one!” you replied. “And you’d better not spread that rumor, Michonne. I’m quite serious.”

Margaret stood from her chair to cross the solar and throw herself dramatically on the upholstered chaise lounge upon which you sat. With a flourish, she grabbed your hoop and tossed it carelessly upon the timber floor. 

“Excuse you, madam!” you laughed.

“Tell us about Sir Daryl,” she replied, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. She nudged your shoulder with increasingly impatient shoves as you remained silent, hindering a giggle.

“Yes, tell us about how gallant he is,” laughed Michonne.

“Is he quite… muscular?” prodded Margaret.

Informing your ladies-in-waiting about the several excursions with the knight you’d made in the last four months was quickly becoming regretful. They’d been begging you for over a week to spill the details, each time insisting upon something more happening. But, alas, there wasn’t much to tell. Sir Daryl was your friend, yes, but nothing more. He cared for you, and, in many ways, you cared for him. He wasn’t like any knight you’d ever read about, he was… unconventional. He obeyed his lord, but he abided by his own code of conduct first and foremost. That code of conduct was not purely based in chivalry, as most knights seemed to be. 

That all being said, he was still so valiant, heroic, noble, even, in his own way. He was both the perfect picture of a knight, and the exact opposite. It almost frustrated you how much of a contradiction he was, and it led you to think of him much more than you would’ve had he been completely straightforward and easily understood, but he wasn’t. Even after five or six different trips to the outside, you still couldn’t quite get a handle on him. It thrilled you more than you were willing to outwardly admit, but inside you, you did feel a strange tickle at the pit of your stomach whenever you heard his voice call your name, or his hand touched you to instruct you with his knife, after he insisted that you learn to defend yourself against the Dead.

In your thoughts, you’d become too lost to recall Margaret’s question, until it boomeranged back into the forefront of your mind―is he quite muscular? 

A man’s figure had never really intrigued you before. What you knew of most men in court was that they were most often clad in loose-fitting tunics that failed to reveal any kind of silhouette. Daryl dressed not too dissimilarly, but the minimal armor he wore was tight-fitting enough to outline the brawny frame underneath. There were times he’d had to strip himself of his outer layers, namely his cloak and his surcote, until he was just in his linen shirt and chausses. Despite every convention that told you to pay no mind to the man’s undergarments, you found it nearly impossible not to allow yourself one or two curious moments to look upon the knight’s build. 

Of course he was quite muscular, he had to be. Though during your outings he did not wear a full suit of armor, he still carried about his person a heavy baldric and a greatsword, as well as an arbalest and a myriad of other weapons you could not bear to count. But he seemed soft, too, not having flesh that stretched thin over his lean muscles. No, he was still quite bulky, and warm. Very warm. So warm you but had to stand beside him to feel it. 

It occurred to you then how much time you’d spent thinking about the knight’s body, and how close you’d been to seeing it bare.

“I do not know, Margaret,” you lied. “How would I know such a thing?”

The lady narrowed her olive-colored eyes with knitted brows that further served to question you. Disbelief had characterized the ladies’ attitudes towards your denial, though it was true that you’d never touched the man more than a hug. If that was love, then perhaps you were in love, but you weren’t quite that naïve. At least, you weren’t naïve enough to admit it. 

“All knights are muscular,” answered Michonne matter-of-factly. “Let her highness be. Poor thing must already receive quite the thumping from Sir Dar―”

“Thumping?!” you replied, your horrified voice resounding over the ladies’ raucous laughter. “You’re terrible!”

The ladies’ mirth soon died down to a faltering giggle. Margaret sat up straight as she reached her hands up to fix her pearl-encrusted hennin, adjusting the translucent white veil back to its original dignified position. 

“Have you thought of it?” she asked with a smirk. 

“Of what?” You feigned innocence until the last possible second. It wouldn’t be befitting of a lady to even insinuate that you knew what she was talking about, but you did. From the moment he first put his hands on you, you knew of that desire, though you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t him who sparked it, but just the feeling. Any man could give you that feeling, right? Not just some knight… 

“Of laying with him?”

“No, not at all,” you lied again. “That would be wrong, you know that. We’re not married, and we could never be married, anyway. In any case, my feelings are not of that nature.”

Even as those false words tore through your vocal cords, you knew it was wrong, and you realized then, with a pit forming in your stomach and a rush of tingles surging through your veins, that you did feel some kind of attraction to the knight. It was evident in every thought of him that lingered in your mind long after he’d leave you alone in your chambers after a day of frolicking in the meadows and listening to the soft-spoken, knowledgeable man speak of every herb and tree and flower, his voice both gentle like a whisper and rough like sandpaper. 

You found that an emptiness creeped up on you at times when he wasn’t near you, a sense of something missing that had taken root inside your heart. When those roots were torn from you, you would soothe yourself with the recorded memory of his voice, his face, his body… 

Perhaps I do feel something for Sir Daryl, you thought to yourself.

But it didn’t matter what the true nature of your feelings were. The truth was that you could never admit these thoughts to anyone, not even him, and especially not your father. 

It wasn’t like you found yourself rather fond of a man like Duke Richard, who was below your class, but high enough to be your suitor. A knight was below nobility. Higher than the serfs, but too low for a woman of your status, the highest status. He would’ve been able to court a lady perhaps, like Michonne or Margaret, or any woman of noble birth, but not you. Certainly not you. 

So you willed the thoughts from your mind whenever they materialized, however they did so. The difficulty was in denying yourself the strange pleasure you felt from thinking of him, the longing. It was nearly unbearable to send those enchanting little shivers away, or to tear your gaze from him when you spotted him from a distance in the courtyard or the great hall. Oh, how you wished to allow yourself the thrill of thinking of him and his sweetness, his kindness, his devotion to you… But it was much too risky. 

What you didn’t know, though, was how he ached for you, too.

That very same evening, you’d been called to dinner with your father in the great hall, just as usual, but there was something on the king’s mind. His joviality was much more subdued, almost to the point of melancholy, but he kept his spirits up artificially. Smiles were propped up on crutches and laughs were haphazardly pieced together by glue. In fact, he hadn’t been himself for a while, but it was a gradual change in demeanor that seemed to evolve into a darker shade of blue as the days went by. 

There was much for him to be saddened by―the world was broken, he was indefinitely grieving the tragic loss of your mother, but these things had always been there since the Scourge began. No, this was something different, but you weren’t going to prod him, since it seemed that he himself wanted to display his usual image of jolly optimism.

As you poked at your generous helping of pheasant and turnips, the king talked at length about his plans for the upcoming annual jousting tournament, to which you simply nodded and interjected occasional brief acknowledgements. Noticing your lack of enthusiasm on the topic, he ventured to change the subject.

“I’ve been told you’ve fallen ill several times when I’m away,” he said, garnering your attention rather ungraciously as you bit your tongue in the midst of chewing on the tender game. As you dabbed your lips with your cloth serviette, he continued, his voice not coated in distrust or suspicion of your subterfuge, but drenched in fatherly concern. “Tell me, what seems to be the ailment, my dear? I could send for the apothecary… I’m concerned for you. I couldn’t bear to think…” His voice quivered before it trailed off into nothingness. Reaching across the surface of the wooden table, he grasped your hand. “Speak to me.”

What were you to say? Oh, father, I’m perfectly fine. In fact, I might be falling in love with a knight who is so graciously sneaking me out of the kingdom when you’re away! Or, if you continued the ruse, you were sure that the king’s apothecary would diagnose you with a typical case of hysteria, or perhaps a wandering womb. Perhaps both. A woman’s medical health was scarcely taken seriously, and besides, there was nothing wrong with you, anyway. If you were found to be hysteric, there was a chance you’d be married off immediately to whatever suitor was closest at hand. Afterall, the first and foremost remedy for a hysterical woman was sex with a man. Something about “sexual frustration” and the “healing properties of semen.” You weren’t entirely sure, as you’d put down that book on common medical ailments about as soon as you picked it up. It all seemed like hogwash to you.

“I’m fine, father,” you replied with a smile, though you still had to work up some kind of story to explain your illness. “It’s just… headaches.” That seemed to concern him more, though you were sure any description of symptoms would cause him worry. “It’s nothing serious. It’s probably just… foul air, or something of that sort. Nothing to worry about.”

You startled for a moment when a loud chuff from the tiger (yes, the tiger) at your father’s feet reverberated through you. “Oh!” you breathed, your hand holding your heart as you calmed. “Shiva… Father, may I feed her the rest of my pheasant? I’m full.”

The king seemed distracted now, his eyes roaming aimlessly towards the roaring fire of the hearth. “What? Oh, yes…” He pursed his lips to make a kissing sound at the cat, to which the great animal stood on its four feet. Her warm amber colored eyes followed his hand, which pointed towards you as you held out the game for the tiger. 

“Come here, my pet,” you cooed, having become quite accustomed to the exotic animal in your home. Ezekiel was never a conventional king, after all, and he took great care of Shiva, so why not keep her in the house? She was a beautiful creature, slyly slinking across the great hall with her prize after receiving a gentle pat between her ears from you. 

And now, you raised your eyes to look concerned at your father, whose behavior as of late worried you. “Now, won’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” Not only were you fretting for him, but it took the weight of your deception off your shoulders for a moment as you shifted the conversation to him. “You’ve been acting stranger than me. Is it…” The Saviors, you wanted to say, but you had to be careful, as the king must not know that you’d heard about the attacks, and that you’d known all this time that his trips were to meet with neighboring kingdoms to discuss what to do about the infamous Sir Negan and his band of violent plunderers. 

And, of course, there was the issue of… what you’d heard the man had wanted. You hadn’t heard word of this threat in months, not since you eavesdropped on your father’s conversation with the constable, but it hadn’t left your mind since. In fact, the only times you could forget about it were the times you spent close to Sir Daryl, who seemed to whisk you away on a new adventure each time you climbed on the back of his horse, holding tight to his waist and feeling the warmth of his broad back as you rested your chin happily upon his shoulder. His warm, earthy scent had lingered, too, as well as the feeling of his strong, brawny frame barely fitting in your arms’ grasp. 

Oh, yes. Father. “What is troubling you, father?”

In his heart, he knew you deserved to know, but he’d been dreading it until the last possible second, until he knew for sure whether or not the threat was completely legitimate, and not just some dramatic ramblings of a negligible ne’er-do-well. Now, though, it seemed that the threat of Sir Negan and the Saviors was very real, and very serious. 

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearing his throat as he straightened his back and narrowed his warm brown eyes to a dark, foreboding stare. Whatever he was about to say, you were half-certain you’d know what it would be, but that look on his face was not encouraging. Could it have been worse than what you’d already heard? Of course it could… It’s much more common for things to turn worse rather than better, you’d come to realize.

“There has been… something troubling me for quite some time, daughter. I―I was… not anticipating worrying you with the comings-and-goings in the kingdom. I always tried to keep such things off your mind, to not burden you with matters of petty crime or town gossip, but there’s…” He shifted again, a discomfort contorting his face as he tried to hold back a grimace. You’d never really seen such anger hidden behind his eyes, coming out so visibly. It made your heart race and your hand shake as you raised your goblet of cider to your lips. 

“My dear,” he sighed, “there’s peril in Alexandria. I must admit, I didn’t think it was this serious, but I’m afraid I can’t deny it any longer.”

A silence followed, torturing you as you waited for him to speak again. “Just tell me,” you said. “Tell me what’s happening.”

Please don’t give me to that man.

Knowing he was now left with the consequences of delaying his vague warnings, he inhaled deeply before speaking, his voice eerily calm, though you knew such a tone hid a terrible anxiety. 

“For the past four months,” he began, “the constable has been dealing with some… unsavory characters. They’re not from our kingdom, in fact, we do not know where they come from, other than a that it is a fortress known only as the Sanctuary… It’s a group of thugs. Racketeers, extortionists, thieves, whatever you want to call them. They’re led by a knight who calls himself Sir Negan.” At this point, he let out a heavy, deep huff. Even the mention of the man’s name seemed to disturb him. It certainly disturbed you, your body shivering as you inched closer and closer to the reveal of whatever terror was troubling the usually jovial king, and whatever news you were to receive regarding Sir Negan and his… desires.

“Sir Negan,” he continued, “he’s a very bad man… I won’t go into the details in front of you, because it’s surely nothing a lady needs to hear, but there is something you need to know.”

No, please… Please, father. 

In any other situation, the feeling of his warm hand cupping yours would’ve been welcome, but now, it only seemed like an attempt to reduce the blow of whatever terrible news you were about to receive. You felt as though your blood was rushing to your head, coagulating around the top. You blinked hard and sucked in strained, short breaths. 

To make matters worse, he drew out the heavy, unbearable silence of anticipation until the last possible second before he spoke again, finally relieving you of your anxiety, though you only felt like fainting when the words were fully processed by your dizzied mind. 

“He demands your hand in marriage.”

Pulling your hand away shakily you palmed your forehead, as if such a movement could possibly put an end to the incessant pounding. 

Though you knew this was coming, and you’d tried to prepare yourself to hear it for the past four months, you’d hoped that the knight would’ve been defeated, or he would’ve called off his threats when Alexandria’s militia cracked down on his men’s crime sprees, but no, this was not the case, and now you had to face the fact that this wasn’t just some idle threat or empty effort at intimidation, it was real, and it was getting closer. 

The king uttered your name a few times, but it was a blurred sound. Only when you blinked yourself back to reality did you process his words. “My dear…” He seemed near speechless, too, but his voice pulled through. “He’s left us numerous… messages, all of which threaten to seize the throne of Alexandria by force, unless I give you to him.”

But you wouldn’t, you thought. Please, father. You wouldn’t. I know you wouldn’t. 

This time, both of his hands reached out to form a cradle around yours. No longer was it a foreboding presence, but a comforting one. You raised your wet eyes to look at him, a small smile forming. How could he smile at a time like this? 

He squeezed your hands, then spoke in an almost dulcet, sentimental tone. “But I’d let this castle burn to embers before I would ever let a man like that take you away.”

Thank God!

“Oh, father,” you sighed in relief, though it was a short-lived comfort. The thought of your kingdom that you loved so much burning to the ground, or being ransacked and sieged by such scoundrels… It filled you with a rage and a fear and a sadness beyond anything you’d felt before. You didn’t know you could feel so hot, but your anger was prickling at your skin like the wild flames of a raging fire. “But… we cannot let them kill our people, take our kingdom. Can’t the constable form a battalion to fight them? This… sanctuary… If you know where it is, you could send a cavalry of your best knights to wipe them out, couldn’t you?”

“That’s the problem—we have no way of knowing where the Sanctuary is. We’ve tried capturing a Savior, interrogating him, but he was so loyal to Negan, even said he was Negan. They all say that—‘I’m Negan. We’re all Negan.’ All we know of Negan, besides his rather bold demands, is that he wields a spiked mace and wears black plate armor. Besides that, we know from neighboring kingdoms that they, too, have been weakened by the Saviors, and it appears that, if we tried to form a coalition against them, our combined defenses would not be enough to hold against them. Their numbers are great, and it’s only a matter of time before they stir up more trouble, which is why I’ve decided that you are to be accompanied from now on by a personal bodyguard, just in case.”

You perked up at that, back straightened and eyes staring wide at your father, not so much in shock, but in excitement, because you immediately had a particular knight in mind. 

“Of course, we’ll still be trying to get whatever information we can, following leads to see where this Sanctuary is, but first and foremost, I want my daughter to be safe, no matter what. Day and night. Always under the supervision of a bodyguard.”

Oh, please, father… Let me choose him. 

“Yes, father,” you replied with a nod, and a sweet smile, as you prepared yourself to beg on your knees to choose. Of course Sir Daryl would have to be your bodyguard, no question. You trusted him more than any of the king’s guards, and you were sure that every other knight in Alexandria paled in comparison to the gallantry of Sir Daryl of House Dixon. And besides, you felt safe with him. “Pray, who will you assign to be my bodyguard? Or will I be able to choose?”

The king raised a wiry gray eyebrow. “Oh… Well, I was thinking of assigning one of my guards, but is there someone in particular you had in mind?”

Trying not to appear too eager, you shrugged your shoulders as you picked up your fork to play with the leftover cold turnips on your plate. If you weren’t trying to remain nonchalant, you would’ve screamed his name to the heavens—Sir Daryl! 

“I’d like to think about it,” you said. “I will let you know soon. I’m rather spent. I think I’ll retire now.”

With an exchange of goodnights and I love you’s, you retreated to your quarters with a spring in your step, eager to next see Sir Daryl, and to ask him to be your protector, officially.

The wind stirred up a flurry of leaves in the distance, while a dark cluster of clouds began to converge above you. A single, featherlight droplet landed upon your cheek, but you only smiled up at the gray sky above you. It was good to feel the rain. Back at the keep, your father would never allow you to set foot into the courtyard in this weather for fear of you catching cold, and perhaps that made the rain all the more magical for you. Its forbiddenness only perpetuated your intrigue. 

When a chill wind made you visibly shiver, you were reminded of the knight’s presence as he draped his heavy wool cloak over your shoulders. “We should go back,” he said, his voice low and raspy. You’d grown so comforted by it, its scratchiness akin to the very same wool you felt tickling your fingers as you bundled yourself up. 

“Just a little while longer?” you asked. After a while, you’d begun to notice Sir Daryl was more accommodating to you when widened your eyes or spoke with a particular lilt. In fact, you couldn’t recall a recent time in which the man had said no to you. “Please?”

He bent his outstretched leg with a huff, resting his elbow upon his knee as he debated for a moment, knowing full well that your saccharine pleas were going to win out in the end anyway. In fact, he didn’t want to head back, either. He wanted to stay planted in this circle of overgrown grass, surrounded by the ancient standing stones that towered over the two of you, making you both feel so small, so unimportant. Somehow, it was a welcome relief for both of you, being in this world where status and circumstance didn’t seem to matter. 

Whatever fight was in him, it melted like an ice cube over an open flame when your lips curled into an effortless smile, your gaze directed at him, and only him. Just a little smile sent his way was enough to make him feel more special than any nobleman. So, he gave in, as he knew he would. He always did. 

“Just a little while,” he agreed, leaning back on his forearms to stretch out his legs once again. Closing his eyes, he held his face flat up to the sprinkling cloud above, with a slight upward tilt of his pleasantly hairy chin. You followed suit, leaning back to turn on your side and admire his profile—his short, snub nose, wispy brown hairs hanging unruly over his forehead and climbing over his cheeks like overgrown ivy. Somewhere in the darkness of his mop of wavy locks, there was a sliver of pale skin poking out, identifying his ear. It was one of the many small details of him you admired, and you found yourself wanting to outstretch your finger and just trace the helix of his ear, but your shyness overcame you, as it always did whenever you thought of touching him. Lately, you’d thought of touching him in places you’d never even seen drawings of before. Actually, you almost had no idea what to expect of those places, but you imagined them nonetheless.

“Daryl?” you asked, letting your head fall into the cradle of your arm as you tried to memorize this angle of him, just for your own pleasure. He was making you so selfish, in that everything he did was becoming an indulgence for you. 

“Hm?” he answered with a grunt. 

In a matter of moments, you had to actually think about what you were going to say. You hadn’t thought that far ahead, you just wanted to say his name. Maybe, in your subconscious, you really wanted to ask if he’d let you hold his hand. Your innocence wouldn’t let you do much more than that, but even that was more than you should’ve done. 

“What are you thinking about?”

Your breath shuddered when he turned to look at you, his eyes sleepy and soft. “Nothin’.” That was a lie. He’d been thinking about you, as he always did these days. He was thinking about all the things he was too afraid to do, and how he might’ve done them if only he could gather the strength to. 

“Nothing?”

“Nothin’.”

“That’s impossible,” you laughed, using your arm to prop yourself up until you were looking down on him. His eyes followed you curiously, and yours trailed down the buttons of his charcoal colored pourpoint. The garment was tight-fitting, hugging the man’s strapping frame. When your eyes reached his belt, you ripped your gaze away, back to his face. “How can one not think? I’m always thinking.”

“Just… wasn’t thinkin’ about anythin’ in particular. What were you thinkin’ about, then, princess?”

You. 

“Well, lots of things, like how it’s dangerous for us to be out here.”

“No shit,” he snickered playfully. Though you’d never really heard such language used in front of you before, you found it quite amusing when the knight cursed. 

“I mean, with the Saviors… Surely you’ve heard of them.”

“Mm, heard some talk about it.”

You wished you could've been so blissfully unaware enough to say you’d only heard “some talk.” You wondered just what kind of talk he’d heard, and if he knew of Negan’s plans. Only three nights ago had the king confirmed your worst fears, and it plagued your mind more than it had since the first you heard of it. That reminded you… At some point today, you’d have to work up the courage to ask the knight to be your bodyguard. Just how on Earth were you going to do that? 

“What did you hear?”

He felt the shiver in your voice, but it didn’t seem to be from the cold wind or raindrops. It came from inside you, and now, he grew a little worried, as if you knew something he didn’t. He sat up slowly, almost cautiously. “Not much, just that the constable was strengthening Alexandria’s defenses in case of an attack. Why? Did you hear something more?”

“Well… Yes. There’s more.” As you debated on whether or not to tell him of what troubled you so, you felt a tightening around your body. Daryl’s gloved hands were wrapping you more snugly in his cloak, to which you raised your head and smiled up at him. Without any words between you, he met your gaze, and offered a slight smile in return. “Thank you.”

“You seem cold…” he replied quickly, trailing off before clearing his throat. “And sad.” 

Actually, you were quite warm, but it was the sadness, and the fear, inside you that made you shiver. “I’m a bit melancholy. I… do not know if I should tell you what troubles me.”

He chewed his bottom lip while his brows furrowed in concentrated thought. He had to tread this territory carefully, knowing his position. Status dictated everything, from the food one ate to the clothes on one’s back. Despite how close he felt to you now, he couldn’t risk knowing too much of what he wasn’t entitled to know. But, then again, he’d already broken almost every rule in the book, all for your sake. If he decided that he could break yet another rule, just to alleviate the sadness in your heart, he’d find a way to forgive himself.

“Princess,” he said, the reiteration of your title having become somewhat of an affectionate pet name for you, now that most verbal social niceties were extinct between you two. “I don’t wanna… stick my nose where it don’t belong, but, if I may… You should know that you can tell me anything.”

“I can?” you replied, relief lighting up your face even at the idea of finally being able to tell someone of your worries. When you recalled the contents of what you were about to tell him, the color drained from your visage.

He only could focus on a few of the keywords, but they were the ones that melded together to fill his heart with dread—Sir Negan… demanding… hand in marriage. 

No, was his first thought, and it slowly morphed into a whirlwind of dizzied pleas that bounced off the walls of his head, directed towards whatever unseen force directed the universe and made his worst dream come true. For you to leave, to be taken against your will and to see the real evils of this world, that was something he hadn’t been able to quite fathom, though it plagued his mind whenever he remembered the risk of developing these feelings for you. He should’ve known all along that as soon as he allowed his inescapable tenderness for you to invade every nook and cranny of his heart, he’d have to face some kind of ache much greater than his fear of his affections going unrequited. No, this was much worse. The prospect of you getting hurt was beyond any other pain.

“But my father won’t let it happen,” you added, only slightly abating his worries. Still, he knew about men like this. They’d stop at nothing to get what they want, especially in a world where it’s just too easy to take. “But Sir Negan’s threats terrify me. I… wonder if it would be better for the kingdom, to spare so many lives, for my father to just—”

“No,” he interjected. “No, that’s not an option.”

As always, you were amused by his sudden boldness. “I do not want the kingdom to fall because of my father’s pride.”

“It’s not pride,” he replied. Never in a million years did he think he’d defend the decision of a monarch, and yet, here he was. “It’s the right thing to do. He loves you. No one should ever just give away someone they love.”

And then it hit him, his lips hanging open ever so slightly, chapped against the cold wind. Like the Red Sea, his mind diverged into two disparate voices, one that seemed to be his own, the other, some much more chivalrous caricature of himself.

First, his own voice choked out: I love you. 

The farcical knight replied, Shut your mouth, you lecherous fopdoodle. No you do not.

Yes, I do.

No, you do not. Lust. Do not lust in your heart after her beauty or let her captivate you with her eyes.

If you spit another useless bible verse at me, I’ll drill a hole in my head.

And, in a matter of milliseconds, the voice left, with only Daryl’s own inner voice there to come to terms with what his feelings really meant. 

I won’t let anyone have her.

With night came the usual routine—Daryl thought of some distraction to occupy the guards before he escorted you back to your chambers. This time, his cautiousness led him to latch your windows shut himself, and to leave a freshly sharpened knife upon your bedside table. 

It only reminded you again of what you’d yet to ask of him. 

“Daryl?” you said, halting him in his tracks just as he was about to take his leave. “May I ask something of you, if I haven’t asked too much of you already?”

Before he turned back to face you, he smiled sweetly to himself, a smile he had to hide from you, lest he seem too eager to serve you, but, oh, he was. He lived to serve you now. Not the duke, not the king, not even God—not anyone else but you. 

“Yes, milady?” he replied formally. It almost threw you for a loop, the way he could swing so effortlessly between decorum and familiarity. “And don’t give me another shiny thing.”

Actually, you weren’t even sure if you had any more shiny things to give to him, since you’d given him a different piece of jewelry each time he returned you home safely. “No,” you replied with a chuckle under your breath. “It isn’t that. I actually wanted to ask… Well, my father says I must choose someone to be my personal bodyguard, and…” Swallowing hard, you shrugged your shoulders as a girlish bashfulness overcame you. Unbecoming behavior for a princess, your etiquette instructor would’ve said. “You make me feel safe.”

The voice inside his head returned for a split second, just to frantically reiterate what he’d said earlier: I love you I love you I love you I—

“And I know you’ve done so much for me already that it’s terribly ungracious of me to ask you to do such a thing, and you are under absolutely no obligation to say yes, but—”

“I’ll be your bodyguard.” Indeed, he was sure he would not be able to handle the idea of any other man protecting you in such a... thorough way.

“Oh?” You sighed as the tightness escaped from your diaphragm. “Oh, Daryl, thank you. I don’t think I could ever repay you for anything you’ve done for me.” But how you wished you could, in ways that your innocent mind couldn’t have even fully fathomed. Your heart and your body, however, knew all too well. 

“You don’t owe me anything,” he said bluntly. “You don’t owe anyone anything.”

But you could still give him something. Not jewelry, but something that symbolized much more than that. 

The sparkle of the flame that reflected against the steel of the knife upon your bedside table attracted your attention as your mind instructed you to cross the room and take the blade in your hands. Strange, you’d never held a knife before. Well, only steak knives. 

“What the hell are you doin’?” asked the knight. “I said I’d do it.”

“I am not going to kill you, sir,” you laughed, crossing back over to him with your other arm outstretched, the long, flared sleeve of your scarlet houppelande hanging most elegantly before him. “Hold my sleeve, if you please.”

The knight’s gaze turned characteristically suspicious, with narrowed eyes studying your almost mischievous face. After all, you’d never done anything like this before. “Why?”

“Just hold my sleeve… Keep it steady.”

Cautiously, he took the end of the fabric between his calloused fingers. It was soft, like everything about you. Luxurious silk of this kind was truly hard to come by, and he almost feared he’d ruin it just with one touch. 

As you raised your dominant hand, the one that held the knife, he began to worry. “Careful with that thing,” he said, following the blade with his eye as you raised it to your sleeve, just below your arm. His confusion at your actions was overwhelmed by his irrational fear that you’d cut yourself. 

As the long vermillion shard of your sleeve fell to the floor, he nearly let out a gasp. “Now why the hell did you do that, woman? This some kind of new fashion statement?”

“No!” you laughed, bending over to retrieve the fallen garment. With the knife now replaced on your nightstand, your delicate fingers worked to fold the piece of fabric into a triangular shape. Despite his suspicions, he didn’t dare assume he knew what you were doing, until he did. “Ahem… Sir Daryl of House Dixon, oh gallant knight, will you accept this favor, and be my champion?”

If he hadn’t been frozen in awe and confusion, he might’ve laughed at your sudden formality, but you seemed serious. “What?”

That response almost stripped you of all your shaky confidence. Almost. “Have you never accepted a lady’s favor?”

Never been given one. 

“I, uh… Why?”

“Why what?” you laughed.

“Why are you giving this to me?”

You rolled your eyes, as to you it was obvious. Who else would you give a favor to? Besides, he was the only knight you knew well enough to do so. 

“Because a lady always bestows her favor upon her favorite knight.”

He swore he could feel every nerve in his body twitch and tighten with every second he replayed that word in his mind. Favorite. He was sure that in all his life, he’d never been anyone’s favorite anything.

“So, will you accept?”

Words were never the knight’s strong suit. At times, he found actions to be much easier for him to communicate through, and this seemed to be one of those times. 

He wasn’t sure of the official ceremony, or if there even was one, but he was already a bit weak in the knees anyway, so he decided to let himself kneel before you, hand held out to accept your favor. 

Only three words persisted in his head when you delicately bestowed the red sleeve upon his palm: I love you. 

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated!

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[skiiyoomin]

I was wondering if you could write a saiki & reader oneshot fic with a reader who has DID & C-PTSD and paranoid tendencies? I understand that that might be a bit too hard to write but just in case I got some recorces that might be handy, here is the link to DID listing from my own copy of the newest version of the DSM https://www.dropbox.com/sh/htaraej65e34tg9/AADBATmelRQFUBfTMxaJ3W6wa?dl=0 as well as this website that has a lot of good info on it https://did-research.org/ and this page I found that has a brief overview of C-PTSD https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/24881-cptsd-complex-ptsd but I also recommend quickly reading thru the different types of flashbacks (shouldn't be that hard to find info on)

The main idea is that because of the mix dissociation,switching,paranoia, different types of flashbacks etc that the readers thoughts are very fucking confusing to saiki (feel free to use this premise for any kind of plot you want just try not to make it overly angsty is all I ask, well as un-angsty as you can get with C-PTSD anyways lol) I just wanna see more y/n / reader inserts that I can actually relate to but the saiki K fandom is so small

Can be platonic or romantic

Hi!! So sorry for the late reply, I researched as much as I could so if theres anything remotely wrong or different please tell me! Ngl, im not very sure i like how it turned out, nevertheless I hope you enjoy :))

Also i totally get that its hard finding stuff for saiki k which is the reason why i write for it in the first place, they totally deserve more recognition!! Feel free to send more requests in the future!!

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Content: somewhat angsty but not really, i tried to be as vague as possible so as not to trigger anyone, reader suffers from trauma, DID, CPTSD, swearing, fluffy ending? slightly oc saiki

Summary: Saiki was used to listening to many types of thoughts, and at one point, nothing he heard surprised him. However when you came around, he was beyond confused. What sparks as a little curiosity might turn into something more.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

ღNo matter what

He was used to it, or at least that's what he used to tell himself. Throughout the years he had heard all sorts of thoughts, at one point, he learned to tune them out when need be, having listened in on weird enough ideas that now don't surprise him anymore.

When you came in the picture, he was...baffled, to say the least. Confusing wasn't even close of a word to express how he felt. Your thought process was anything but simple. At times it'd be a fuzzy mess almost as if you lost part of your memory, other times, you'd think as if you were a completely different person, contradicting many of your previous thoughts. But what disturbed him most was the series of traumatic thoughts that would cross your mind. Flashbacks he realized in that moment.

In the beginning he felt annoyed, as per usual. Often times, he'd find you in class with a dazed expression, which to be frank, he had seen enough times to not give it a second thought. But then his attention would be caught when your mind would wander and you'd start thinking in a very unusual way. They were so unlike the person you presented to be, so much so that Saiki was left perplexed and in need to understand exactly what was going on.

The more it happened the more worried he'd be. There were days where you acted a certain way, and other days where you acted completely different. He could tell you weren't being fake trying to act differently for attention, after all, your thoughts lined up with the you acted and the things you said. Rather, it was the abrupt changes in your behaviour that had him thinking for far longer than he normally would.

Along the way, he also picked up how you'd flinch if you were in sudden physical contact, the way your shoulders would tense and the way your heart beat would speed up. Saiki wasn't stupid of course, he was aware that all of this was caused by some form of trauma.

He knew not to pry, yet his heart strings pulled everytime he saw you having a bad moment. So he began to follow you, in disguise of course, and even if he seemed like a stalker, he couldn't help it. Eventually he began to connect the dots, your reactions, behaviors, everything. It made sense now.

Unconciously, his words began to soften around you, his touch became gentler, he looked out for you in ways he had never done so with others. You began to notice but in no way did you mind, if anything, Saiki was someone you took great comfort in. What started of small slowly grew into something neither of you expected.

Of course, that didn't make it any less hard for either of you. Like right now. You were laying in Saikis bed, your head resting on his shoulder as you watched a movie, when suddenly a specific scene had triggered an anxiety attack. Your mind was racing through flashbacks of the many disturbing events you had gone through. Saiki was up almost immediately, having read your mind and sensed your reaction.

His touch was soft, his hands cupping your face so gently you'd think he was scared to break you, which he was. He was in no way someone who could comfort others easily. Nevertheless he tried his best. He attempted to lower your heart rate, rubbing small circles against your back as his other hand held the back of your head. No words were needed, they never were. He had, in a way, been there for you, way before you two even became a thing, so none of this was a surprise for either of you.

That didn't ease the guilt in your heart any less. You always felt bad. You knew Saiki could read you, literally. And well, it wasn't pretty. Countless times you had attempted to push him away, yet he never budged.

"'m sorry" you mumbled against his shoulder as your rested your head on it.

He cupped your face in his hands, pulling you to look at him.

`I won't let you push me away. The things you went through won't make me see you any differently, because to me you'll still be someone I cherish'

Your eyes welled up as you looked him deep in the eyes, finding nothing but love for you. Still cupping your face, he ran his thumbs under your eyes, wiping the tears away. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

'I love you'

"No matter what?"

`No matter what'

[illarian-rambling]

I've been cooking this in my brain for a while (thanks for the inspiration btw @mk-writes-stuff) and I think it'd be fun to do an Illaros themed ask game, so here goes!

🌠Illari Themed Asks🌠

Questions about characters:

Izjik - How does this character fight? Do they have a particular style of combat, or do they avoid violence altogether?

Sepo - What's something that, without fail, will always make this character angry?

Twenari - Is this character an expert in anything?

Djek - What is the best joke this character knows?

Astra - How self-confident is this character, and how earned is that confidence?

Mashal - Does this character have any major contradictions between facets of their personality?

Ivander - Is this character beholden to a higher power?

Elsind - What genre of stories does this character enjoy?

Avymere - Would you trust this character to run a country?

Faalgun - What gets this character's blood pumping?

Nyda - What did this character want to be when they grew up?

Kaulakri - Does this character plan or improvise? Are they good at it?

Pash - Does this character have a strict moral code? What's a line they won't cross?

Anarac - How does their trauma (I know they have some) affect their mannerisms and behavior?

Questions about the setting:

The Trench - How are criminals punished, and for what crimes?

Seluthena - What is the history of music in this world? How has music changed over time?

Illankas - How many religions are there, and how do they interact?

Unity - Describe a stroll down the street of the largest city in your world.

The Flying City - Have people made it to space yet? What is outer space like in your setting?

Landanium - Are there any diseases unique to this world?

Yewbury - What classes could you find at a college in this world?

Salis - What is the harshest climate people live in here?

Nace - How does organized crime work here? Who is currently on top of the criminal underworld?

Questions for the author (based on things in my writing space):

Playlist - Do you have anything you need in order to focus on writing?

Laptop - By what means do you prefer to write? Computer, phone, handwriting, or something else?

MacKenzie - Give us a picture of your pet if you have one :3

Blanket - What trope are you the best at writing?

Aloe Vera - Are there any skills you have in real life that you've been able to include in your writing? (Ex. chef describing food, martial artist writing fight scenes)

Sketchbook - What do you do to keep yourself inspired when you take a break from writing?

Hope this is fun, maybe? Feel free to send me asks too! I'll put my tag list under the cut :)

And have a bitchin day!

@amandacanwrite @elsie-writes @riveriafalll @kosmic-kore @kaylinalexanderbooks

@bard-coded @carrotsinnovember @patternwelded-quill @somethingclevermahogony @whatwewrotepodcast

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