#he's my comfort character your honour

[kylobith]

*waves hands around*

Éomer. Y'know?

[total-drama-brainrot]

reading through my drafts and debating over whether the fandom is ready for my (fully self-indulgent and super reaching) asexual cody headcanon rant that i typed out in a frenzy like a month ago

[dear-jamespotter]

George Karim deserves all the kisses in the world

[clonesupport]

alright so here’s the whole doosey that is my complicated romance lore throughout the entirety of rdr2’s story line

main couple: Amalla x Arthur | these two are the big g couple, power couple, the two that are together the longest (without including any head cannons after rdr2) and the most meaningful relationship. they’ve been together for about a year prior to chapter 1. Amalla having been with the gang for a few years before they got together because Arthur was much aware of their age gap and even if Amalla was willing to risk it all he wanted to be as respectful and right as possible bless this man

now those two also are low key in a throuple/open relationship with Hosea because i love him so much oh my god one time i read a cuckolding fic between hosea x reader x arthur and it changed my life so this is a thing now so let us introduce;

on going: Hosea x Amalla x Arthur | Hosea takes care of Amalla when arthur is away/all the time or whenever Amalla is feeling like she needs a matured gentle hand of care and tlc TwT don’t get her wrong, Arthur is a perfect partner who’s just as caring and gentle when he means to be only with her but Hosea’s touch just this different if you know what i mean. Hosea joined the band wagon in sharing Amalla with Arthur about 9 months after Amalla and Arthur started seeing each other.

post chapter 6: Charles x Amalla | Charles quickly became one of Amalla’s closest friend since the beginning, he always cared for her and did end up having a crush on her but at the time she was with Arthur and Hosea so figured knew she was preoccupied to bother with him in a romantic setting. stuffing away his feelings and showing that care in other ways even if it was only friendship, he was happy to be around her either way. big ol skip to post chapter 6, he helps Amalla heal after so much loss and grief, eventually after over a year Amalla let herself move on, to love again and Charles was the lucky man to be able to help her do so, by her side all the time as always.

[ithebookhoarder]

(BAU Headcanons) If you fell asleep on them

A/N: So... guess who fell into another fandom? I blame everyone on here and their amazing fics for convincing me I need to give this show and wonderful cast a chance. I may have binged 13 seasons in like a month... oops? I'm also looking at my fav BAU bunch here but I'm open to writing for other characters from the show

Aaron Hotchner

Just like some of the other members of his team, Hotch has a hard exterior that very few people manage to crack through. 

If you and he are in a relationship then I can bet you’ve already had to chip away at it, so you’re already pretty intimate with one another. Falling asleep on him is nothing to bat an eyelid at. If anything, he would welcome the opportunity to relax and hold you close to him.  

It also gives him an excuse to steal a few moments of sleep himself, not daring to move and wake you from your rest. 

He loves holding you close, letting himself listen to the steady beating of you heart as it gently lulls him to become calm enough to shut his eyes. 

However, if you weren’t in a relationship or if it happened in front of the others at the BAU then you know he’d immediately react by saying something about ‘work place conduct’. 

However, he’s clearly saying it for the sake of it as he’d make no effort to wake you or remove you from him. 

In fact, he makes sure to stay still and let you rest peacefully, making sure your neck isn’t bent so you don’t wake up in pain. 

He’d also make sure to lay his jacket over the top of you, a clear sign that you are not to be disturbed - under pain of death. 

David Rossi 

Rossi would be the first to complain if you ever fell asleep on him but it’s all good natured. In fact, he only ever complains about it to you after you’ve woken up and only as a joke between the two of you.

“What am I? Just a pillow to you? Are you trying to say my cooking has made me plump?” 

It’s hard to resist his charming smile, especially when he actually is rather comfortable to lean on. His expensive shirts are always soft to the touch, and the cologne you’d brought him last Christmas lingers as you nestle in close. 

He always make you feel safe, and that is an honour greater than any he’d ever been awarded. 

If it happened in front of the others you know he’d roll his eyes and mutter about the cheek of it all. However, his smile would be enough to tell the others he didn’t mean it. 

“I started reading my manuscript and this is what happens… guess that’s one way to leave a review.” 

He’d be sure to shoot daggers with his eyes at anyone else nearby who looked like they would wake you up. 

He’d also shoot down any possible jokes being made at your expense, his parental nature coming out in full force. 

Derek Morgan

This boy would be so smug if you ever fell asleep on him. Like, if you imagine a Labrador’s tail wagging with one of those big dopey grins, then that’s what he is. 

He is keen to try and capture the moment with a picture, setting it as his phone background to prove to himself it really happened. 

If it happens in front of the rest of the team then you know he is going to keep reminding you and everyone else whenever he gets the chance. 

However, you know that for all the bragging and teasing Morgan is actually super touched by the fact you fell asleep on him and he is keen to offer you a place to lay your head whenever you look like you need to take a beat. 

He even has a blanket and pillow in his go-bag especially for you. 

“Only the best for you, hot stuff.” 

He will never complain about it and - considering how much torture and pain we know this man can endure - he is more than capable of handling any cramp or pins and needles he gets as a result of you lying against him. 

Eventually, he would take the opportunity to try and sleep as well. With his job and his manic lifestyle, if he gets the chance to close his eyes he knows better than to waste it. 

Emily Prentiss

She would be shocked at first, especially if it’s early-on in your relationship. She isn’t really used to public displays of affection and you sleeping with your head on her shoulder is pretty public. 

She would stay as still as possible, though, scared of disturbing you or ruining the moment. She’d also probably be panicking internally, unsure what she was supposed to do. 

However, she soon takes a breath and relaxes. After all, you look so cute when you’re asleep and she is honoured you feel comfortable enough to relax around her like this. 

She doesn’t often get the chance to just sit and be peaceful so she savours the moment you’ve given her. 

She’d end up watching you for a while before relaxing and trying to adjust you so that you’re both comfortable. 

She would also take the opportunity to be affectionate, loving that she can run her hands through your hair and kiss your head without any fear of being embarrassed or rejected. 

After all, we know Emily has a soft centre underneath her tough, bad-ass exterior. She just needs to know she is able to express it. 

JJ

JJ is such a mom to everyone including you, so is over the moon the first time you fall asleep on her. She welcomes it with open arms, happy to melt into the embrace. 

It doesn’t matter if you’ve been together long or not, or if you’re in public. Either way, it feels like a personal badge of honour to be trusted in such a way, whether or not you meant to do it. 

She has enough patience not to move a muscle in case she disturbs you and ruins the moment. She knows that if you fell asleep like this then you probably need the rest. 

JJ would totally form a blanket cocoon around you to keep you warm and toasty as you sleep, wrapping her arms around you and cradling you close.

She’d smile the whole time, pressing kisses to the crown of your head and gently murmuring in your ear whenever you seem to stir. 

“Ssssh, Sleepyhead. It’s ok. I got you. Go back to sleep, honey.”   

If it was just the two of you then she’d be sure to try and move you somewhere more comfortable after a while, like the sofa or your bed. 

However, if you were in public then she would turn into a full mama bear and threaten anyone who came close or tried to disturb you. She has that angry mom look down to a fine art and has made grown men wither with it.

Penelope Garcia 

This beautiful baby angel would be so delighted if you fell asleep against her that she’d probably wake you up by accident after squealing a little too loudly. 

“Oh, oh, sorry. Sorry! Go back to sleep. I’m staying as still as a statue, you precious angel, I promise. So you just close your eyes and let me hold you.”

She’d probably manage like five minutes before she moves again and wakes you up, but it was enough time for her to steal a few private photos to commemorate the moment. 

They will most definitely be the background on her computer the following morning, and possibly yours too.

She would also be sure to make sure she has a blanket and pillow stashed away for you if you ever felt like taking an impromptu nap again when you weren’t at home. 

If you worked at the BAU they’d be kept in her lair - or your private napping room, as she tells you. 

They’d also be brightly coloured and super soft, chosen specifically by Penelope to make you as comfortable and as happy as possible, even whilst at the government building. 

“Just so you know, I gave them a spritz with this gorgeous lavender mist spray to help you knock right out the moment your pretty head hits the pillow. So, sweet dreams honeybun.” 

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer is a precious boy and would be utterly baffled at first if he looked down and realised you had fallen asleep on him. 

He would be surprised he hadn’t noticed you drooping against him sooner, or that your breathing had slowed as you fell asleep. 

At first he thinks it must be a mistake, immediately trying to ease you off of him. After all, he wasn’t the most comfortable person to sleep on and people are far more likely to find his company irksome rather than soothing. 

However, after you start doing it more often he realises that isn’t the case. 

In fact, he feels rather proud that you’ve got the point in your relationship where you aren’t afraid to relax around him. 

He also learns how not to let it over-stimulate him. It takes some time to train his mind to not think about the possible pathogens that could be passing between you or the way your hair tickles his face. He’s also able to talk to you about positions to curl up in if you ever want to sleep against him again, that he feels more relaxed in. 

He’d also totally be happy to tell you all about whatever his latest hyper-fixation is, knowing the sound of his voice helps you settle better than any lullaby. 

Masterlist

[gay-dorito-dust]

Benji Blackwood fic idea: apparently he’s a shy, honourable nobleman but an absolute unhinged feral warrior in battle. I can just imagine him being super sweet with his spouse but unleashing hell to the people that hurt her?

I live for protective characters ahaha

Taglist: @pearldaisy

You didn’t know what to think of Benjicot Blackwood, you really didn’t. All you knew of the man was the stories told of how much of a rabid dog he was in the heat of battle, that the moment he gets going he’s an ruthless and unstoppable force who smiled in the face of death.

The definition of a monster on the battlefield.

So when you finally met him you were confused, for Benjicot was anything unlike the terrifying man in the stories you’ve been told, but an awkward and somewhat shy man who’s kind smile had you feeling a light floating sensation within your chest. Benjicot Blackwood had to be the sweetest, most kindest nobleman you have ever had the pleasure to meet in the Riverlands. It also didn’t help that he was a handsome man on top of that too, with his beautiful eyes and well structured face, which helped somewhat but wasn’t the most important thing to you in any regard and merely an added attribute.

‘I had a feeling your feet would have you wandered off here.’ He says with a smile that reached his eyes before making himself at home by taking up the space beside you.

‘And a good morrow to you my lord.’ You greet him as you press a soft kiss to his cheek, making your head comfortable against his shoulder, glad that it was him who had found you rather than some wandering stranger. Ben sighs as he feels himself relax beneath your sweet affection, resting his head atop of yours as his hand reaches to intertwined with yours, a reminder that this was real and that you were real because to Ben you felt more of a dream then anything on most days and he didn’t wish to wake from this dream if it meant being by your side. ‘How many times have I told you to just call me Ben.’ Ben asks you softly, pressing a kiss to your head, already knowing the answer but just wanted an excuse to hear your voice.

You shifted to look him in the eyes and smile. ‘Too many to count?’

‘Too many to count indeed.’ Ben echoed in a lighthearted tone. ‘I swear you do this just to provoke me my darling.’ He adds as he looks at you just as the light catches his eye from between the leaves of the tree you sought shade under, making him appear more beautiful than he already was as you felt his calloused hand gently caress the back of your hand. It was strange, knowing that the man of the many stories and had the rough hands that further proved those stories of his unkept rage in battle true, could ever hold something or someone as gently and as softly as he did you.

You kiss his cheek again, finding it increasingly difficult to not grasp his face and kiss him on those plush lips of his, your silently cursed Ben for making you feel like that as you found yourself pressed further into his side, looking at him as though he had hung the stars in the sky in your honour. ‘Why would you say such a thing my lord?’ You said innocently enough but the spark of desire within Ben’s eyes were evident as he moved to rest his head against yours while he whispers huskily.

‘For you are well aware enough of the effect it has over me when it’s coming from your lips specifically.’

Before you could say anything in response a group of Brackens had came out of seemingly nowhere, snickering, and the sweet Benjicot Blackwood you had come to fall for was pushed aside for the man you’ve heard tales of as he moved to stand up in response of seeing his house rival.

‘Mind fucking off back home Bracken.’ Ben practically spat the name as though it were poison in his mouth.

‘Why? So you and your little beloved can have a little moment of privacy?’ The man in Bracken house colours said humourlessly as he looked over Ben’s shoulder to look at you. ‘Why ain’t you a pretty thing, Blackwood here is lucky to have you warm his bed I’m sure of it.’ You fought back the urge to smack the vile looking grin off of his face that brought forth a rage you didn’t know you had.

Ben must’ve felt your anger from where he stood as he moved himself so that he was in the Bracken’s line of sight, staring him down with a glare that contrasted the softness that was seemingly only reserved for your eyes only, or anyone that wasn’t a Bracken that was. ‘Keep my lady’s name out your fucking mouth.’ He seethed, jaw tense as his clenched his fists, readying himself for the inevitable fight that was about to come.

The dirty blonde haired man looked at Ben as though asking with his eyes if he was being serious and almost burst out laughing when he saw the look of pure rage encompass his entire face. ‘Oh, oh you’re being serious? Is Blackwood getting mad that his lady might have wandering eyes?’ Ben took a sharp inhale at the thought of this cunt being anywhere near you, his most dearest. The man was trying to get under his skin and he was succeeding, he knew he was in the way Ben looked more and more like a man on the verge of snapping.

Testing his luck, the dirty blonde from house Bracken took a step closer towards Ben but before his foot could touch ground or his words leave his mouth, Ben already had him tackled to the ground within a heartbeat and punching the absolute shit out of him; all the while as his little friends ran away scared that they’d be next in line, uncaring that their leader was pleading for them to help him.

The fight was severely on sided from what you could see, Ben had already broken the man’s nose and his knuckles were bruised, but in the midst of the all the adrenaline he was feeling in that moment the pain was forgotten as he kept punching the dirty blonde Bracken with the foul mouth, only until he was satisfied with his work and that the Bracken was rendered unconscious.

You didn’t move or say anything as Ben stood over the beaten and bloodied man with a crazed look in his eye, unsure of how to feel, before he looking back at you with that softness and care you came to adore. ‘Are you okay?’ He asks. It wasn’t until now did you see that the Bracken did manage to clip Ben on the mouth with something sharp, causing it to spit the skin and made him bleed, but you couldn’t help but find the sight of Ben in the aftermath of a fight oddly attractive; his chest was heaving, his hair disheveled and his knuckles both bruised and bloodied.

Your silence didn’t sit right with Ben as his brows furrowed and a lump in his throat formed as he crossed over to you, holding your face in his hands, snapping you out of your daze as you found yourself distributing your face between his beautiful eyes and his busted lip. ‘I didn’t scare you did I?’ He asks, worried of what you’ll say but when you placed your hands over his own, keeping him there as a soft smile graced your lips.

‘Scared? No, oh my gods no Benjicot, you didn’t scare me.’ You reassured him, looking him over in pride and utter adoration, ‘my god you’re anything but scary, my darling you are simply Devine.’ You add sincerely and that was enough for Ben to press his lips to yours despite the cut, licking at your lower lip to deepen the kiss as you happily complied, melting into him as he held you protectively in his arms where nothing could bring you harm.

[grandline-fics]

Terms of Endearment

DESCRIPTION:  You call them by a term of endearment without realising 

WARNINGS: just fluff, mentions of alcohol in Luffy's

CHARACTERS: Ace, Sabo, Luffy | Law, Kid, Shanks, Marco, Zoro

WORDS: 1,933

A/N: The next part in this in honour of reaching 500 followers. Hope you all enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

ACE

You knew nothing would ever happen between you and the Division Commander. You knew he was just a likeable guy who was friendly and warm with everyone. Countless times you told yourself that he was just nice with everyone and yet still you couldn’t help but feel your heart beat just a little faster when he smiled at you and you couldn’t stop yourself from liking him a little more each time he spoke with you and spent time with you outside of chores and tasks being done onboard the ship. It didn’t matter though, even with the knowledge nothing romantic would happen you were happy to be considered a close friend of Ace’s.

One morning you were perched on the edge of the ship’s railing and keeping a critical eye on the thick wall of cloud draped over the entirety of the sky above the next island you were approaching. It made a stark difference to the clear blue you and the rest of the crew were currently under. You were no stranger to the absurdity of the ever changing weather and separate climates certain islands had but seeing what you were going to be greeted with was starting to sour your mood. It wasn’t as fun stopping at an island if there was a storm to endure.

“Glaring at the clouds won’t make them change you know.” You looked over your shoulder to see Ace hop up onto the railing and sit down beside you. Glancing out of the corner of your eye you were jealous of how relaxed he was and let out a long sigh as you returned your stare to the clouds you could now see were darker than you had originally thought. 

“Who knows, stranger things have happened on these seas.” You mused, scowling harder now that the idea was in your head. “Maybe I have the ability to control weather and neither of us knew it? Don’t know unless I try.”

From beside you Ace laughed, reclining back to support his body on his elbows and grinned up at you. 

“If that were possible, that’d be a pretty dumb gift. Glaring at clouds to make them obey you? You’d get a headache all day.” You rolled your eyes and laughed, getting more comfortable too, lying down and tucking your arms behind your head. 

“Look we can’t all be super amazing and control fire like some people, Ace.” You teased, a small yawn breaking from your lips as your eyes closed. You were still a ways away from the stormy island so you may as well make the most of the sunshine and warmth until then. “Some of us are just boring.”

“I definitely wouldn’t call you boring.” Ace told you. Safely in the knowledge that you couldn’t see him, he could observe you carefully with softened gaze. “You’re one of my favourite people to hang out with.” 

“Aw thank you love, you always know just what to say.” Your relaxed smile brightened considerably but you were too drowsy to open your eyes again to look at the man beside you. It was also why you hadn’t realised your slip of the tongue. Ace however tensed and sat up a little straighter from his once relaxed position. His eyes were widened and a soft pink was dusting his freckled skin. All this time he’d thought his feelings were one-sided and now he was hit with the reality that it might not be the case. Overcome with a burst of excitement and hope he quickly lay back down and used his hat to hide his giddy expression and began to think about how to subtly broach the subject when you were awake.

SABO

“You’re not going to improve if you don’t keep your focus.” Hack lectured, swiftly knocking Sabo back with ease. Sabo managed to recover from the attack and retaliated with one of his own that was completely dodged to the point it made the attack look so pitiful. Hack paused in the sparring match to frown at the younger Revolutionary. “Seriously, what’s with you today? Do you need to take a break?” Quickly Sabo shook his head and forced himself to keep his attention on Hack but even then he couldn’t help but feel your presence silently calling to him. 

You were oblivious to the power you had over the Chief of Staff, even from the very first day you joined the Revolutionary Army you’d somehow managed to make Sabo immediately endeared to you. Given Sabo’s personality he was able to pass off his momentary slips and lack of concentration when you were around and for the most part others hadn’t made the connection. Most being the word. People like Hack, Koala, and Dragon however knew. Normally Hack wouldn’t mind and ignore it but this was the third time in the short amount of time of the sparring match that he’d seen Sabo zone out and look your way as you were speaking with Dragon about a recent mission you’d been on. Enough was enough. After knocking Sabo onto his back, Hack turned and called you over. You finished your conversation with Dragon and approached the sparring pair with a soft, expectant smile while Sabo got to his feet. “I want you to spar Sabo with me. Perhaps having two opponents will help sharpen his dulled senses.” 

You became concerned to hear Hack’s less than complimentary tone at the blond and you looked to Sabo with a light frown, scrutinising his features carefully. Could it be he was sick? Was something else be bothering him? It wasn't like the Chief of Staff to be so distracted especially when it came to his training. At the suggestion of you fighting along with Hack, Sabo’s expression became a mix of uncertainty and irritation. He didn’t want to spar against you but he couldn’t outright deny Hack requesting you join them given he had no real reason to oppose it. Sabo could only take a breath and adjust his stance while praying he didn’t make an embarrassment of himself.

At first having you as part of the fight helped Sabo when it came to focusing on the fight, by having two skilled fighters attacking he didn’t have the ability to pay attention to his personal feelings. However when he kept his sight on Hack as the priority he’d slipped up and forgotten you. You took the window of opportunity and ducked under Sabo’s arm, your face less than inch from his. Quickly you hooked her arm around his and tucked your foot around his ankle, twisting and knocking him to the ground. You kept a firm hold on Sabo’s wrist and pressed your knee into his back. “Give up sweetie?” you asked innocently, unable to see Sabo’s eyes widen. Before he could respond you were abruptly called for by another Revolutionary to go out on a mission. Pouting you released Sabo and left him and Hack. 

“Please tell me I didn’t imagine that…” Sabo uttered, almost begging Hack. He looked up to see the Fishman grin at him and help him to his feet. 

“No I heard it too. Funny thing is I don’t think they noticed they did it.” Sabo watched your retreating form and brightly smiled. 

“Interesting.”

LUFFY

For the most part Luffy can be considered fairly clueless about a lot of things if they don’t involve his ambition to be King of the Pirates and obtaining the One Piece, doing whatever he wanted and eating all he wished. That included his own deeper feelings at times. However no matter how complex Luffy’s emotions were about certain things he found it easier to break them down into more simplistic views and gain a better understanding about them. He found he had to do that with you and the longer you were part of his crew the more he had to take an inward look at his feelings. So far he was able to discern that he liked you, he liked being around you and it was mutual because you’d been all too eager to join his crew. For the longest time it was simple as that. 

Things however became complicated one night after he and the rest of the crew helped free another town from a corrupt ruler. As always the celebration was a large affair with plenty of food, music and drink. While Luffy wasn’t a drinker and happily indulged in all the food he could get his hands on, you were pulled into a drinking contest with some of the locals along with Nami, Zoro, Franky, and Usopp. You’d managed to hold your own for a respectable amount but when you felt the world being to tilt and your mind grow hazy you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle anymore. 

Staggering from the table you somehow managed to wander to the only spot you knew you’d feel completely safe and content with. You didn’t know how you managed it, call it instinct or sheer will but you stopped beside your Captain and slid down to sit on the soft grass beside him, leaning against his back for support. Luffy looked over his shoulder to grin at you before continuing to eat. “You lost huh?” he laughed before taking a large bite of a meat skewer.

“It’s cheating when Zoro plays.” You grumbled, shifting to get more comfortable against your Captain. “He’s so smug too. Didn’t even wanna win anyway.” You fell into soft laughter with Luffy and then drifted into content silence. Subconsciously Luffy moved while he ate, seamlessly turning so you were leaning against his side and neither of you seemed to even notice the new position.

When morning came and you woke with a hangover and lack of memory you let out a worried groan, hoping that whatever you’d done wasn’t too embarrassing or at the very least you hoped that everyone else was also too drunk to remember too. Wincing you pushed yourself up to see that you were in your own bed. Hazily you tried to force your brain to work and managed to pull out the image of Luffy which made sense, he was your go-to for anything. Knowing he didn’t drink, you knew you could also rely on him for the truth on what you failed to remember. You found Luffy sitting on Sunny’s head just as you knew he’d be but you became worried to see him frowning, deep in thought. “Everything okay Luffy?” you asked, flinching when Luffy’s head swiftly snapped around to look at you intently. 

“No! You’re not allowed to call me that.” Immediately worry and guilt took hold. What had you done? Would he ever forgive you? Oh no, what if it was so bad he’d kick you off of the ship for good. 

“Wh-what do you mean?“ You asked panicked and feeling sick which was not from the hangover. “Whatever I’ve done I’m sorry but I don’t remember. Please tell me what I did wrong. I can fix it.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Luffy’s expression became confused. “I’ve just decided that you can’t call me Luffy anymore I like what you called me last night after I helped you to bed better.” 

“Oh…” you couldn’t tell what you were feeling in that moment exactly. Desperately you tried to think what you called him, silently thankful that whatever it was hadn’t offended him. “Well if you want me to call you that instead you have to remind me.”

“You called me dear.” Luffy grinned while your face reddened.

[servingrobin]

I feel like a feral goblin right now lmao, but I do have a request! How would the monster trio react to finding out their rather new female S/O is a virgin who is scared of sex!? Are they excited? Nervous? Surprised? How are they going to calm her fears? How are they going to see her in this new, fragile light? If you do write this, thank you sosososo much!! 💗💕

Ooooooh I always love inexperienced!reader I think it’s fun to unravel how different characters would behave - I’ve done this as HCs but if any of these spark interest I’ll make a full fic.

S anji, luffy, Zoro

Warnings: fluffy smut, inexperienced!reader, fem reader, possessiveness from Zoro,

✨requests are open✨

Sanji

- this guy already treats you like church stained glass

- You go a little further each time you’re alone, sweet kisses become languid tongue strokes across the roof of your mouth, become heavy hands petting across your body, mapping your soul out with his nimble fingers

- You finally get to the point of removing clothes, and Sanji looks at you with such adoration the first time he sees your bare chest that you can’t help blurting out that you’ve never done this before

- Sanji had a nosebleed

- He felt so honoured that you allowed him to be the one to show you these things

- Constantly asking for your comfort and consent, wants you to be completely open about your nervousness

- Does 100% play into his knight in shining armour fantasies - he wants to be the one to show you how to feel good, kiss it all better and be the standard you set your future experiences against

- Wants you to talk to him at all times, constantly asking “is this okay…does this feel good…. You’re doing so well for me my darling”

- Foreplay is a marathon of eating you out and stretching you open with his fingers

- And Sanji will cum just from that if he’s not focused

- Bringing you pleasure and knowing there’s more to come that you don’t even comprehend yet always gets him going

- Overall a really positive first time, Sanji is sweet and thorough and makes it an extremely pleasurable experience for you

Luffy

- when you stutter and blush and finally confess you have no previous experience, Luffy really does not care at all

- He is most likely in the same boat, whilst he knows about sex and is familiar with his own pleasure, he’s always been very goal orientated and not bothered about a partner before you

- So it’s a learning experience for everyone

- You’re very apprehensive the first time, so nervous about pain and how to make Luffy feel good

- But one look at the man with his head between your legs, comically stretching his tongue into funny faces, and you’re gone

- Extremely fun for both of you

- Your giggles go straight to Luffy’s dick and he makes it his mission to make you cum and laugh at the same time

- Fingers you like it’s a competitive sport, one then two fingers pistoning in and out of you at breakneck speed

- You can only hold on for the ride, grasping tufts of black curl and whining like a professional

- You’ve never felt this overwhelmed in pleasure in your life

- He’s checking on you with every come hither motion against your walls, eyes sparkling with a special mix of both mischief and concern that only Luffy can seem to master

- And right when you reach your precipice, moans garbling into prayer, Luffy will snake his other hand up across your sides

- And this man will tickle

- You tumble into an orgasm with laughter on your lips, the conflicting feelings bringing tears to your eyes as you gasp and groan out, choking on your own cackles

- Luffy is insatiable at the sight of you

- When he finally fucks you Luffy is gentle and sweet, slowly stretching you out and using every ounce of patience to stop from rutting into you like an animal

- But once you give him the go ahead - hold on for dear life

- The most fun and relaxed of the crew

Zoro

- okay so we all know this man is not greatly verbal

- When you admit to him your inexperience, he kind of fumbles it at first

- His silence paralyses you, and it’s not until Zoro hears the hiccups of your imminent tears that he springs into action

- Peppers kisses across your whole face

- “Thank you for telling me….. we never have to go further than you’re comfortable with.”

- And that’s all he really says on the matter

- But damn does Zoro think about it constantly

- There’s a small shameful part of him that bursts for joy at the thought of being your first

- Being the one to ruin your innocence and ruin you for anyone else

- And there’s an even smaller, more shameful part that wants to mark you as his, be the first and last person to spill his seed inside you

- When you’re finally together and alone, having spent a relaxing evening drinking Sake together under the stars, Zoro is silent

- You ask for his thoughts and are surprised when all he does is surge forwards to kiss you

- His hands are everywhere and you’re being consumed by him, your soul merging into a fiery ball of pleasure

- Zoro kisses and sucks every part of your body, nipping his way down and marking his territory as he goes

- You were particularly nervous about Zoro’s ‘size’ and he is comforting, rubbing soothing circles across your hips with the pads of his thumbs as he ever so slowly sinks into you

- Gives you some time to adjust whilst suckling on your nipples, pulling the sweetest sounds from your mouth as you have in to Zoro’s methods of pleasure

- Overall a completely addictive and overwhelming experience

[imagine--if]

══⋆✰* Dating Cha Hyun-Su Includes: *✰⋆══

A/N: In honour of the second season of Sweet Home, this was mandatoryyyy 😁 just started off with some relationship hcs first but feel free to send some imagine or other headcanon requests through my inbox for Sweet Home characters if you're into it! These headcanons cover season one and two. Enjoy reading 🖤

Warnings: Sweet Home series spoilers, mentions of violence

🩸• Starting from the beginning of this monstrous series of events, the most likely way you'll meet Hyun Su is at Green Home a bit before the monster outbreak and apocalypse comes along. All you'll see of the quiet, sullen young man is his weary, unfocused gaze that briefly trails up from the ground to glance up at you in acknowledgement as he bumps into you somehow while moving into his apartment in the complex. The only sign of his interest in you from first looks is his stare lingering for just a beat longer than he'd usually bother... and that's about it. Boy's too shy and broken and tired to feel like he's good enough to do much else, let alone have a shot at even being friends with someone like you, so he'll just admire you from afar every once in a while and leave you to live your life while he despises his.

🩸• HoWeVeRrR-

🩸• The apocalypse unleashes its hell before much else can happen, and before you know it, you two are out surviving in a ruined world riddled with horrifying monsters and mutations, hiding out inside Green Home as you form the group together with the rest and try to fight off the monsters inside the building along with it infecting and warping others into gruesome, inhumane figures.

🩸• This boy's absolutely damaged and drained from all he's been through before moving to Green Home, and so it takes a lot of energy for him to slowly, slowly break out of his shell and reach out to you in return. But he will. He just needs time and patience, and Hyun-Su will find himself making the tiniest amount of small talk when you're together with the rest of the surviving group in the apartment complex. Or, most likely, it'll be him giving you most of his food when you're eating by silently and gently pushing it over to you, no eye contact, no words.

🩸• Before you, he didn't have the slightest will or reason to live, and so the only idea he can think up while dragging himself around the wreck of Green Home along with the rest of the group of survivors is to follow you around and protect you. The way he wants to die is for you, shoving himself into the way of the monster or whatever else the danger is to take him instead. Hyun-Su's absolutely fine with that idea...

🩸• Until he starts falling in loveee- 😏🖤

🩸• Everyone gets used to the sight of this boy following around after you like a moon-eyed puppy, having a tall, slightly dropping shadow trailing behind your own whenever you go somewhere to find food or weapons or whatever you've been sent to find. From Season One, where Lee Eun-Hyuk tries forcing him to do everything and using his monster side as an advantage, if it involves steering clear of you or putting you in any danger, boy's had enough. Hyun-Su will defend himself in his own quiet but intense way, his dark glare bleeding into Eun-Hyuk's with a few mumbling words of a threat before he wanders off to find you again.

🩸• Hyun-Su does consider trying to completely leave you alone, since everyone's aware that he's dangerous with his monster brimming to the surface from inside of him and his other symptoms and dangerous instability being infected, but it feels like the worst form of torture. He's alone again, in a world grimmer than the last, and he has no idea what to do with himself except feel like crying and telling you everything about everything when you sit by him and ask him if he's doing alright.

🩸• I think that this guy would be mega touch-starved after living in isolation for so long after all the bullying and tragedies with his family, so having you as a comforting voice of reason and warmth is something he can't help but melt into after you've been unspoken friends during the apocalypse and doesn't have the fight left in him to reject you if you try to clean bloodstains and patch up his wounds after a nasty confrontation. After that, it's safe to say that out of the whole group of survivors together in Green Home, he'll always be naturally apprehensive and distrusting towards them all, but if it's you that's trying to point something out or is worried about something; let him go get his weapon, he's coming with you.

🩸• His general aim and instinct is to protect good people and be some source of help and comfort that's been so unfamiliar to him personally, but with you, instinct is boosted 10000000% because it's you. You're too good for this world, way too good for him, and if you die, he dies. This concept basically becomes something Hyun Su isn't even fully aware of until the point where you might almost die somehow being confronted by monsters with the others, which is where you'll witness himself having a full-on freak-out in his mind and using all his strength and darker, monstrous side to come out on top to save your life.

🩸• After the danger's gone and you're alone in a quiet room to recover and process what happened, that's all the time you need to make it official, hugging him tightly and thanking him, while Hyun-Su shakily pats your back in return before giving up and hugging you back equally as tightly, staying in a protected embrace as long as time will let you.

🩸• There's so much raw love and trust and protection in a relationship with Hyun-Su, it's unbelievable 😭 he's so clingy and sweet and ridiculously romantic in private with you until you point it out, which results in a blushing red sight and not being able to look you in the eye in bashfulness for about a straight hour before he gets over it. In public, it's still obvious that you're together, with smaller signs of affection and togetherness like holding hands, or doing that coupley thing where you whisper together in the back corners of rooms or give each other brief, subtle looks that say everything you need to understand what it means and where to run or go or something.

🩸• At first, he is a little reluctant to get too close to you because of that lingering fear of accidentally hurting you or his monster side popping out to ruin everything, but with some time and small steps, he'll eventually give up trying to be overly cautious and let him be wholly soothed by you, which was the biggest relief of all for him.

🩸• But just as you're getting properly closer and in touch with each other as romantic partners as well as best friends and survivors in this mess together, his monster alter ego personality will find it the perfect time to mess around with his head and find a way to overpower Hyun-Su, meeting you properly in the process.

🩸• Now, his monster side is a whole other story when it comes to personality, but if you think that means you'll be left alone or hated or something, think AgAiN, and then again, because no :)

🩸• Hyun-Su's monstrous side is darker, daring, dangerous, and with you, madly possessive and protective. I mean, he won't even try to hold himself back from taking things to extremes and spilling as much blood as necessary if he gets a weird vibe from someone around you, or if someone outrightly tries to attack you. Even if it's a monster like him, there's enough threat in thrashing them through a few solid walls and leaving some biting words behind before stalking off.

🩸• Monster Hyun-Su's a massive starer by the way, so those unnervingly blue eyes are going to be a sight you'll have to get used to, like literal inches away from your face when you wake up, studying you for wounds, or just studying you in general. There's something about you that's just so fascinating to him, and this side of him literally does not know what boundaries are, so he's all up in your face studying you in curiosity with a soft but dark smirk on his face, while you're just "😐"

🩸• Kind of gross but Monster Hyun-Su has the weirdest affection ever. Like, he enjoys feeding you when you're hungry, mostly questionably bloody-looking things until you get it in his head that you're not Hannibal Lecter and just want a breakfast bar or something 😭 and when this guy goes to hug you, it'll be ridiculously tight, sometimes his wing breaking out of its shell to wrap over you, which is kind of sweet. Until he goes to kiss you and it's not a kiss at all, it's more him living up to his monstrous reputation by licking at your skin like some kind of dog until you squeal and push him away, which he always finds hilarious. Meanwhile, normal Hyun-Su's mortified 😂

🩸• Normal Hyun-Su and Monstrous will most likely make an agreement between them to make sure you're kept alive and as unharmed as possible, protect you from any sort of danger, so if you thought you had a shadow following after you before the split between them, you've got a much more threatening one now, so it'd be very hard for much damage to come to you at all. And good luck if you want some time alone to wander and think by yourself, because if he doesn't straight-up follow you out with no buts like usual, he'll be watching you somewhere close at all times.

🩸• I feel like Hyun-Su's monstrous side would find it funny to make you jump, like falling down out of nowhere from a building or something right in front of you when you thought you were alone or something stupid like that. You'll give him an annoyed glare of protest, and he'll just smirk smugly and teasingly with a fake-innocent shrug of "something wrong?"

🩸• To sum up the whole. predicament you've gotten yourself into here, falling in love with Hyun-Su would pretty much protect you from ninety per cent of the apocalyptic mess of the world while being showered with all the lost love and affection and longing he thought were dead along with all the rest of his hopes and energy from the beginning. And then to keep you on your toes, you've got the monstrosity inside of his head coming out at random moments to obsess over you before Hyun-Su can come back to reality again. But whoever's at the surface, and wherever you two are, he'll always, always be there watching you and with you, one way or another.

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “mix of random dialogue and non-dialogue, smut and non-smut” prompts

“I’m a mess because of you.” “You’re my mess.” “I’m… I’m your mess.” (FUCKING HELLO BITCH DO NOT- WLKFNFKLN I’ll get on my knees for you, my love—)

“That’s my baby girl/baby boy.” (Can he just— HEWOQKNFWKELNF) 

“You look so hot like that.”

“God, you turn me on so much.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna come—” Character B whimpers, hips bucking into Character A’s. “Mm, yeah? Then come for me,” Character A murmurs, stroking their fingers through Character B’s hair. (The noises he made as he came undone were SO FUCKING HOT BYE. those WHIMPERS?? FUCKING DELICIOUSSSSS LET ME HEAR MORE OF THEM, I BEG- ALSO WHO KNEW I HAD IT IN ME TO SAY THAT TO SOMEONE LMFAO, “then come for me” WQBHRELWJKNEWF BITCH. GET OUTTT-)

Those sweet little noises Character B tries so hard to suppress but is unable to as they come undone.

“I’m such a fucking wreck right now…”

“Imagine how good I’d feel inside of you.” (FUCKIFKSKSKKSKSKS WHEN HE SAID THAT AND I WAS LIKE LKENFKLEWNF-)

“I love you so much,” Character B murmurs, hugging Character A closer to them. (🥹🥹🥹 HE SAID IT HE SAID IT HE SAID ITTT 😭 He’s said it over text before but now it’s in person and I’m actually gonna WEEP EWKLNFWEEFN)

“I love you for you, and I’m going to continue to love you. I’ll always love and support you no matter what,” Character B reassures after Character A spills out their anxieties and worries to them about a situation they’ve been so, so scared to tell them about; scared of how Character B would react. (…I’m just going to say I love this man so much.) 

“When I first met you, I didn’t know you were like this,” Character A murmurs, slowly grinding their hips down against Character B’s. Character B grins up at them, hands wrapped around their thighs, squeezing gently. “Yeah, and I didn’t know I was like this, either. And I thought you were shy when I first met you... Now look at you, huh?” 

Character A not knowing how sensitive their breasts are until Character B pays full attention to them with their mouth. (…I WILL NOT SAY ANYTHING ELSE BUT FUCK YES—) 

Character A tearing up as they try to be vulnerable with Character B, and Character B reassuring them by telling them they can take their time and it’s okay if they can’t say it right now; that they can say it when they’re ready. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so enamoured by someone,” Character A murmurs, caressing Character B’s face. (I’M A POETIC SIMP, WHAT CAN I SAY—) 

“Fuck, why are you— Mmh— why are you doing this to me?”

“We can take things as slow as you want. I want you to be comfortable, and as long as you’re happy, then I’m happy.”  (PLEASE WJDJJS IM CRYING AHH, how’d I get someone so sweet sjkdms)

“We can rent a hotel somewhere… You can be as loud as you want then, hm?” (HE’S JUST FUCKING OUT HERE, YOUR HONOUR!!) 

“Fuck me,” Character A whimpers as Character B’s hips picks up with speed. “I could if you wanted me to,” Character B grunts. (SIR- FUCK OFF ISTFGGG)

Character B placing their hand on Character A’s thigh while they’re sitting down.

Character B wrapping their arm around Character A’s shoulders and pulling them closer to them, letting Character A rest their head on their shoulder.

Character B leaning in for a kiss and Character A shyly leaning in to give them a quick peck on the lips. 

“Whatever I do, I’ll always be adorable to you, won’t I? Even if I do the most heinous shit known to mankind—” “Yes. Yes, you’ll always be adorable to me.” 

“You sure you don’t wanna close the blinds? People outside could see us…” “Trust me, they won’t.” (this FUCKING GUY, but I guess he wasn’t wrong after I took a closer look at the blinds—) 

“You’re enjoying yourself up there, aren’t you?” Character B teases, watching through hooded lids as Character A rides them while clothed. “Does it look like I am?” Character A questions, breathless. 

“You just… You make me happy.” (YOU DO TOO, MY LOVE <333) 

“You’ve always been so caring and supportive of me so I don’t know why I doubted you… I’m sorry.” 

Character A being ticklish on their neck whenever Character B plants soft feather like kisses there, so Character B plants even more soft kisses there, turning Character A into a giggling mess. 

Kisses on the eyelids. (The softest shit EVER)

“Didn’t realise your objective was to get into my pants all this time,” Character B teases, and Character A rolls their eyes, a breathless laugh leaving them. “You know that’s not true. I think you’re the one who has the objective of getting into my pants,” Character A throws back. Character B shakes their head with a chuckle. “That’s not true.”

“How are we gonna manage being away from each other for a whole month?” Character A murmurs softly. “Mmmh, we’ll somehow manage,” Character B reassures, stroking their fingers through Character A’s hair.

“How are you going to manage without this for a whole month?” Character B questions as Character A grinds down on them. “I don’t think I fucking will is the thing,” Character A admits, unabashedly.

Character B moving Character A’s hair out of their face to plant gentle kisses on their face.

Character B laying their head on Character A’s stomach and Character A fondly saying to them, “You’re such a baby,” while carding their fingers through their hair.

Character B snuggling up next to Character A, post-orgasm. (SIRRRR- PEHFLKEWNELKWNF) 

Character A moaning Character B’s name and Character B losing their self-restraint over it. (Maybe I did it on purpose to turn him on—)  

[satinroses]

how Yan! harbingers would react to you cheating (separate)

Gn! Reader

A/N: i regret to inform you but there’s no Pulcinella, Pierro, Arlecchino or Sandrone :[ i’m sorry i just don’t know their charas well enough yet/i don’t feel qualified to guess (i haven’t finished fontaine archon quest yet :0) also im sorry scara's is so long... hes my fav :]

Warnings: dark content ahead, if you aren’t comfortable with dark themes please don’t read!! delusions, infantilisation, minor character death, torture, THINLY veiled threats, explicit violence, obsessive behaviour, murder, vaguely implied non-con, financial manipulation

Capitano:

Throughout all the harbingers Il Capitano was the sole member who adhered to a strict code of honour. Despite his obsession with you he had always tried to treat you with chivalry and honour - even if his heart desperately lusted for him to steal you away for himself. It was well known among his fellow harbingers just how deeply Capitano idolises his beloved spouse, seeing you as his own personal beacon of light.

Naturally when the news reaches his ears he refuses to believe such vile insults being levied against you. Instead he has the rumour monger brought towards him so that he may personally administer a punishment for daring to speak against his beloved.

Capitano refuses to believe you would betray him in such a matter unless you decide to tell him yourself or he catches you in the act. He would need a moment to collect himself, his mind racing with thousands of different explanations and reasons. He had never once raised a hand towards you, he brought you gifts from his travels around Teyvat, he never allowed anyone to speak against you and yet you still betrayed him… Then he realises - clearly your supposed ‘lover’ has led you astray. That’s the only logical explanation. That filthy low life had whispered honeyed lies in your ear and in your naivety you had believed them. That wretch has sullied your honour and as your spouse it's his solemn duty to shield you from such vile brutes.

When someone as sweet and virtuous as you exists within such a tainted land it’s only natural that greedy grasping hands will try to stray you away from Il Capitano’s benevolent gaze. It’s not your fault. You clearly didn’t know better. He should have held you much closer to his chest. This was all his own fault.

Alas he cannot turn back time but he can ensure justice is fulfilled. He won't allow the miscreant that sullied his beloved’s honour to parade about without any consequences, so he does as any respectable man would and challenges your new lover to a duel for your honour.

When the first harbinger challenges a man to a duel it’s commonly regarded to be a death sentence and this is no different. Capitano truly tells himself that he is doing this entirely for your own good but the rage in the way his claymore swings down on your beloved’s head tells an entirely different story. Capitano had killed the man with the first swing of his claymore yet the blows kept raining down upon their body until all that remained was a pulverised mass of flesh. Capitano hadn’t killed them, he had butchered them. It’s clear this duel was not as selfless as he would lead you to believe. Despite his vehement denial, this was not for your honour but rather for his own twisted vengeance.

Tears stream softly down your cheeks as you watch Capitano slaughter your lover but once the fight is over he rushes over to you. His hands cup your face as he shushes you gently, cradling you softly as he tucks your head into his chest. Because of his penchant for darker clothing you couldn’t see your lover’s blood staining him but as your face was buried against Capitano’s chest you could feel the crimson ichor staining your face as you inhaled the coppery scent.

Childe:

Tartaglia relished in challenges, exhilarated by new chances to prove his strength and test his power yet somehow this new obstacle was not as enjoyable as he might have predicted - perhaps because he now realised he was losing. All those dreams of marrying you, raising children with you, growing old together felt like mere delusions when he realised that your heart now lies with another.

Tartaglia is commonly regarded as one of the more level headed harbingers, sure he had an inhumane amount of strength and the combat prowess to match yet that was a given to climb as high in the Fatui as he had. In spite of his usual friendly demeanour Tartaglia felt a bitter emotion brewing in his heart. 

Upon learning of your infidelity the eleventh harbinger can’t help but laugh. He truly believed everything had been going so well between you two - I mean sure sometimes he got a little possessive and maybe his feelings for you were so intense he felt like they were going to burst out of his chest, splitting him clean open - but he was human! He had flaws too! He just couldn’t understand what this other guy possibly had. Well it’s not like he’ll need to either.

Tartaglia sets down his bow, instead settling on a blade. He wouldn’t use half his strength to murder the rival for your affections, besides he wanted this fight to be close and personal. He wanted them to see him coming.

He marches straight for your lover, challenging them for your hand in a public setting so they can’t help but feel honorbound to accept. He makes an entire spectacle out of the duel and he ensures you’re there too so you can see just how utterly pathetic and out-classed your supposed lover is, so you can realise he is clearly the better choice. Ultimately your lover stands little chance against the mighty harbinger, struck down with unmatched brutality, the glint in Tartaglia’s eye showing just how much he’s enjoying massacring his rival.

He looks confused when he looks aside from the bloodied corpse left behind to see you struggling against the two Fatui agents restraining you to keep you from interfering with their master’s duel.  “Why are you upset? You were clearly conflicted between us but now your pretty little head doesn’t have to worry about it! You couldn’t decide so I decided for you.” he says before leaning in closer, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispers “and if you ever feel conflicted again, come straight to me and I'll be sure to decide for you again.”

Columbina:

You had always felt… unnerved by Columbina. She was always so delicate with you, caressing your hair sweetly, holding you tenderly, brushing soft kisses against your lips and cheeks and yet - something about her felt off, unnatural even. There was something about her that was not entirely human and perhaps that’s what led you to seek comfort in the arms of another. 

When you decided to tell her of this you had expected the saccharine facade to melt, to be met with the monstrosity you feared was hiding behind her angelic demeanour. Instead she simply smiled gently, almost knowingly. Her grin never once falters when she arises from her spot on the floor, patting your head as she skips out the door of the room. You stand in the foyer utterly perplexed by her behaviour but terrified she might inflict her wrath upon you if you lingered. You ran back upstairs to your own chambers, your head buried beneath the blankets as you tried to steady your breathing. You stayed there until the sun began to rise, having half expected Columbina to creep into your bedroom in the night and inflict some bloody vengeance on you. Instead the morning came without incident.

You crept down to the dining room where breakfast was being laid out by the maids. It was utterly silent and Columbina still hadn’t arrived with the only noise being the gentle clattering of porcelain and your own breathing as the table was set. There sat the morning paper in your usual spot, you didn’t feel inclined to read, far too on edge about Columbina’s surprisingly docile reaction to your infidelity. You were about to move the paper aside entirely until your eyes brushed across the headline

“12 FOUND DEAD LAST NIGHT: AUTHORITIES PERPLEXED”

You all but collapsed into your chair as you opened the paper. Vomit bubbling up your throat as you continue reading. 12 people of similar physical appearances were found slaughtered in their homes with no signs of breaking and entering, no witnesses and no sign of a struggle. It's likely the victims hadn’t even known their assailant was in the room until they were already dead. A terrifying tale no doubt but what truly unnerved you was the very clear resemblance the victims held to you. From skin colour, to hair colour, to eye colour, height and weight, you and the victims were near identical with only minimal differences. You couldn’t breathe. Your heart was hammering so violently you swore you could feel it against your very ribcage. They didn't even know their attacker had entered the room until they were already dead… how did you know that she hadn’t crept into your room last night, standing there, deciding whether she would do it or not…

Hot tears welled in your eyes as you heard the soft patter of bare feet wander into the dining room. She sat down in the seat directly across from you, still beaming at you. This smile was different however, her grin was tight against her face and very clearly forced, far too big to look natural on the woman. This smile was not a smile, it was a warning.

Il Dottore:

Quite possibly the worst outcome for both you and your lover. Il dottore is not a man to be trifled with, even his fellow harbingers could acknowledge that. You don't even need to tell him about your affair, he already knew. He could tell from the way you shied away from his touch, how easily startled you were nowadays, how your pupils dilated and breath quickened when you stared at your new beau. 

However Il Dottore is an eternally proud man, his genius and academic revelations had single handedly transformed Snezhnaya into the Military power house of Teyvat. By turning to another for love and affection you had inadvertently snubbed the second harbinger and by your new lover daring to set their sights on something that so clearly belonged to Il Dottore… he wouldn’t accept it.

Dottore’s cruelty was almost as revered as his genius. To think someone had tried to steal away the affections of the one person he found worthy enough to love. Your lover will suffer a fate worse than death, that much is certain. Dottore is never against fresh meat to experiment on, perhaps he’ll see how many parts the human body can lose before dying, or maybe he’ll discover just how much skin he can flay off a man until he eventually dies. Don’t worry Dottore has always strove for perfection in all matters, particularly academic endeavours. He will find a way to keep your lover alive through his experiments for as long as humanly possible if only to ensure his results are accurate.

Now the moment he hears of your affair his mind is rife with ideas for your lover yet don't worry, he has plenty of ideas left for you too. From here on out you will never be without one of his segments watching over you. He will have constant eyes on you. You will never know a moment of freedom from Il Dottore but please don't fret my love, in his cold, twisted heart he does have a soft spot even if you refuse to believe it, so go ahead and dry your tears and be his agreeable little darling again or else he may leave you in the care of some of his other segments who are much less knowledgeable on how to love, on how to be tender with their darling and are far more inclined to simply take what they want rather than ask nicely.

If you still haven’t begun to return to doting upon him, or worse you take another lover… lets just say some of the younger segments have several questions about human biology that even the ingenious Il Dottore would struggle to answer without an example. So shape up or you might wake up strapped to his operating table so his segments can get a good look at how the interior of the human body functions and well… while he’s already gone to the trouble of cutting you open, wouldn't it be a shame if his name just so happened to be carved onto your heart. Don't worry! for that procedure, he'll give you some anaesthesia. After all, he doesn't want your squirming to make him hit anything important.

La Signora:

La Signora has lost and loved before she met you. After her husband's death she encased herself within an icy shell but whether intentionally or not you warmed her bleak broken heart and returned her fire and passion for life. With you she was Rosalyne not the crimson witch and for that she treasured and adored you above all else. 

Rosalyne was all too familiar with the sting of losing a loved one but she had never had her lover willingly stray from her side. To know you would leave her after all she did for you? That you would betray her after she protected you time and time again, sheltered you from the cruel realities of this world and let you live in the lap of luxury… it was clear she had spoiled you far too much.

First she would start with the wretch who dared compete with her for your affections. She plucks his heart out as she did to that pathetic Anemo archon before charring it before his very eyes. Let his last sight be his own scorched heart falling from her hands and into the dust, where filth like him deserved to stay. To think he even thought he could compare with the illustrious 8th harbinger for your love… the wretched fool deserved far worse than what she gave him. Now that she thought of the man again, she could feel the crimson flame in her chest rising as she turned back to the man's twitching corpse. They’d be lucky if even ashes remained once she was done venting her rage on what was left of the man.

As for the matter of punishing her beloved… La Signora had always been a firm woman but for the sake of you and your happiness she had given you certain allowances and privileges such as walks in the garden, visiting Snezhnayan boutiques with her, having your favourite treats imported. That stops now. In her 500 years of life her ire had never once been turned towards you but now, with such a blatant betrayal… even her patience can run out. Perhaps a more permanent reminder of your status as hers is needed. How about we start with searing her name into your flesh with her flame?

Pantalone:

Having grown up in absolute poverty, Pantalone had fought tooth and nail for everything he had, crawling from the slums of Liyue to the very apex of the Tsaritsa’s court was no small feat. The thing is when growing up in poverty one quickly learns to cling onto what they value so it was no surprise that upon falling in love for the first time Pantalone was quick to assert himself into every aspect of your life. He wouldn’t be able to rest easily unless he knew for absolute certain that you were firmly grasped within the palm of his hand.

You were his most prized possession. So when he got news that someone else had spirited away your affections he was filled with the same raw, red hatred he had felt as a boy. The feeling of seeing another have what you rightfully deserve. Since he was a boy he had vowed that whenever someone took something from him he would reap the value of it tenfold. Upon learning of your infidelity you are immediately confined to his estate, all exits heavily guarded by Fatui agents. He encages you within his elaborate mansion not even allowing you to wander into the illustrious gardens. Each door is bolted and every curtain drawn tight as Pantalone refuses to allow the outside world to gain even a passing glance of his darling. The people outside clearly don't understand how to stay away from what is not theirs.

Don’t fear precious one, he doesn’t hold this against you… you’ve always been so weak willed, so vulnerable. It’s no surprise that sooner or later some brute would come and take advantage of your delicate demeanour. It’s really his own failing as a husband but don’t worry, you don’t climb as high as he has without learning from your mistakes and he will make certain that there will never be a repeat of this little incident. From here on out you will be kept firmly in his grasp. No one will see or speak to you without his explicit permission.

If you thought his gift giving was rather excessive before, now it's become suffocating. You're drowning in trinkets and presents. Everyday you're presented with rare delicacies, decorated with precious gems from head to toe and dressed in the finest silk garments imported all across Teyvat with his particular preferences in mind. He will do whatever it takes to keep you with him even if he has to clasp your hands in solid gold shackles to keep you close or weigh your pockets down with rubies and sapphires to keep his little treasure from flying away.

Oh don't worry he hasn't forgotten about that pesky little ‘lover’ of yours. Within an hour of learning of your infidelity Pantalone has the man’s full name, medical records, ancestry and blood type sitting in his hands. You’d be surprised at how eager people are to get in the good graces of the head of the Northland bank and the ninth harbinger. Your affair partner has been blacklisted from almost any job and anywhere that does hire him is immediately bought out or its owner suddenly has Fatui knocking on their door demanding exorbitant amounts of money in “debts” to the Northland bank. Your lover will be financially ruined, any family or friends who try to reach out and support him will similarly be suddenly met with financial ruin. Only once Pantalone has stripped every part of joy from your lover’s life and isolated them from all they love will he be finally satisfied to send them off to Dottore as a little present, after all the Doctor is always enthused by new test subjects.

Scaramouche:

Scaramouche is a naturally covetous man, even in normal circumstances he is undoubtedly the most possessive of the Harbingers. Everyone he has ever treasured has slipped through his fingers, now that he once again feels love he refuses to allow it slide through his grasp again.

Scaramouche would already keep you primarily confined to his estate with only very rare outings. On the occasions he is summoned to the tsaritsa’s side he makes sure to have several handmaidens and guards watching over you and If he must travel from his residence in Snezhnaya he will take you with him for fear of you falling ill or fleeing while he is away but even then you’re confined either to your carriage or the bedroom where Scaramouche is staying.

Despite his confident and cruel demeanour Scaramouche is a deeply insecure man who truly believes himself to be unworthy of your love however he cannot help himself from craving your sweet affections and doting all for himself. He dresses you in identical colours as himself, he hand paints his signature red eyeliner under your eyes every day, he ensures you smell of his favourite things and that you are dressed in traditional Inazuman fashions.

If you somehow managed to cheat on him Scaramouche would go utterly ballistic. You thought you had seen the sixth harbinger angry but the outburst you had seen couldn’t even compare to the tempest he would unleash upon you or any other person who dared to seek your affections. His estate would be a mess, shattered vases, broken chairs, torn clothing thrown about the rooms. Nothing survived his enraged outburst as curses and insults were thrown towards the man who dared steal away his beloved’s affection and adoration.

Scaramouche was restrictive before but now its unbearable. When he returns home after hearing the news he finds you waiting by the door for him, bowing politely as he had commanded you but instead of greeting you with a kiss or throwing off his elaborate hat he instead practically leaps towards you, his hand enclosing around your throat bringing your face to his as he hisses out

“You ungrateful whore. Do you really think I don't know about you and them? Did you really think you could hide it?”

He watches for a moment as your eyes widen as you realise what he's insinuating: he knows about your infidelity. Your eyes instantly flood with hot tears as you realise the torment that's about to be inflicted upon you. Unlike usual he takes no amusement in your distress, too overcome with the conflicting emotions bubbling inside him to even focus on how pretty you look with tears in your eyes.

His grip moves from your throat to your hair as he threads his fingers in it to grab you by the scalp before he drags you up the staircase of his estate. Too overcome with terror to be able to walk properly instead you allow him to drag you along by the hair as your trembling legs attempt to hobble after him. 

Upon reaching your chambers he throws you down on the ground. You try not to take notice of the clump of your hair entwined in his fingers. Instead of punishing you however he instead turns back around, not even sparing you a glance as he storms out of the room, slamming the doors shut behind him. You lay splayed on the floor as he left you cradling your aching scalp as you wait for him to return with some device manufactured to inflict as much pain as possible.

Scaramouche does not return for many hours. It isn’t until the moon is high in the sky that the bedroom door opens and you see the balladeer return. The room fills with the coppery scent of blood, you’re certain if you had a lamp on you would see Scaramouche painted crimson. After several seconds of simply staring at your form the balladeer finally approaches you. Your whole body tenses as he bends down to lay himself on top of you, his head burrowed in your neck… was he about to rip your throat out with his very teeth? He could probably feel how hard your pulse was hammering under his cheek.

You waited for pain but it never came. Instead you felt the harbinger begin to softly shake, gentle sniffles being buried in your neck as his whole body curled in closer to yours. Your neck grows damp as Scaramouche tightens one arm around your waist and the other behind your head as he straddles your lying form. He uses his arm positions to pull you even closer to himself, his grip is verging on pain as he pushes your bodies together like he’s attempting to merge you together, to ensure you could never stray from his side. You half think you’ve imagined it when you hear the harbinger whisper in a hoarse tone

“Why can't you just love me?”

Maybe it was a sense of pity or you simply wanted him to calm down and get off you but regardless you wrapped your arms around him, cradling him softly. The harbinger’s cries ceased for a moment and you thought perhaps you had somehow managed to ignite his rage again but instead his shoulders began to shake violently as the intensity of his sobs picked up, wails coming out of him like a wounded animal as he clutched you close to him. 

Only as the sun began to rise did Scaramouche manage to clamber out of your embrace, staggering out of the room. You stayed on the ground for another hour, trying to ignore the tacky, dried blood encrusted on your kimono. You changed your kimono before going downstairs for breakfast, hoping to gain an understanding of Scaramouche's mood, however as you went to push the doors open they wouldn’t budge an inch. He had locked the door tight behind him.

[zaldritzosrose]

Sanguine Obsession (Vampire!Aemond x Human!Reader)

Before I got into my usual summary, this fic is part of a collab with a bunch of my lovely moots! @lady-phasma came to us with an ask about period sex and Daemon and being as lovely as she is, she offered us all the chance to collab on it. Choosing our own characters and how to play the story.

Please find the masterlist of everyone's fics here.

All boards included are made by yours truly!

Summary: The Targaryens are well known for their supernatural existence, and you are one of many brought into the service of Prince Aemond - a vampire. When you moon's blood surprises you, the Prince acts in a way you could never have expected.

TW: MINORS DNI, she/her pronouns, afab reader, mentions of vampiric feeding, mentions of blood, menophilia (period kink), oral (fem receiving), p in v sex, Aemond as a vampire (could be a warning in and of itself), period sex.

Words: 3088

Serving Prince Aemond Targaryen was an honour, to you and your family at least. On the outside, the Targaryens were ordinary royals, save for the dragon riding, of course.

But there was something deeper and darker within the family. Like a dark shadow that hung over the Red Keep, an apt name for the home of supernatural beings. The Targaryens had ruled through blood and immortality for centuries, and you were not the first to serve the One-Eyed Prince. Not all the dragon-blooded royals were vampiric, though each one of them was not entirely human.

The call had come just less than a month ago. A letter bearing the seal of House Targaryen arriving to your father. Though it was phrased as a question, it was clear there was only one answer to the request.

We request your eldest daughter to serve at the side of Prince Aemond, as have many that have come before her. She will be well cared for and protected whilst in the Prince’s service.

Your father had not hesitated. Informing you immediately that preparations were to be made for your travel to the capital.

Now, it was almost two full months since you had arrived at the Keep. Prince Aemond was stoic, but not unkind. In fact, you had soon found his presence an odd comfort. Sitting with him in the library as he read, fetching whichever book he needed. Watching him train under the shadow of the evening, becoming his most fervent supporter every time.

You had known what the Targaryens were before you came into the Prince’s service. Every citizen in Westeros knew, it was not a secret they kept hidden. The family mostly kept stores of blood within the Keep, preferring the convenience of it over hunting. Others, however, chose to hunt, choosing their prey and hunting ground carefully to avoid large populations.

Prince Aemond was the latter. Choosing to hunt wherever he could but there was one task he had never forced upon you. There were times when the Prince was unable to hunt, and he always seemed dissatisfied with drinking stored blood from a goblet. He never said it openly, but the prince enjoyed the chase, the feeling of bringing down his prey and feeding fresh.

In those times, you could see the war in him. When he would look at you with a hunger, or more specifically your throat. Watching the pulse of your veins when you would lean close to hand him his next cup. And eventually, you had picked up the courage to ask.

“My prince, if there is something else you need of me, please say?” you had asked softly, trying to keep your nerve.

Aemond had only hummed low, a sound you were so used to hearing, but you knew he was avoiding answering you.

You had knelt at his side, hands resting on the arm of his chair.

“Please, I feel I know what it is you need. You have not been able to hunt for weeks…”

That had been the push he had needed. From then on, when he could not hunt, he would ask to feed from you. And you agreed, every time. Finding yourself often curled in the Prince’s lap as he sank his teeth into your flesh and drank his fill. He was always gentle during these times, the way he would hold you as he fed bordering on romance. Always in his embrace, bodies pressed impossibly close.

Even the Prince would eventually admit, you were the first of his servants that had ever offered their blood to him, an act that had both shocked and enamoured him to you. But he had never admitted that this act of service had, without a doubt, furthered the desire he had felt the moment he saw you.

For the first month of your service, you had managed to avoid the Prince during your moon’s blood. Seemingly coinciding with his hunting routine. His mother and sister had helped you stay out of his presence by claiming to need you for other tasks. He had never questioned it, with his mother explaining that he knew the reason, and understood why they took such measures.

This month, however, you were unprepared. The Queen and the Princess were visiting their Hightower kin in Oldtown. There was no one around to help you with the unexpected surprise. You tried your best to complete your tasks for the Prince while spending as little time in his presence as possible. Something he noticed immediately.

Every morning you would hide spare smallclothes within your gown, knowing that at any point in the day you might need them. Taking extra rags from the Maester to make sure you did not risk leaving the blood-stained cloth on your body too long.

But what you did not know was that Aemond had noticed. In reality, he could smell it days before you bled. A small change in scent that told him what was to come. He did his best, this time, to ignore it. Knowing you had no choice but to remain at his side. He was not due to hunt for another two days. But the scent of you was becoming more and more tempting.

It all came to a head when you did not appear in the library that morning. Aemond always read during the daytime, the library drapes heavy enough to block out all the sunlight. He gave you a little time, knowing from his books that a woman’s bloods could take a toll physically and he knew better than to expect you to ignore your own health for his sake.

But when another hour passed, he felt concern gnawing at him. Closing his book, Aemond made quick work of the walk to your chambers. He had not even reached the door before he could smell it.

The coppery scent filling his nostrils and making his mouth water. He stood stock still at your door, his thirst begging him to enter and take his fill. But his concern for you demanded he find a way to fix whatever had made you late.

“My lady?” was all he could muster, his hand resting on the handle.

Inside, you froze. That morning you had woken to what could only be described as a bloodbath. The deep red liquid having stained your sheets and nightgown through the night. Cleaning up the aftermath was taking far longer than you expected.

“M-My Prince, I…Please do not come in,” Your voice was frantic as you folded the soiled sheets and stuffed them into the sack you would take down to the washroom.

Just the tone of your voice had Aemond even more concerned. The need for politeness soon lost to his concern as he pushed the door open despite your protests. When he entered, the scent near overtook him. And not just the blood. A smell akin to fear on you.”

“I…” You could not form a single word. There seemed to be no connection between your mind and your mouth.

Aemond’s jaw locked tight, doing everything he could not to inhale if he did not need to. His eye scanned the room. The scent lingered at the sack by the door, which he assumed held your sheets. But the copper tang was greatest around you, and he could see the scrubbed spots where you had tried to clean your stained skin.

“You are…bleeding.” He said, barely forming it as a question, his voice tight with restraint.

You could see the faint push of his fangs against his lip as he spoke. A sight you only saw moments before he would feed from you. In this moment, it was the first time you seemed to fear him.

“I apologise…I..I tried to clean it but…”

The words died on your lips when you saw Aemond staring only at your stained nightdress. The memory of your conversation with his mother ringing in your mind.

“One thing you must know, my dear, your moon’s blood will smell far different to the blood that flows in your veins. It will be much more intense of a scent. More enticing,” the Queen explained before continuing on with the plans they had in place to help female servants of the family during that time of the month.

Now, it all made sense. You had never seen Aemond like this, except when his teeth were pierced deep into your neck, or any other flesh he had chosen for a feed. Yet, you still felt no true fear. Nothing about the Prince had ever caused that feeling in you.

Aemond however, had no thought in his mind except your scent. The deep red that stained your skin. The points of his fangs almost piercing his teeth in preparation of drinking.

“Is this why you were late this morning?” he asked, his eye finally meeting yours, the pupil blown wide, eclipsing the ice blue of his iris. All the air left your lungs and your hesitation seemed to frustrate him.

“Answer me,” he growled, taking a purposeful step towards you.

“Yes, my prince. It was unexpected, and I could not leave behind such a mess and there was no time to clean...”

You were stopped short when Aemond closed the distance between you. You would often forget he was not human, but the speed at which he appeared in front of you abruptly reminded you of it. You held your breath as his head dipped to press his nose against your neck. You could feel the puffs of air on your neck as he seemed to fight himself for control.

“I could smell it. Every moment for the last three days…”

The curve of his nose pressed against your neck, nuzzling over the spot he had bit you so many times before. And you could not hide your shiver as he growled again.

“You smell so sweet…”

You wanted to move, to back away and put as much space between you and the Prince as you could. But your body was working against you. Instead, leaning closer into his form as he breathed you in again.

It was only when you whimpered as the sharp, cramping pain in your lower body reared itself again, that Aemond snapped out of his reverie.

“It hurts, does it not?” he asked, and you could only nod, feeling Aemond smile against the skin of your neck. His entire presence was intoxicating, and every ounce of self-preservation had long left you.

“There are ways to relieve the pain. I read about them, fascinating really,” he mused, and you opened your mouth to ask what he could possibly mean.

You had an inkling, having read some books yourself. And the implication of what he was referring to had your heart hammering in your chest.

Aemond’s arm snaked around your waist and pulled you flush against his chest. The bloodthirst inside him threatened to take over with every second he was close to you. You were almost hypnotised by him, wondering if this is how his victims felt when he hunted them down. Hazy, drawn into his embrace without any control of their actions.

Your silence made him chuckle, and he could already smell not only the blood but the slick that pooled between your thighs at his touch.

“Do you want me to help, sweet girl?” Aemond whispered, his lips now brushing against the skin of your ear.

You nodded gently but that was not enough for him.

“Words, I need your words,” His tone now a little more of a command than before.

You swallowed loud before answering, your voice barely more than a breathy sigh.

“Yes, my prince.”

That was all he needed. His hands were surprisingly gentle as he walked you back towards your bed. The sheets had been hastily changed moments before Aemond had entered your room, but that seemed to matter little.

Aemond made quick work of your nightdress, making your breath hitch when he pressed his nose into the sanguine stains. And the groan he released at the heady scent had your thighs clenching together. The dress was quickly discarded as Aemond returned his attention to you.

It was only then that you became quickly aware that you were entirely bare whilst Aemond was still fully clothed. Before you could even reach out for the clasps on his leather tunic, Aemond had the garment tugged open and on the floor, leaving him in only his light shirt and breeches. It was not the first time you had seen him dressed more casually, there were times you would enter his chamber of a morning or after he had trained to see him dressed quiet casually.

But this, without a doubt, was different.

“The books say,” Aemond began, using some of his vampiric strength to move you with ease up the bed, “that finding your release helps with the pain of a moon’s blood…”

You bit back a moan as he spread your thighs, the coolness of his skin quickly soothing the warmth in your body that was always brought on by your monthly bleed. Aemond hummed to himself as the full scent of you was revealed to him, his mouth watering as he saw the sticky trails of your bleed on the skin of your thighs and the flesh of your core.

“My prince…” you whined, not really sure anymore what you were asking for.

You wanted to hide yourself from his gaze, feeling like prey trapped in the claws of a predator, that singular blue iris staring you down as he took a deep inhale. Just his closeness was enough to distract you from the dull ache of the muscles in your hips and down. Aemond, on the other hand, was drunk on your scent alone, the sweet, metallic tang filling his nostrils and making his head spin.

You gasped at the cool touch of his fingers against your slit, tensing as he dipped an experimental finger in between your folds. Taking his time and letting your body relax into the intrusion. It went against everything he was to not devour you there and then. His mouth watering the closer he got.

His fingers pushed inside you slowly, his eye staring intently as the mix of your blood and slick pooled around his fingers with each movement. Aemond could already feel you relaxing, the muscles in your thighs already less tense on either side of his head.

But he needed more. The beast within crying out for a taste. Warring with the human need to bring you as much pleasure as he could. He had always found you beautiful and the dutiful way you served him was simply an extra boon.

“Will you allow me a taste, sweet girl? Let me bring us both satisfaction?”

His voice was so low and so smooth it had you sighing out in pleasure. Your hips already canting themselves closer to him.

“Yes, please,” you said softly, eyes already closing as Aemond’s fingers trailed small patterns either side of where you needed him most. Never close to where you needed him.

His eye found yours, and the look told you that he needed something else.

“My…my prince please, I need it...I need you…” you begged, the only thought in your head now was feeling him.

You felt him smirk against your skin as his title fell from your lips. He could get used to hearing it that way, so soft and breathy with pleasure.

You had anticipated either the return of his fingers or even the feel of his tongue. Instead, you felt the push of his face against you, burying his face as close as he could get. As if he wanted nothing more than to inhale the scent of you. But you could not hide the depraved moan that slipped from your lips when his tongue finally breached your entrance.

Aemond groaned against you. He had tasted your blood before, but nothing like this. It was like he was consuming the very essence of you. Everything tasted stronger and it took every ounce of control he had to not sink his teeth in as well. The wet sounds of his tongue between your folds should have made you blush, but you were too lost in your pleasure. His hands held your hips tight, planting you to the bed as he devoured your bleeding cunt.

“Yes, oh, my prince…oh…” Your words verged on incoherent but every time his title spilled from you, Aemond growled and renewed his movements with even more vigour.

Soon you were arching your back, pushing your hips down towards him before Aemond’s hands planted you back to the bed. His grip was strong, tugging you down and burying his tongue as deep as it would go. Lapping up everything you gave him. He could feel your blood and arousal spilling down his chin as you reach your peak, soaking into the fabric of his undershirt. But he could not get enough. Only when he could feel you desperately try to pull away did he slow himself down.

“That’s it…oh my sweet girl…” he cooed, pressing blood tinted kisses to your thighs before pulling away.

You were lost. Head hazy and heart hammering as you slowly came down from your high. And your cheeks flushed as you locked eyes with your Prince. His icy iris staring up at you, pale skin stained the deepest red with the mix of your blood and your juices.

Aemond softened when he saw your body relax. He was as satisfied as you were now. His pleasure was your pleasure. His fingers were quick to bring the wayward drips from his lips and chin to his mouth, not wasting a drop. Your taste was like nothing he had experienced, even now. He had never fed this way before, and he was already desperate to do so again.

“Do you feel better?”

The question made you sit up on your elbows and you could not help but smile down at him. The ache in your thighs and stomach was gone. Your body flushed but relaxed.

“Yes, my prince, thank you,”

Aemond crawled up your body, bringing you close and urging you to curl into him. Now, it was his turn to serve you. His loyal servant, more than deserving of the same care in return. And he internally vowed to keep you at his side, especially during your bloods. He could not deny it.

He was obsessed.

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @khaleesihel @multyfangirl

@thenameswinter99 @legitalicat @tumblin-theworldaway

if you want to be tagged, please let me know!

[flowerandblood]

Play with my heart (1/3)

[ modern actors • Aemond x Strong • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, sexual tension, unprofessional behavior ]

[ description: He gets the main role in a series about a great family and dragons, which could change his career. He is set to play the uncle and love interest of his childhood friend. When he meets the actress who plays her role, he begins to lose track of what is an acting and what is his real feelings. Sexual tension, grumpy, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: Yeah. I talked about it and I did it. You don't even know how much fun I had doing this. Of course, my characters play in a series whose script is an exact copy of my story The Fall from the Heavens. In this universe, Aemond (playing the One-Eyed Prince) and Rhaenys (playing the Princess) are of course not related – the other characters are also just actors. This three-part series is my gift to all fans of the original series, thank you so much for your support. "Rhaenys" in this story is her artistic pseudonym which she use instead of her real name. In this chapter you will see her Instagram photos without any face reveal, just treat it like some moodboard of her modern look. You can read this as a standalone story.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Despite his resistance, his grandfather said this series could be his big chance. Because what's the likelihood of a big production looking for a tall actor with a scar over his left eye?

The white line running from his eyebrow to his cheek was a reminder of when his nephew smashed a bottle next to him, the shards of which shot upwards as he leaned over it. He lost the sight in that eye at the time, but got a new artificial one that looked almost identical to the real one.

"The director became interested in you when I described your appearance and character to him. It's a leading role, Aemond." His grandfather continued, clearly excited. He, however, felt only discomfort at his words.

"It's a fantasy series. Dragons, gowns and knights. Romance, on top of that, between an uncle and a niece. I don't know. It's…" He started and didn't finish, running his hand over his face.

It sounded idiotic and he felt he would have made a fool of himself in front of millions of viewers who would forever remember him in the role of the cripple prince in an incestuous relationship.

"At least read the script." His grandfather didn't give up and placed a thick volume of stapled white pages in front of him.

Resigned, he spread himself comfortably on the sofa in his flat in the evening and began to read. He pressed his lips together when he saw that it all started with a flashback – the characters of the prince and his niece were still children at the time and were to be played by younger actors.

There was no cloying or exaggerated sweetness in the story or dialogues that he had expected. What surprised him was the moment when his character lost his eye and the fact that he decided not to speak to his betrothed for eight years.

He thought it was a bit of an overreaction, but perhaps in those days men approached their honour in this way.

Then he got to the scenes where their adult characters appeared and their first scene when they see each other in the courtyard. He imagined what was happening as if he was watching a film, them, throwing glances full of pain at each other, and him, unable to bear it, attacking his opponent in rage.

To his surprise, the next scene, the scene in his chamber turned into a love scene that made him hot – and then, just when he thought the rest of the plot would be a soap opera, his character suddenly became aggressive and cold again, destroying everything they had managed to accomplish.

He thought curiously that he liked how complicated and unpredictable the Prince's character was, how hard he tried to suppress the feelings he felt for this girl, how confident he was at the same time, with so many complexes and hatreds inside him.

He was intrigued.

He decided he would go for an audition and to his surprise, the next day he received a call that the director had decided he was perfect for the part.

He got the lead role in the series.

His grandfather, as his agent, contacted the production and it turned out that they wanted to rehearse scenes between him and the actresses who would play the Princess. He was to appear in the studio in a setting specially prepared for this, which would resemble the Prince's chamber.

They were to portray the scene in which his niece comes to the Prince's chamber on the evening they see each other for the first time in eight years.

There were no wigs or costumes prepared yet, so he was given something of a substitute, a simple leather tunic and boots, and a black eye patch that had been designed specifically for his character earlier and was already finished.

The lights were turned off, leaving only the lamps for illumination and the candles and fire lit all around. He looked towards the fireplace, fiddling with the knife between his fingers, recognising that this would add an air of unease to the scene.

"Action!" The director shouted, and the door opened. He looked to the side and spotted a tall, black-haired girl. Her lips curved in pain at the sight of him, as if she was suffering greatly, but he thought in the back of his mind that her facial expression was exaggerated.

"Did you received my letters?" She asked in a trembling voice, looking at him with her chin raised high.

This was not how he imagined her, but he decided to focus on his role, rolling the knife between his fingers.

"Yes." He replied coldly and dispassionately.

The girl swallowed hard.

"Have you read them?"

"Cut! They see each other for the first time in eight years. They feel anger, fear, disbelief! Give me something more than theatrical indifference and tears." The director called out, making both him and the girl in front of him swallow hard, embarrassed.

"Action!"

It seemed to him that it went on forever. Girls similar to themselves went in and out, and he repeated the same line over and over again, feeling nothing.

He was in character as much as he could, taking his role very seriously, trying to identify with it, but he couldn't bring up the feelings he was supposed to have for this girl who, after all, was supposed to be the love of his life.

He sighed heavily, adjusting the eye patch over his eye when the director said that there was another rehearsal ahead of them. He nodded his head to let him know that he was ready.

"Action!"

The door opened, but the girl who stood in it looked at him for a moment with big eyes, as if she didn't recognise him. There was something endearing in that gaze. She turned behind her, as if she was afraid of being seen, and immediately closed the door, breathing loudly.

At last, real acting.

She turned towards him, as if she was afraid of him, and he pressed his lips together, involuntarily looking at her body hidden only beneath a thin nightgown, her slightly wavy, long dark hair falling freely over her shoulders.

Her face was gentle, warm, her eyes large, her lashes and eyebrows dark, accentuating her charm.

She was silent for a moment, her lips trembling, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't.

"Did you received my letters?"She muttered softly in a hopeful voice, from which he felt goosebumps pass along his back.

"Yes." He whispered, his voice soft and low.

Yes, he thought, give me something I can work with.

She swallowed loudly and clenched her hands into fists, shifting from foot to foot. She shook her head, her eyebrows arched in pain as if asking how he could do this to her.

"Have you read them?" She asked, and he pressed his lips together, tilting his head back and snorted under his breath, turning the blade in his hand. She jumped up, horrified when he slammed it suddenly into the armrest lying beneath his hand.

"Yes, my Lady Strong. I have read them all. Many times, here, in this chair." He murmured mockingly, looking at her with slightly parted lips, lifting his chin in a gesture of superiority.

He was sure the director would interrupt, but he let them continue.

The girl lowered her gaze, her body quivering as if she was about to cry, an expression of humiliation, pain and shame on her face from which he felt heat in his heart.

Her gaze suddenly changed. She swallowed hard, as if she had also swallowed his insult, and moved ahead of him, pretending to walk towards the bookshelf.

He pressed his lips together and looked at her over his shoulder, measuring her with a furious, cold stare.

"Do you often visit men like this?"

She turned to him with a look as if she wanted to kill him, her hand dropping as if she had run out of strength after what she had heard.

"Have you no shame?" She asked coolly, the way she said it, the look in her eyes made him feel a cold sweat on his back.

"Cut! That was fantastic, thank you!" Said the director, and she blinked, the expression on her face turning from cold and disgusted to a wide smile full of joy, her gaze warm and welcoming.

"– you were amazing – I had goosebumps –" She whispered as she walked past him and giggled, waving goodbye to him, disappearing out the door a moment later.

When it turned out a few days later that she had got the role, he breathed a sigh of relief. The director had told him in a phone conversation that he could feel the kind of tension on camera that he expected from their characters and that this was it.

He was ashamed to admit it, but he agreed with him.

She was good and pulled the most subtle, intriguing expressions from her face with ease.

Although he didn't usually do this and resented his grandfather for forcing him to create an official instargam account, which was almost dead anyway, he used it to find her. At first he thought Rhaenys was her name, but then the producent told him it was her stage pseudonym.

He did not know what he thought of this, finding that it was an approach to acting that he was not fond of, but he decided not to judge her hastily, being a very private and withdrawn person himself.

Finding her turned out to be child's play, and he felt like a voyeur, scrolling through all her posts on her wall one by one, wanting to get a sense of who he would be working with, or at least that's how he tried to explain this unnatural curiosity to himself.

He snorted involuntarily in amusement upon seeing her Pikachu shirt, thinking with a kind of admiration that she had a distance to herself that he lacked.

She apparently wasn't afraid of harsh judgement from the outside world, of someone saying she was childish or immature, retaining a kind of innocence he hadn't seen in any actress in a long time.

Usually, like him, they created themselves, how they wanted to be perceived, making from their characters a style under which everything else was adjusted.

He felt a strange kind of satisfaction that he couldn't explain when he didn't see her in any of the photos with any man in an embrace or position that might indicate that she had a boyfriend.

He thought this would make it easier for him to get into character and not feel remorseful – although of course it was only his job – that he was touching someone else's girlfriend.

Although he was not convinced about this project at first, he was now beginning to feel excited at the thought that this really could open the door to his career.

All the way up to the start of shooting, he had been preparing himself to actually get into the character mentally, reading the script again and again, trying to understand Prince's character, unintentionally identifying with him more and more.

With his pain, his shame, his longing, his despair, his unfounded, cold, calculating irony and aggression.

While not everyone applauded the method acting, he felt the need to understand the character he was playing, to get inside his head, to become him in some way, to properly portray his emotions.

He and his grandfather flew to the hotel a few days before shooting to acclimatise, attend rehearsals and costume fittings. He met the actor, Aegon, who would play his brother-king, and Jace, who would play the Princess's older brother, and although he was an aloof man, he quickly found common ground with them.

Looking at the size and number of sets, the scenery created especially for one or two scenes, he felt the grand scale of the whole project and thought with excitement that he would be a fool if he refused.

When the make-up artists and stylists applied the wig on his head, his leather tunic, his breeches and his eye patch they said he was made for this role. When he glanced at himself in the mirror, he found in disbelief that he really did look like a different person and he liked what he saw.

He looked dark, menacing, malicious.

Just as he had imagined.

They met formally for the first time at, much to his liking, a session with a woman who he understood was a psychologist and was supposed to take care of them when it came to approaching intimate scenes and their comfort zone.

They shook hands with polite smiles in a way that was a tad too official, but there was something heartfelt and warm in her expression and her bright eyes that made him feel a pleasant sensation in his chest.

He tried not to grin as he saw her wearing a Pikachu t-shirt, the exact same one she wore in one of her photos on Instagram.

The woman invited them with a hand gesture to sit across from her on the couch as she sat on the other side, in an armchair.

"As I understand it, you have both read the script and your director's suggestions and know that there will be scenes involving you touching your naked bodies or exposing yourself in front of each other." She said calmly and they nodded their heads.

"Okay. I'll start by asking if you have any questions or concerns." She continued, but they were silent.

"I will be with you during every scene of this type, offering you advice and support. You have the right to say if you feel uncomfortable, if you are made to feel bad by a certain type of touch and you don't want to repeat the scene in the same way. The director wants you both to feel safe here." She added, and they nodded their heads.

"Do you have any barriers, things you're sure you don't want the other party to do? Touch in places that you find unacceptable?" She asked, and he remained silent, but looked at his partner out of the corner of his eye, curious.

He saw that she pressed her lips together, as if she wanted to say something but was afraid to. She swallowed quietly at last, fiddling with the material of her black tracksuit shorts.

"– I – let's just say I'm not experienced in this kind of scenes – it's hard to say where my comfort limit is – what should I do if, for example, we're in the middle of filming and I feel unwell? –" She asked uncertainly, looking at her with her big, bright eyes.

The woman nodded.

"– of course, you should then stop the filming – it would be a good idea if you just agreed between you beforehand what you plan to do, where you plan to touch each other – this will help you to prepare in advance for what is going to happen, to say what causes your concerns –" She replied calmly.

The girl smiled and let out a quiet breath, as if something in her answer had reassured her.

He saw her for the second time during a party at the hotel that the series' production organized for them, so they could get to know each other better and relax before the first day of shooting.

Like him, she was dressed plain, in long mid-thigh length, fluffy sweatshirt and woollen cream, overknee socks, while he, as usual, was dressed all in black.

She approached him to greet him for a certain out of sheer courtesy, he however appreciated her professional demeanour. When she asked if she could sit with him and the people from production he involuntarily moved over on the sofa, making room next to himself, which she accepted with a smile.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye while chatting to the set crew all evening, a few drinks were enough for him to loosen his tongue a little and start talking like a normal person.

He furrowed his eyebrows, feeling the whisky already humming heavily in his head when he saw her get up from the table and go to the toilet, leaving her half-finished drink with them.

He figured he'd wait with his assessment of the situation until she returned, but to his dismay, surely enhanced by the alcohol, he acted rather dramatically, pushing the glass away from her as soon as she sat back down next to him and tried to reach for it.

"Never leave your drinks with strangers in this business. Always take them with you." He said as if he were her older brother or father.

She blinked, horrified and ashamed, clearly not even thinking that anyone among the people around her might want to hurt her, but he knew this environment better than she did.

Seeing the look on her face, he pressed his lips together.

"Believe me. I heard this kind of stories. They put pills in your drink, tell you they'll help you back to your hotel room when you start to feel worse, and the next day on set they tell you that if you say anything to anyone, you can go back where you came from."

They stared at each other for a moment in uncomfortable silence and although the people around them were laughing, she seemed to be experiencing some sort of shock.

"Do...do you know such women personally?" She mumbled, and he shook his head, playing with his glass between his fingers.

"No, thank God. But I've heard hundreds of stories like that. I'm not trying to scare you, I'm just trying to warn you. For your safety." He added, feeling for some reason like an idiot who was now lecturing and moralising her.

She nodded quickly, however, her gaze filled with a warmth and understanding that made his chest hot, though he blamed the whisky he'd drunk for his condition.

"Yes, you are right, I should be more careful. I'm glad I'll be working with someone like you." She confessed with a kind of embarrassment that surprised him, playing with the material of her woollen knee-length socks.

He looked at her, spread out comfortably on the leather sofa, realising that there was so little room at the table that their knees were pressed against each other.

When she said she would go to sleep, for some reason he offered to walk her to her room. She smiled broadly at his words and they set off together for the lift, exchanging quiet, non-committal remarks on the way.

There was something about her demeanour that made him feel at ease, her gentleness, openness and the alcohol humming in his head made him more daring when it came to spoken words.

"You made a great impression on me during the auditions." He hummed and she looked up at him, her eyes shining with joy.

"You don't even know how much these words mean to me. You were wonderful, convincing and charismatic. I hope I won't disappoint you." She said.

"Mmm." He hummed and flinched as the elevator doors slid open on the floor where their rooms were located. They walked out into the hall in silence, the warm look in her eyes that she gave him over her shoulder made him feel hot.

"– see you tomorrow –" She said and he nodded.

"– sleep well –"

The first scene they were to play, although it was only in the fifth episode, was when they returned to her chamber after speaking with her stepfather following negotiations about the succession to the throne.

Their dialogue was about what they really thought regarding what had happened in the past – this scene did not contain intimate moments and was meant to help them get into their characters well.

She walked into the room, which was also a large medieval chamber immersed completely in darkness and smiled at the sight of him. He nodded his head in greeting.

She approached him, all beaming with happiness and excitement, a nightgown on her body and a thin robe thrown over her shoulders.

"You look amazing. Wonderful characterisation." She said softly with a sincere cordiality from which he felt warmth in his heart.

"Thank you." He replied calmly, not knowing what more he could answer.

"I am the one who wants to thank you. For what you said yesterday. I guess I needed to hear this." She said, giving him a warm look full of gratitude that made him feel relieved.

"Forgive me if I was too harsh." He whispered.

"You were not." She said calmly.

He nodded and grunted, swallowing heavily, being sober having problems again with putting his thoughts into words.

They looked up at the director who ordered that they were about to go to the first shot where they were lying on the bed, so they took their places next to each other on the sheets.

He felt the stress gripping his body, the tension at the thought that there were dozens of people around them looking at them and judging him.

He had been given this role with ease and now he had to prove himself.

"Action!"

He shuddered as he felt her hand on his and looked up at her – her face was frighteningly close to his, pleasantly smooth and soft, a warmth in her gaze from which he ran out of words.

"Speak to me, uncle. Don’t lock yourself in your mind." She whispered to him, as if these words were meant only for him, as if she really cared about him, missed him, loved him.

He looked at her with his heart pounding fast, thinking with horror that he had forgotten his line.

"– I will –" She whispered.

He swallowed hard and closed his eyelids, trying to turn his fear into an expression of regret and rage on his face.

"I will never understand how could you leave me then." He hissed through clenched teeth, looking at her again, pain in her gaze, as if his words had really surprised and hurt her.

"– that was never my intention –"

"– then why? –"

"My mother then told me to let you rest and calm down. That the guards wouldn’t let me visit you anyway by order of the Queen."

He snorted, looking at her with both disbelief and frustration. He blinked, smelling her pleasant scent, and realised that, just like in the script, she must have rubbed her skin with some vanilla oil.

He looked at her lips, pink, soft and full, and for a moment he forgot again what he should say next.

What was happening to him?

"It doesn’t matter." He muttered finally. "I needed you when it happened."

He saw her furrow her brow, her lips tightened in pain.

"I needed you too." She said in a trembling voice. "When Criston Cole held my cheeks as your mother’s guards poured moon tea down my throat. I wondered at the time if that’s how you felt."

He was impressed to see real emotion in her gaze – pain, grief, shame, fear. He didn't know why he lifted his hand and touched her cheek – he thought it was idiotic, but she followed it up and grasped his fingers in hers, kissing gently the inside of his palm.

He cursed in his head feeling his manhood pulsed softly in his breeches.

He put his arm around her waist and snuggled her into his chest as scripted – her hands embraced him, her face pressed against the hollow of her neck.

He seemed to feel her puffy little nipples through the fabric of his shirt before the director shouted ‘cut!’.

They pulled away from each other, looking up at him, rising on their elbows.

"– I liked it, but I would change the ending – I know it's not in the script, but the moment when he touches her cheek begs for a soft, tender, innocent kiss – can we try it that way? –" He asked, and they nodded and grunted, embarrassed.

She returned to her earlier position, trying again to bring to her face the same sadness, pain and grief he had seen seconds before.

"I needed you too." She said in pain. "When Criston Cole held my cheeks as your mother’s guards poured moon tea down my throat. I wondered at the time if that’s how you felt."

He looked at her for a moment with a gaze full of regret and touched her cheek again, running his thumb over her jaw. She kissed his hand as gently as before, cuddling her face into his rough skin, closing her eyes. She sighed quietly as he drew her closer to his face, her warm breath enveloping his skin before his fingers weaved into her hair, forcing her to lean down.

They clung to each other in a slow, shy kiss with the quiet click of their saliva, her plump, fleshy lips tasted of some sweet strawberry lipstick, deliciously soft, warm and wet, their breaths shaky and excited.

It seemed to him that time stood still; her touch was tender and full of peace but also the certainty of her affection, her soft fingers gently trailing over his jaw and cheek, caressing him as if she wanted to give him a sense of security.

Something about her closeness reassured him, and his broad hand stroked her head as if she were a small child, brushing gently her lower lip with his own, a quiet, shy sigh left her mouth.

He swallowed loudly, terrified as he felt his manhood swell and throb at the sound, at her closeness, at her taste, craving more.

They finally pulled away, her forehead pressed against his temple as his knuckles ran over her warm, soft cheek, something in her gaze he couldn't name.

"Cut! I loved this!" Their director called to them and they let out a loud sigh of relief, as if they had accomplished something very significant. His partner smiled at him.

"Everything's all right?" He asked, somehow condescending towards her, afraid she wouldn't tell him she felt uncomfortable even if she did.

She blinked, surprised by his question, and leaned over him as the crew discussed with each other whether they wanted to change anything in the shot.

"Why are you asking?" She asked lightly, curious, as if she didn't understand what he meant.

There was something intimate about how close her face was, her pleasant scent filling his lungs.

"We didn't talk about this before the scene. You know." He replied, not knowing what else to call what he was thinking about. Her eyes widened as if what he said scared her.

"– oh – no, no – I feel fine – but it's very kind of you to ask –" She whispered warmly, laying her head next to his on the pillow, pressing her forehead to his temple.

"– I feel safe with you –" She said softly into his ear, her words intended only for him.

He swallowed loudly at the thought that this could be a huge mistake on her part.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Michael Ralph, the Good Omens Production Designer, interview for Movieweb :), summer 2023

Question: What is your reaction to your fan's positivity?

Michael Ralph: It's unbelievable. To see your work reflected in the eyes of people that love it is incredibly complimentary and it feels on, you know, you're honoured by having that response .It's rare that you get to experience it. You know, I think that we were involved recently in a fans' view of the set where all the fans who'd been involved in a competition were able to walk around the set. It's extraordinary. And I got hugs and people in tears. And it is an overwhelming experience to stand in that street and be in that bookshop when you didn't think, even though you knew, but you didn't quite know it really existed as a place that you could walk around in is quite phenomenal.

Question: Do you see locations as extensions of characters?

Michael Ralph: My feeling is that we would all, if possible, choose to live where we believe and within an environment that we believe suits us, doesn't suit anyone else. It's a fingerprint thing. It's like, where are you most comfortable? Where are you most comfortable to read or to write or to watch a programme or where do you feel the most secure?That bookshop is an anchor point visually for the show and always has been an anchor point since day one. And it is where you feel most secure. It's where the door closed, you feel safe within it. And what emanates or resonates with that bookshop, not only from the character and the position or who Aziraphale is, is that everybody that walks into that bookshop feels the same thing. Everyone that walks in that bookshop, I've said it before, just want to live upstairs and drink red wine and read books all day and they feel comfortable and they feel nostalgic and it creates a sense of security and protection. And I think that if you can create that sort of sentimentality in something that you're walking around in, it must transcend the lens. And it obviously does because people feel it all the time and they want to go there and sit around in the corner and feel comfortable. So I think that from character point of view, I started really emotionally from Aziraphale. And Neil, whenever I've thought of a great idea that I tell Neil about and he tells me how amazing it might be or how fantastic or inspired it was, I suddenly start to realise it's probably in the book or it's probably in the script between the lines. What stimulates my apophenia, what stimulates my vision and my emotional motivation to design anything is what I can see in the page. So if he has written something so universally empathetic to an audience, then I'm seeing the same thing you are, in my variation, but it really is the same warp or the same sentimentality as I said, or any of those things. So if I can find how to get my fingernails under the edge of that, how I can actually depict it, then I know that it's going to work. And that's obviously... and you can believe in it then, and you can say it with all honesty, rather than impersonate your love for something or say something because your ego tells you you should, or produce something that's a duplicate of something you saw once in Italy. This is something you've got to feel that's specific to the project and specific to the written word, you know.

Question: Do you have the freedom to do what you want?

Michael Ralph: I must admit, reading the book the first time, it was difficult to get my head around how it was going to be depicted. You've got to be very careful that you don't impersonate what you've seen before, you don't copy and then call it original when it's not, because that's sort of like a cop out. You really, honestly have to live with it 24 hours a day, even while you're asleep, and search and search and search and search to find what it is that gets your fingernails under it, to find out what it is you really believe in. And it sounds so ethereal, but it's absolutely true. If you can get that, if you can openly find that, and you've got to feel that, if you can get that, then you're absolutely on something you can invest in and then something you can produce. Because then it's not something that's duplicated. All the furniture, literally all the furniture, all of the dressing on the walls, all of the bookshelves are all built but Bronwyn, a set decorator, will buy me a lot of brown furniture that she finds as really interesting furniture. Furniture that's got spindles and handcarved pieces and reliefs in it. And she gets me stuff that she believes goes with the character of the place. And then I'll break it open. This is what construction. I love working with construction with, because I'll break it open, cut it down, reattach it, and I'll remake wholewalls and bookshelves, like in the magic shop that none of it existed until we put together loads of stuff the set decorator found, that Bronwyn found. And then all that stuff ends up having a profile of the period, or echoes to you, little visual trip hazards of the period, of size and weight. But it isn't really anything you've ever seen before. It's not from a higher shop. It's not from a piece of furniture you bought, just plunk there. Because the camera sees things differently. And we have to lift all that up and make it bigger and larger in scale to punctuate the vision. So all of that is... there's all sorts of theories, I could go on forever, you know. I was saying to Bronwyn today that I think I've been working all my life on trying to raise my intellect, to be able to incorporate a vocabulary to explain what it is I do creatively. I'm not there yet.

Question: Is there something you'd like to explore in the future?

Michael Ralph: And it's funny you should say that, because that process, from what I've explained to you, doesn't originate with me. So you need to get that book or that source material, and someone has to say, you're the guide for this, I'd love to see what you see. And then it's like this massive submerge, you submerge into it. And then it's a journey, a journey that you embrace and it reveals things that I could guess maybe 15-20 things I'd like to do on Season Three, but it's not scripted. So what is that? You know, I've got imaginary things that I will adopt because I know that they've got weight or purpose that will work for Season Three. But I need to see what Neil shows me, you know, what Neil teaches and tells me, and then once I've seen that, I can run with it. He's such a wonderful appreciator of what you achieve. He's never questioned anything I've done, ever. And it's been hundreds of things, hundreds of sets and ideas. And no matter how crazy what it is, I might end up drawing the craziest things first. But he still loves them, you know. And it feels like it probably was there already between the lines. And all I've done is pick up on it. You got to really get into it to mime what it is that affects you and what moves you. What it is you love about something. You can watch a show and read a book and not love it. You don't know why you didn't love it, it's unequatable, but you just didn't connect. But what we're trying to do with everything we do cinematically is to connect, is to somehow get through the equation. So you feel it. And I got a feeling that's why Good Omens works so well. Because of the amount of love and emotion that people put into it and amount of faith people have in what they're doing, because it's only done out of joy and it's only done for the goodness of that wonderful story that is developed and matured, within it, between the characters. And because of that, you can do nothing but sprinkle magic on it all the time.

[inkyajax]

⋆₊˚⊹♡ wriothesley + putting you back in your place (before you can even fully slip out of it!)

character: wriothesley warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, reader is a Brat, daddy kink, pet names, fem reader, dry humping, talks of spanking, use of the term sir words: 1.6k

wriothesley will never give into your bratting. just like you’ll never stop testing his patience.

The chattering of your teeth echoes throughout his office—soft, dainty, incessant, a soft hum vibrating on the back of Wriothesley’s tongue in question. Glancing up, Wriothesley’s gaze finds your shivering form easily, huddled into a small lump on his office couch, buried beneath the fluffiest blanket he has. 

“Whassa matter? You cold?” 

Features scrunched in a pout, you raise your head a little, glaring at him. “It’s freezing in here.” 

“Yeah, but you’re always freezing,” he clicks his tongue, as if he can’t trust your judgement, but there’s a small smile on his face, his eyes softening as he stares at you. 

“So?”

“So, you are not apt to complete such an evaluation. Here,” he shoves away from his desk, wooden legs of his chair scraping against metal. “Why don’t you come sit on Daddy’s lap, hm? He’ll keep you warm while he works.” 

And just like that, you’re tossing the blanket off—a quickly abandoned heap of fluff on the couch cushion—and scampering towards him, eager to climb onto his thighs, to submerge yourself in his everlasting heat, to garner a shard of his strained, stretched-thin attention. 

He’s chuckling as he rearranges you, large hands helping you into a more comfortable position—face buried in his broad chest, body pressed flush to his own, legs straddling his hips, the bones pressing into plush flesh as your thighs flex around him twice, a feeble attempt to pull yourself even closer to him.

“Not bringing the blanket with you?” 

“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head against his sternum, nuzzling into him. “Don’t need it. You’re warm enough.”

“Oh, am I, now?” he questions as he tucks himself back into his desk, one thick arm wrapped around your waist to keep you in place. “Are you sure this whole thing wasn’t just some ruse to wedge yourself between me and my work?” 

He’s joking, of course, can feel the cold tip of your nose pressing into the dip of his clavicle, can feel your icy fingers creeping their way up his shirt, burrowing into his muscled stomach and soaking up warmth.

“I would never, Daddy.” 

Now, that he doesn’t believe. 

“Mhmm, sure. And you’re going to behave while you’re on Daddy’s lap, right?” 

“‘Course I am.”

“No funny business?”

Nodding sleepily, you press a kiss over his heart, drooling out a promise. “Scouts honour.” 

And, for a moment, Wriothesley thinks you might actually co-operate—a rare but not impossible occurrence—might actually cuddle yourself against him, let his heat deliquesce your limbs and lull you comfortably into dreamland, just like he had expected half an hour ago, when he had decided it was time for a nap, and ordered such.

How utterly foolish. 

Because not even ten minutes into his resumed work—just shy, actually: nine minutes and thirty-two seconds, he’d been counting—and you’re starting to squirm, hips grinding into his as your shift, gyrate, then shift again, much too calculated to be a natural movement. 

“Baby,” he singsongs, pen tapping his paper twice. “I thought you said you were going to be good.”

“M’just tryna get comfy, that’s all,” you mumble into his skin, lips dragging along his protruding collarbone, leaving a steadily cooling streak of saliva.

“Misbehaving and lying? Wow, you’re really trying to earn yourself a punishment today.” 

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“I’m not, I swear!”

“You know,” he begins conversationally, hands creeping beneath the hem of your dress, calluses grating against supple skin as his palms slide up your thighs, careful, calculated. “Daddy didn’t invite you onto his lap so your could wiggle around and make him hard.” 

His grip clasps around your hips hard, fingers tensing as he holds you in place, nails sinking into the flesh just above the waistband of your panties, latching onto you in tiny stinging bites.

“It’s distracting.” 

The words are spit through gritted teeth, chewed out between heavy molars, the defined hinges of his jaw clenching. 

“Feels good though, doesn’t it?” your hips roll twice in his grasp, slow and forceful, the head of his cock gliding over your swelling, throbbing clit.

It nearly slips between your folds, cunt perfectly outlined by the thin silk clinging to your creases, slick material making the slide easy, panties already drenched all the way through with your arousal. 

Another rock forward has his cockhead catching on your hole, and you swivel your hips in tight, fast circles, almost as if you’re attempting to suck him in through your scant clothing. 

You’re sure you’re making a mess all over his uniform, sure he can feel how disgustingly wet you are from just this alone—a mere bit of dry humping and his stern, strong voice, rumbling against your ribs; doesn’t take much, now, does it?—sticky desire staining the crotch of his pants in a large, irregular patch of dampness. 

“No,” he says sternly, the sheer authority in his voice making you mewl, thighs squeezing his hips again. “It doesn’t.” 

His cock twitches, contradicting his words, and he growls. 

His cock always gives him away. 

A giggle froths in your throat, just barely kept at bay, and he growls again.

You know it’s bad to be laughing, but you just can’t help it—here’s a man with impeccable self-discipline, meticulous, iron-clad control over his own body, and you still manage to make him feel like some horny little virgin, your pelvis rutting again, this time with a vengeance.

It’s a thrill, a rush, to know you have a potent affect on a powerful man, dense heat beginning to sprawl deep within the pit of your belly, empty cunt aching as it flutters against his hard cock—a gentle begging, another surge of wetness rushing to flood the apex of your thighs. 

Still, that doesn’t mean you’re in charge. 

“Move another inch and I swear to the Archons—”

“You’ll do what?” you breathe into his neck, the question hot and beading on his skin. 

“I’ll put you right back on that couch, in time out,” his fingers tighten to near bone-crushing, a cry cracking in your throat. “I mean it.”

Lips molding into a sulky frown, your rub your face into the curve of his shoulder.

“Not fair,” you grumble, the words low and whiny, hitching on the beginnings of a sob. “You’re a big meanie.”

A deep sigh weighs heavy on his chest, ribs decompressing as he exhales, his grip on your waist loosening just a touch.

“Look at me.”

Your head shakes, cheek nestling further into him, a stark refusal.

“Look at me,” Wriothesley repeats, his voice strict, firm, cold, The Duke seeping out past his Daddy facade. “I won’t ask again.”

The command sends a small jolt zipping through your blood, fierce dominance demanding instant attention, and finally, you obey, peeking up from the safety of his shoulder and wincing a little at the intensity of his stare.

“You know what happens to little girls who act like fucking brats,” he warns, ice blue searching your face slow and thorough. 

You do—of course you do. You’ve been in that position more times than you can count. 

They get treated like fucking brats. 

“They get treated like fucking brats,” he echoes your thoughts. “Keep acting like a disrespectful little girl and watch what happens.”

You already know what happens: no sweets, no letters to your friends or trips to the surface, no boardgames before bedtime. 

No fun. 

“But—But! Maybe riding you will help warm me up even more.” 

“You wanna know what else would warm you up even more? A spanking.”

The yelp that hitches in your throat, automatic and half-stifled, is gratifying, satisfaction tugging at a corners of Wriothesley’s lips, edges curling slightly. 

You know he’s not fucking around.

“Is that what you want, huh?” his head dips with yours, effortlessly inhibiting your gaze from escaping his own. “Huh?”

“I—I dunno—”

“Let me revise the question, then.” His voice softens marginally, mollifying beneath your unsure trepidation. “Is that what you need?” 

His eyes are attentive as they scan your face, intent on cataloging and dissecting every slight change in micro-expression, desperate to make sure that you don’t require a therapy spanking.

Is that what you need? Daddy’s strong, solid hand colliding with your bottom in perfectly timed intervals, hard enough to leave a stinging, raised imprint of his palm across your flesh but not harsh enough to procure bruises, or a soreness that lasts more than the night? Daddy’s steady voice, calm and even, calling out numbers echoing after each sharp slap!? Daddy’s thick thighs, sculpted from lean, firm muscle, grounding and pressed tight to your torso, absorbing every shudder of your ribcage, every shiver of your flesh, rippling through your form following each strike?

Do you need a safe space to scream and cry and kick, to let go in every sense of the word and then allow Daddy’s scarred hands to put you back together, piece by painstaking piece, with loving fingers and hushed affirmations? Are you acting out because you’re in dire need of something more, instead of just craving shallow attention and exhilarating entertainment? 

No, you shake your head, you don’t think so.

“Words, sweetheart.”

“No, Sir.” 

“That’s what I thought,” he says, stringent, but his touch is tender, fingertips trailing up your spine in a comforting caress, his other hand massaging small circles into your hip. “Try something again and you will be receiving a spanking. This is your final warning, understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He drops a kiss to the crown of your head, then scatters a few more across your scalp for good measure. “Now, be a good girl and go to sleep for me, yeah? You clearly need a nap.” 

You may always test Daddy’s patience, but Daddy always wins. 

[fukashiin]

high school sweethearts au

— w. riddle, ace, leona, jack, octatrio (collectively), jamil, vil, rook, silver, malleus

⤷ oh dear diary, i met a boy, he made my dull heart light up with joy.

a/n: a valentine's day special!! i enjoyed writing this sm<33

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS AS

⤷ THE STUDENT LIBRARIAN !

- the student who volunteered for library duties when no one else would. he mostly works behind the counter with his eyes glued to the screen of his computer—looking for the names of those who had overdue books to return. an esteemed honour student at the same time, the envious mixture of methodical and dutiful that makes the role of a student librarian fit him like a glove.

- he mostly reads at his own pace—a fascinating volume of historical topics covered through the years. rusted evidence that he likes to give his own insights on at the tip of his fingers. sometimes people catch him wondering a bit too far, as his eyes stray off to certain page for way too long.

- despite his free time, he still takes care of his own duties that needs to be carried out, from arranging books back to their rightful shelves, tidying up used tables of its multi-coloured eraser shavings and lost pencils that he hands up to the lost-and-found.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- you often stop by the library for self-revision, a thick stack of textbooks that sit pretty at the side of your table as you have your own necessities. you don’t have much to do after this particular study session, so you plan to head back to your own dorm after reliving your memory of the chapters the teachers have went through with you in class today.

- strangely, unknowingly—the table you sit at is always empty. always reserved for a certain someone. that’s when your relationship with riddle started to bloom.

- any time he spots you at the corner of his eye once you enter the air-conditioned space, he throws a small smile your way and elegantly places the book he was reading down to stroll to your side to help you carry your bag that you were sure was about to dislocate your shoulder. 

- he sits by your side whenever you needed help, some topics just simply played a baffling game of chess with your head that you dread to the core. but he’s more than happy to help one way or another. either to point out to you specific key words, gently grabbing the highlighter out of your grasp, initiating eye contact with you with the textbook closed to help you memorise important points for so long the rate of his heartbeat starts to speed up—

- the air between you two really alleviates your burden and the packed schedule you have to attend to on a daily basis. with school is a bucket of workload that’s dumped onto you. with riddle, is a soft feeling. you don’t have to worry about your planned itineraries for the day and you can be yourself for a while.

he’s full comfort, a swift reminder of those drizzly cinnabuns you two go for a bite for when classes are over for the day. 

- it’s no surprise he has his plate full with library duties either. so to pay him back, you offer him to head for a bookstore somewhere outside the campus, assuring him that you’ll deal with things when his mom intervenes for his “unthinkable” behaviour. in return, he’ll purchase as many books for you as want. hard covers, too.

ACE TRAPPOLA AS

⤷ THE PLAYER ON THE BASKETBALL TEAM !

- it’s as in-character as you think it is. you’ve lost count of the number of times he’s pointed a conspicuous finger at you when you’re sitting on the bleachers, yelling out your name and promising he’ll score a shot for you! much to his disappointment (and surprise, for some reason), the ball just bounces right off the hoop and crashes into another player on the team.

- the indoor sports hall is a huge advantage for him since it lets him connect his phone to the bluetooth speakers, letting him blast out his music of choice that consists of endless tracks from nba youngboy and eminem when the coaches were absent and the company could carry on with free training. 

- his classmates adore him, but the teachers hold their breath in at the thought of having him in their class. a truly slothful student to some extent—but is able to ace every test given out. higher authorities wanted to believe their eyes were playing a trick on them when they take a glance at his report card that contained a full, gleaming row of straight A’s.

- cheeky at heart and playfully flirts with whoever he wants just for the fun of it, not to get their contact number just to ghost them later on like he did with a past lover. he’s learned his mistake and he’s willing to do better, both academically and athletically. but he supposes he could get used to the popularity for a while.

YOUR DYNAMIC 

- resists the urge to dropkick his teammates whenever they send out mischievous whistles his direction when they see you with him. he’s just asking for your notes! nothing else in mind like scrawling his phone number down on some lined-paper and slipping it into the back of your notebook in hopes that you notice and send out a few messages to him when you’re back at your place (and develop into something more...?)

- the type of person who didn’t believe in young love at first before he met you. now, you two make small trips to the school cafeteria to purchase your favourite smoothies when practise was stopped to a 5 minute break. smoothly sweet talks his way out of paying—but doesn’t see your kindness to be taken control over. In return, he tells you the answers for the upcoming test he was able to get his hands on, whether you’re going to use them or not.

- denies (anticipated) accusations that you and him were together in an “uncool” manner, according to him. it’s even worse when you’re present, there to see his face burst in pink and his speedy mannerisms, like telling you to “ignore them!” or shoving you into the nearest locker so his friends don’t catch a glimpse of you.

- sometimes his eyes stay on your face for way too long the atmosphere starts to contort into a weird, one-sided stare-off when it’s supposed to be your one-on-one study session with him. you take notice that he’s not looking at the tip of your pen that’s pointing to a specific part of his notes and threaten to poke his eyes out if he doesn’t focus. you could only giggle internally when he fumbles about and retracts his stare from your face.

- questions you if you’ve been in any past relationships, only to reject hearing your answer when he’s too afraid that he may be outshone in some way.

- but you reassure him that you haven’t, and you’re more than happy to enter into one with him. with that, you see him gleefully punch a fist into the air once he’s off on his way to tell his teammates about it, too in his thoughts that he forgets about the teasing he’s about to be bombarded with afterwards.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR AS 

⤷ THE CLASS SLACKER !

- similar to his junior ace in some ways. petty, bored, but effortlessly gets the highest grade in the class. it’s no surprise that even the overachiever who sits behind him and sees his big, outstanding ‘100′ penned in red at the corner of his paper that easily outdoes their imperfect ‘98′, has to keep their tongue in to ward off the nasty feeling of shooting the rudest vulgarities out of their mouth.

- lessons in session automatically translates to “do whatever you want for the period”—no matter the subject he takes. he often gets caught folding paper origamis or writing down the most prankish notes just to crumble it up and toss it the teacher’s way.

hands a little too skillful has him crafting numberless spitballs that he uses as imaginary missiles to shoot into random people’s hair. the preppy boys can wave a sad goodbye to hair day when leona appears with a handmade launcher in the hallway.

- though with such a behaviour, leona somehow seems to make himself appear approachable from his short-formed responses and dismissive nods. but could anyone have ever guessed that he would act so mind-blowingly different with someone else?

YOUR DYNAMIC

-  if he ever catches your mood down in the dumps, he insists you to come with him to the cat cafe that holds many cuddly creatures to help aid the minds of those tireless students piled with projects to complete with mind-boggling deadlines. either he enjoys getting swarmed by the adorable army of kitties himself, or looks at you with the softest eyes thinking about how you strangely resemble them as you get lost in distant laughter when one of them decide to curl up in your lap.

- sneakily shares his stash of snacks that he managed to shove into his bag at the back of the class when the two of you were luckily placed together during seat arranging. each low-key pass of a sweet was complimented by his deep chuckle as he feels rewarded by the numerous suspicious stares that fly by both of your ways.

- nonchalantly terrifies any cheap intimidators when he catches you getting cornered. you wonder if his initial plan backfired and that he actually made them fall in love with him with his unfairly gorgeous face? (you don’t blame them)

- growls at whoever takes the chance to wake him up from his day-to-day naps, rolling his eyes at their dumbassery when it’s a whole different story when it comes to you. when you do it (with panicked warnings you got beforehand), leona takes a while to get familiar with the touch of your skin and swishes his tail from side to side when he recognises your oh-so sweet scent he cherishes to the moon and back. 

raises an eyebrow at you for being so brave to take the opportunity to wake him up, promising he’ll pay you back tenfold when in fact, he really, really hopes he can grow much more affectionate with you when time passes, until skin contact becomes a normal thing between the two of you.

JACK HOWL AS 

⤷ THE (ACTUALLY SMART) JOCK !

- people genuinely wonder in disbelief why he’s so taken aback by the number of students who swoon over him when they see him doing his daily sets of warm-ups in the gym by himself. his ear twitches in the slightest when he feels four—five, pairs of eyes burning right into his back.

- he’s a lone wolf to some extent- but that doesn’t mean he’ll drive away his friends who thrive to stretch right beside him, despite being a literal twig compared to jack. they’ll all do tons of sets together while emitting the roughest groans from their aching bodies until sweat is seeping ceaselessly out of their outfits.

unsurprisingly, jack is still up and full of stamina as he silently praises himself for not being as slow-minded as his friends since he changed into his p.e attire ahead of time. +10 health gained back for him.

- the coaches normally pick him out as the representative when international competitions are around the corner. with him representing the school, there’s definitely going to be headlines and news reports made about them! except when he actually wins it isn’t. people are seen firing bountiful praises online at jack for his athleticism for a 16 year old, in awe at how he always manages to place first.

- is more than happy to help anyone out when activities take a wrong turn and result in them being injured. whether if it’s being in a wheelchair or in crutches, he takes the opportunity to bring them to their destination on time.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- his eyes immediately dart to you when the teacher announces for everyone to form a pair for pre-activity stretching. he takes the lead to call out what set of stretches to do and helps to adjust your posture or the angle of wherever your arm is pointing to. his firm hands coming in contact with your body invites a quick rush of blood to your cheeks, startled with the sudden proximity that came about. it doesn’t help the fact that his steady breath is on your skin, unaware of his swift movements that he didn’t bat an eye to (why is he like this?)

- when all the physical stuff is done for the day, he’ll give you a small nudge on the shoulder and tell you he’s going to get some water. what took you aback was when you thought he was getting it for himself—being as hardworking as he is, it only makes sense to reward himself for putting up with you and your incapability with some activities.

 - but instead, he brings back two bottles of water, briskly handing one over to you before he open his. he makes sure to assure you that you weren’t a problem at all, and that you deserve a restful break after all your physical exertion.

- not just crazy athletic but simultaneously smart as well! but when his classmates ask for his homework answers in dire need to not be caught by the teacher, he hits them with a “you should’ve done it at home” and gets up from his seat to hand in his work. you don’t know whether to laugh or feel bad for that person. the student then gawks at both you and jack when he lets you in on his answers instead.

- even when he has an enormous fanbase full of people who adore him and wish to talk to him more just for the sake of it, he always makes sure to come to you first, to check in on your health, both mentally and physically, to know that you’re healthy and ready for the day. 

OCTATRIO AS 

⤷ THE POPULAR GROUP !

- as the owners of a lounge that’s quite far from school grounds with quality dishes you’ll never find anywhere else and their dashing looks that shoot an arrow right through people’s lovestruck hearts, it’s no wonder that their popularity skyrockets through the roof when you found out that they go here. you’ve seen a few of the posts they share on magicam—and they’re the perfect definition of young, beautiful, and dirty rich.

- people would kill to watch them pass by in the hallways of the very school they’re in. this trio, with their alluring cologne and clad in neat, tidy clothing that doesn’t even necessarily have to be of the latest trends but still making them look amazing—ambling in the bustling halls? suddenly, lessons were called off for the day and there’s no homework due the day after. the trio quietly snicker to each other in the process.

- there’s definitely a fangroup about them. all they could be doing was to order lunch at the school cafeteria, and the group chat students made based on them would turn wild when floyd faces back to give a sly “cheese~” at the camera that was facing his way.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- unfairly spoils you to death as they give you special discounts at the lounge, telling you that it doesn’t matter whatever you order, their vip customer is always getting 10% off the price. if that’s too low—azul’s more than willing to give you a better benefit. proceeding your easy-earned discounts, jade suggests that they carefully plan out a drink based off of you and your personality, questionable intentions in mind as he proposes the idea to make it the most expensive drink on the menu too.

- absolutely loves to have you sit at their table during break, letting you in on their latest gossip. the amount of intel that they collected on their recent “customer” that created a scene at the lounge for not being open when it clearly had its working hours placed at the entry is rather concerning. floyd gives a shameless wink your way and tells you to not reveal this treasured piece of information. (gaslight gatekeep girlboss)

- weekend sleepovers at their place consists of them researching the finest ingredients and dishes to add to the menu and them serving up some steaming platter for you to try your taste buds on to give some feedback on it.  well, including a small competition to win your heart over as well.

- people are flabbergasted at the amount of attention you receive from these three. “jealous” wasn’t a word too far off to describe their feelings either, and it wasn’t any better. you’d sometimes wonder whether it was a good idea to become friends with this particular trio.

but you can rest assured that they’ll handle with any bad outcomes that dares to come about, and if it’s regarding their large fanbase—they have just the solution. nobody would say no to rushing to the lounge and being up to date with the latest release of their newest dish that you so nicely tried out for them.

- even as the three of them secretly try their best to win your heart over, they’ll also make sure to check with your boundaries and query you if they ever pass the line of comfort. if that so happens anytime, they’ll apologise by doing whatever you want free of charge! they dote on you a whole ton, and truthfully, relish in the time they get to spend with you.

JAMIL VIPER AS

⤷ THE SKATER BOY !

- the student who’s effortlessly charismatic because of his chill and dismissive attitude. the teachers are either pulling their hair out because of him or praising him for being early to class as they spot him waiting outside with him and his rusty ipod he just found that’s been collecting dust in his storage room. he vaguely remembers it as a gift given by a loved one, hence, why he keeps it safe wherever he goes.

- comes to class ROCKING those white vans like okay??? i see you???

- concerning him and school as a whole—it’s just as if he slithers right by his classmates’ attention like how a snake slithers through grass. he’s awfully sly and nimble, skipping class just to head out to the skate park that’s spray painted in graffiti all over by some infamous artists. he personally doesn’t care—it just adds to his presence of mind and how much fun he’s going to have. self-skating sessions are a fresh breather for him, indifferent to his number of absences.

- and don’t forget the secret rush of ego he gets when people stop and stare to watch him do his challenging tricks over the ramps and metal railings. it’s mesmerising how his hair flows so prettily in the wind and the golden glow of the sunset that highlights his features, like, how some people dramatise, an angel fallen from the blinding heavens. jamil rolls his eyes behind their backs once he’s finished his set of tricks.

YOUR DYNAMIC 

- honestly didn’t think of you much when you two first met, but now his heart, baggy clothes, and skateboard are all yours.

- when you spot him alone in the corner of the classroom when it’s a free period, a smile inevitably creeps up his face and he gives a relaxed wave as you come up and say hi to him. you’ve always been rather interested in his music taste and what was playing on those ipods of his, so when you do make it noticeable to him, he takes out the left side of his earphones and places it in your ear for you, fingers brushing the shell of your ears. you hope he didn’t feel how boiling-hot it was.

- daily stop-bys at the vending machine to talk about hot shit. you both agreed to pay for the drinks for the other on some days and do the same back. he finds such a leisure time so precious and, as much as he’s having double thoughts about it, he’d very rather much spend his alone time with you than in a class filled with students. especially when the class clown is present. eugh.

- he’s memorised your go-to drinks by now, and whenever you’re absent from school, he makes an effort to walk to your place to tend to you and hand over your favourite beverage once you’re up and better than ever.

- texts you in the dead of the night, asking if you’d want to head over to the skate park with him there to teach you some tricks he’s learnt on his own accord. agreeing was probably the best thing you’ve done all day, with the built-up pressure you get to release on your time with him as he helps you get rid of your muscle strains. he holds your body close, keeping you balanced on his skateboard as the late night breeze whisks through your clothes and the luminous shine that comes from the stars above makes him feel grateful for being here, with you. alone and together with no one to interfere.

VIL SCHOENHEIT AS

⤷ THE SCHOOL TRENDSETTER !

- as you may have guessed, the student who has the largest following in the entire student body. to help maintain his public image—he makes sure to arrive to school glammed up, with smooth and silky hair he applied the perfect fragrance of rosemary oil on to and his latest combination of outfits that’s bound to go viral both on magicam and in the school. he makes it a habit to bring along his miniature makeup pouch with him wherever he goes!

- instantly gets a whopping 100 views on his latest story he posted on his account about the most recent addition to the school cafeteria’s menu. he’s hyper-aware of his calorie intake, so he probably criticises it in the caption. “0/10. doesn’t make my ass fatter than it is now”

- sometimes has to leave mid-class to attend his monthly photoshoot session. there’s no doubt he’d be starting to pack his things during class and his classmates would already have an idea on where he’s about to go. the close circle of his friend group promises to notify him about the homework that’s going to be due soon, and he makes sure to blend them an incredibly tasteful smoothie he heard about not too long ago in thanks.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- it just had to be one of those days where you’re at your worst. vil can tell as much from your gloomy behaviour and sloppy appearance that does your figure no favours. though he lets out a disapproving click of the tongue, he places his hand on your shoulder, reassuring you that whatever you’re going through will come and go. 

- and, he hands out this one-of-a-kind opportunity to even purchase whatever apparel from the hottest brands that’s to your liking for you. who could ever ask for a better offer?

- if things are still dour, he lets you stay in his room for the night. the type of supportive friend (he hopes not for long?) to give you reassuring affirmations that whoever broke your heart doesn’t deserve you (and he does). he wants you to know that you’re ethereal just the way you are, and you shouldn’t downgrade yourself just because of somebody or something you can pass by. there’s some vinyls he keeps at a shelf at the side of his room,

if you want to play a song of your choice on the record player, he’s more than delighted to let you.

- when annual prom nights are going to take place a few days away, vil rings up his model agency to call upon another fashionista to help out with your outfit for the stirring night you can’t sit still for. converses with the right person they picked out and makes decisions set in stone, with the exact measurements that compliment your figure along with a flawless colour.

he takes the chance to do your makeup for you, and you can’t tell whether it’s because he’s taken familiarity with your visage or to just get his face closer to yours just to fluster you. you’ve taken a wild guess that it’s both.

- once prom is over and the crowd starts to clear out, vil books a cab back to his place so you two can have your well-deserved baths for as long as you want, accompanied by his endless supply of skincare products. he loves seeing you grow and blossom into a better person. he’ll make sure to do it alongside you, until he actually claims your heart.

ROOK HUNT AS

⤷ THE THEATRE KID !

- a cheerful soul who skips through the halls while humming a tune from one of the latest musicals he watched. his seemingly never-ending glee that lights the hallways up in an eye-blinding radiance is beyond people’s comprehension. rook, frankly, doesn’t mind the stares he gathers from such a spaced-out area, as long as he does his other theatre friends good in promoting the drama club.

- people mostly catch him hanging around in the auditorium, sitting with the other club members as they take out their practise on vocalisation and in depth emotion building. newcomers of the club deeply look up to him, as the most passionate member of the club where all the roles he’s taken on has made his heart soar above the clouds.

- one of the volunteers who helped in producing the script for the upcoming play the club is putting together. he advances in dramatising the scripts if they’re too flat in tone or feeling, even adding the most unnecessary dialogues of french, which the majority of the cast doesn’t even know a lick of. though, he makes a vow to them to teach it until they’re all absolutely wasted to the point where practise wouldn’t even be going anywhere.

- works hand in hand with vil behind the stage, who helps to sew up suitable costumes and applying the makeup for the cast in the makeover studio.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- it’s utterly embarrassing—but he vocalises ALL his poems and thoughts about you that he recited back at his place to prepare for the public audience. by audience, I mean everyone at the cafeteria.

he sings all of the praises he’s been holding in since the day he made mere eye contact with you while standing on an occupied table, most likely taken by the misfits. he sees it as his own individual stage and seizes the opportunity in his hands. you’re dying to go hide in the nearest restroom.

- encourages you to audition for the latest play his club is planning, (secretly) wanting you to take up the role that jointly has a special form of relationship with his! he gives an overly joyful “that’s up to the judges!” when you ask him who would be playing the other role. how many times has he made you uneasy again? (you don’t want to admit that you do enjoy being with him.)

- he’ll make sure to schedule a period off to help you practise and perfect the script that was chosen for you in the empty auditorium. he eagerly savours the time he gets to hear you, your beautiful voice, out loud, like never ending music to his ears.

- aside from the dorms, he lives in a multimillion neighbourhood, and he would be ecstatic to bring you over to his place anytime. you’re slack-jawed the second you enter his home, a wealthy interior designed by specially chosen professionals just for his house. he drags you by the wrist to watch the latest musical that was released in the theater that his family chose to install.

- so—the set of people who were chosen for the roles are out? you’re glad, but rook is a leaping ball of sunshine when he takes a glance at the name list (as if he didn’t play a part in convincing the judges one way or another). he genuinely cannot wait to see you shining so brightly on stage, as he prepares a divine bouquet of roses he’s planning to give you once it’s all over to congratulate you for all the untiring effort you’ve put into this play.

SILVER AS

⤷ THE FLOATER !

- luckily for him, he wasn’t the type of student who garnered much attention after being transferred to the school. he’s received some greetings by those who actually mean it, but all in all is content with where he’s placed in for now.

- being a regular loner has him sitting outside on the unoccupied bench for him to eat his lunch. a simple but memorable ham and cheese sandwich which he remembers getting spoiled with from his caretaker since early childhood. he holds everything they do immensely close to his heart, thankful for having the utmost kindest person in the world to look after him. he’ll make sure to pay back for everything he’s indebted to when he’s older.

- with restless desires to grow familiar with the school grounds, he takes a small walk to the library and school store to send a salutation to riddle, the boy who’s in the same year as him and the shop’s very own Mr. S, a guy who’s devoted a ton of his life to this shop. silver thinks about how there’s so many sentimental people who wander this school, a little of the opposite of his stone-faced persona.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- he’ll admit, he was slightly taken aback when you fearlessly took a seat next to him on the bench when he wasn't on guard. he jumps a little, thinking there was a nearby predator who was ready to pounce on him any second. but no—it was another regular student who roams the school halls like any other. he’s never seen you before despite being the one who joined the school later—in fact, he’s never really been with a familiar face other than sebek.

- but you just smile and giggle at him when you notice his lost nature. ah, he felt a flare of life ignite in him with such unforeseen kindness being thrown at him. there’s no doubt he's going to be the slightest bit wary of you, but you take his uninterested course of actions as a yes and stay by him for the rest of the period. 

- you don’t make voice the fact that it was you who carefully placed the bundle of flowers on his head when he fell asleep on the arm rest.

- after a few months of hushed whispers and note-sharing in the middle of class, he presents the idea for the both of you to own your own personal diary to journal your daily happenings. a secret note-taker, between two hearts that flicker with a hint of trust for the other.

you both enjoy reading what the other has written for the day, and silver hopes that he’ll be able to point out the tiniest bit of a confession you could’ve possibly written down somewhere for him, as much as how insensitive he is.

- while classes are out and people start to take their leave, you and silver are to stay back to dutifully complete your classroom cleaning before the next day of lessons. who knew such a mere task could put the both of you in a difficult situation? you both reach your hand out to grab the duster to wipe the board, only for your fingers to graze each other as a spark of electricity courses through your bodies, feeling warmer than ever.

- when you’re finally done, it coincidentally starts pouring out of the blue. with the both of you standing at the school entrance, silver strips off his cardigan and uses it to shelter you, holding your figure close as the both of you run in the rain like your lives depend on it. he wishes you didn’t have to arrive at a gazebo so soon, he still wanted to see you, in his clothes for as long as he wanted.

MALLEUS DRACONIA AS

⤷ THE (NOT SO) SECRET ADMIRER !

- often gets recognised for his godly visuals, though he doesn’t pay much mind to them? yes, he makes an effort to keep himself presentable as a wielder of royal blood, but he doesn't see all the craze over his face. his aloofness only makes people swoon over him even more.

- he’s rather quiet in these busy halls. he charmingly excuses the person who accidentally bumped into him head-first, proceeding with his walk until he arrives and stops in front of one particular locker. onlookers goggle absently, thinking about what he’s doing in front of another person’s locker? his is way further away than where he is, so what..?

- malleus sighs in contempt when the bell indicating the next lesson’s beginning rings.

- class is dismissed for lunch and stays glued to his seat as he pulls out an ancient history book to pick up where he left on. his table is uncluttered, and he places the well-researched tome on his desk as he starts reading through its contents once again. nobody is aware of his hidden yearning for a specific person to come running by, catching him in their view through the window, saying the most, honey-sweet “hello!” anyone could ever dream of.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- it’s not much of a secret admirer at this point, when it’s so glaringly obvious who it is. as if he was starring in a Hollywood film, glances at all directions in his way to make sure no one was present to disrupt this long-awaited momentum. once again, he stops by at your locker to open it and set down the letter, inside. one that was signed off with his initials as he positions an aromal rose just beside it.

- with the help of his relatives who are comfortable with internet devices—he’s able to search up the latest trends of deserts and lattes from the nearest coffee shop that’s located somewhere near. he’ll ask you if you’d like to journey with him into the city to a particular eatery that grasped his fancy, he assures you that he has the money, and he made sure to reserve a seat on the balcony as well.

- daily alone time with him in the music room as he gracefully plays the violin for you that only makes you swerve his lane even more. with the doors shut and the curtains closed—not fully as to block the outside light—the most euphonious tunes fill the dim lit room as pure gold spill over the strings. an individual performance he dedicated all and just for you.

- when the end of the school year is near, he readies himself to confess to you with all his body and soul. he takes it upon himself to call up a meeting with you outside of school in the evening, just when the glorious sun starts to set.

he talks his promise, rubbing your deathly cold hands in his, and voices his words of honour to make you the most fortunate person alive to be with him. who could ever ask for a better confession?