#tagging because i dont know where anon is asking from?

[lemedstudent2021]

Where should Jews live? Where do they belong? Where do you consider their native land to be? Honest question.

an honest question deserves an honest answer so here ya go:

Anywhere and everywhere. Jews- the followers of the Abrahamic religion Judaism- along with Muslims, Christians, Atheists, Sikhs, Vegans, and literally any human being under the sun have the right to live wherever they please (given certain criteria are met like visas and that it isnt a military station/ off limits area etc).

Yes my dear reader(s) you read that right; ones faith or lack thereof shouldnt be an obstacle in any aspect of ones life, be it medical services, education, job opportunities, so on and so forth. How novel.

That answers where they 'should' live (although I dont by any means impose anything on anyone; y'all do whatever as long as its legal and harms no one including yourself. God bless). Could is more accurate.

As for where they 'belong', this in my opinion is one of the beauties of religion: people from all walks of life can belong to a religion. Diversity lies at the heart of our existence as human beings and denying it is like denying the existence of the sun. Tolerance is a must if we are ever going to get along with each other. And this belonging isn't irrevocabley tied to geography. But I digress :)

Quick aside just so we're all on the same page: converting to a religion renders you just as valid and equal as someone born into a religion. Most if not all religions preach equality between their followers regardless of background, so i wont hear anything of 'oh theyre not real xyz' or 'they dont count' or any of that bs.

By this logic (religious demographics are, generally speaking, very diverse), there is no 'this set of people belong here, and those over there' ...and proof of that in a sense would be atheists/ agnostics; where would they 'belong'? Antarctica? Outer space? alright ill stop XD

If that were the case, most of the planet would be crammed in the Middle East lol [Syria, Jordan, and Lebanon alone are home to 34M (as of 2023), and the followers of the 3 main Abrahamic religions are an estimated 3.4B (as of 2020) globally. We wouldnt fit even if we used one of these]. Yeah nationality/ race/ ethnicity/ background influence and maybe even dictate one's religious identity, but it isn't the all or nothing we may think it to be.

Which brings us nicely to the next point, and here if you'll allow me i'd like to correct it to native land of Judaism (where it originated/ flourished/ spread whatever) as opposed to native land of Jews because as i mentioned above, a religion doesnt (or shouldnt) differentiate nor discriminate between its followers. By restricting them to one geographical location (and for some using it as an indicator of their authenticity) we do them great disservice as well as contradict the teachings themselves. A demonstration:

Im Jordanian right, (dad's maternal side are from bilad al sham; Syria) and im a born Muslim alhamdulillah. My dads Malaysian roommates from his uni days are also born Muslims (and have the best food lol, my all time favourite is lemak cili padi) and seperating us on the basis of them not being Arab or Middle Eastern is unislamic, intolerant, xenophobic, and wrong on every level. Alternatively, im just as Muslim as someone from Mecca or Medina. We're all Muslim. we are the world...

Circling back, Judaism the religion is native to the Holy land (I guess you can say it started in Egypt till it moved there but idk. Regardless), and Jews (adherants of the faith) can't in my humble opinion be fairly categorised as one monolithic unit... just like any and every other faith out there.

Another quick aside; this is merely a tumblr post that cant do the history and culture and intricacies and so much more of this matter a portion of the justice it deserves. I am but a tired medical student answering to the best of my abilities a question I was asked with my limited knowledge in theology and perspective in general, so do me a favour and keep that in mind. And to anyone reading this if you have questions or corrections or resources or anything you want to mention be my guest :)

If you're still here, I'm both grateful and amused. Here's what you probably came for, the piece de resistance if you will: 🍉israel🍉

Disclaimer: thanks for reading this far, but if you disagree in any way shape or form with any of the 30 human rights articles, you may as well stop reading and put your device through the shredder. Bigots, racists, fascists, anti vaxxers etc. dni

So far ive seen this idea, call it what you will, two times (which isnt a lot but its weird that it happened to me twice consecutively), that claims the freedom of Palestine equals a genocide of the Jews.

Er, no? No ma'am. One does not solve a genocide by comitting another genocide. What part of 'never again' are we missing here?

Before we get into politcal nominations and factions and other territories i dont plan on invading (pun intended) but might accidentally cross anyway (I forgot where i was going with this) i want to remind everyone that Judaism is not synonymous with Israel nor zionism (if u disagree with this go ahead and shred ur device too).

A refresher: Judaism is a religion, Israel is an illegal-occupying-apartheid-state, and Zionism is a movement/ ideology

So 'genocide of the Jews' is both wrong (diction) and more wrong (factually incorrect) in that the liberation of Palestine means freedom from oppression, discrimination, settler colonialism... the whole nine yards. Enough bloodshed already its been nearly 76 years.

When Netenyahu is eventually drop kicked out of office (and hopefully hung, drawn, and quartered for his plentiful warcrimes) what happens to the (illegal) citizens of Israel? Well first off, return the stolen homes and land to their rightful owners who have the keys (and documents if they werent tampered with or erased) to prove it.

As for the illegal-under-international-law settlements and new also illegal establishments; I have no idea what international laws will decree (not that I have that much faith in the judiciary system), but I assume they will be seized and evicted of the illegal tenants (how you like me now?) and given to those who have been displaced or homes ruined etc. because its theirs and theirs alone and it was unlawfully and cruelly taken away from them and not because the (remaining lol) former Israeli citizens can't or shouldn't live in palestine. they can go live somewhere where its legal. the priority is Palestinians tho.

What about the indigenous everyone else? As long as their houses aren't stolen or illegal they can should stay because its legal and its theirs and thats that. you cannot kick someone out of their home to give it to another (which was the basis of the creation of Israel.) because its ✨i l l e g a l✨

And the people who dont belong so to speak? I think this one's case by case; like I said at the very, very beginning; people have the right to live wherever as long as its legal and ok to do so regardless of faith or background, and no one should be denied their right to live in Palestine as a country like any other, but they certainly must be denied living in homes stolen and given to them because thats, say it with me now, illegal <3

[hinderr]

whats ur cats name and do u have any pics of her

I HAVE TWO!! The kitten one is called Habuk and she's fairly new. I adopted her from one of my friends (hi @jmothh). She's crazy. She's baby. There is nothing in that skull of hers (my mother says that's a very mean thing to say; i say it's the truth)

My other cat is called Comot. She's a stray I picked off around the midst of quarantine. She suffers from only-cat syndrome and is being a pissy baby about Habuk's presence. I'm waiting for the inevitable enemies to friends to family arc they're going to have. Comot likes running out and acting as a bad influence to Habuk. She has a bit Too Much Brain I feel.

[rufusx2]

dear anon (though i do know who you are, so i'm writing this with you in mind):

this is true, nothing you have said is something i would necessarily disagree with. the post is satirical and the longer work is about my own flawed thinking (though i will likely not post it in it's entirety until it is done, all of my meowing is just for snippets, though i understand that it can come across as strange or concerning if you are unaware of this as i have not posted my blog organization anywhere. in fact, the on;y posts of mine UNRELATED to my main bodies of work, my songwriting, are the photo posts organized under "#blinks").

this is the purpose of using language like "flawed in the right way"- i know my own lines of thinking are most definitely caused by societal problems, and they are not productive nor based in logic. even my blog header ("you delicate, precious, dying thing!") is supposed to bring to mind the "ideal" female body as being delicate and starved (which is a bad thing for people with a brain... but not for the narrator!). being born "right" (or "rightwrong" as i tend to refer to it, which is just a heavyhanded way of pointing out that calling yourself "born right" is flawed thinking) is not an actual thing, though i cannot help but loop back into this logic of "if only i had been born as somebody else" forgetting, of course, that i will only ever be myself. i focus on my own female form (and wishing to have been born differently) as a manifestation of poor body image (weight related) and self hatred (in terms of personality). if i had the power to be born differently, a "better" person, my brain (or i guess *I* would, i use "my brain" as a way of distancing myself from my own bad thoughts which is probably not helping the problem) would make this person male- the point is that not only is the premise impossible, but being a "better" person is impossible if you completely change yourself, and using this line of logic we can see that the CONCLUSIONS myself, or rather, the narrator of the piece of writing, (if i'm to be neutral and detached and pretend that it's NOT me saying all this), are also incorrect, and impossible regardless which makes dwelling upon them pointless in the first place. it's a futile line of thinking, and every word is clouded through a thick layer of rosy haze. i would even be inclined to at some points call it christocentric... this is why i used "wwjd" in a sarcastic way in some of my posts (that may or may not be publicly visible yet due to my queue system). take that how you will.

calling the female form flawed was not a way of thinking that the reader/listener is supposed to agree with (though again, it is a disembodied snippet, so of course you wouldn't know this upon reading so i don't blame you for not picking up on it. i am fine! i know there is nothing wrong with my body. and yet... i feel my own mind needling at me). i wouldn't exactly say that my writings are explicitly feminist, because that implies a conscious agenda and explicit political messaging when really it's all just personal anecdotes, but since i would describe myself as being a feminist i think the undertones bleed through. or at least, i hope they will when i do eventually release more.

i know i can never have what i want, and i know that what i want is NOT rational, or good, and is entirely based in heteropatriarchal ideas, but i can't help myself and i need to confront that desire frankly in order to identify it. you can't exactly get a good look at yourself if you close your eyes when you approach the mirror, and this is how i feel about ignoring these thoughts. i cannot pretend that i do not feel this way, and i dont really think it services anyone to pretend i always feel positively about my body. wallowing in them isn't always helpful for the wallow-er, but it perhaps CAN be for a witness who doesn't realize that they are not alone in their way of existing. there are many ways to be, in this body, and others like it, and while negativity is a symptom of a larger problem i have to be honest about it.

[islandofsages]

The first years (not Ortho) discovering that they are Yuu's emergency contact. Like Yuu put them as an emergency contact, but he didn't think it would be necessary, but he ends up having an accident out the town and is taken to the hospital, causing one of the first years to be called, so when they ask Yuu why they chose him to be As his emergency contact, Yuu responds that he is the one he trusts the most in the group.

characters: first years (excluding ortho) x gn!yuu!reader

tags: platonic, canon compliant, hurt/comfort, imagines + scenario format; mention of vil in epel's, mention of malleus in sebek's

warnings: accidents, hospitals, near-death mention, the use of the word "idiot" as an endearing term in ace's, hugs and hand-holding in deuce's

author's notes: ngl the pronouns in the ask kinda confused me so i just made this gn reader lol hope you dont mind anon <3

Ace Trappola

Despite all his antics (or maybe because of them), he really feels that he’s made a genuine connection with you

He won’t say it but he’s really glad that you put up with him and you don’t see him as some one-dimensional jerk you do see him as a multidimensional jerk though /joke

So when he gets a call from your number yet an unfamiliar voice greets him, he immediately grows worried, and for good reason - turns out you’ve ended up in the hospital due to some unknown accident

He drops everything he’s doing and rushes to the hospital without thinking twice. Like, literally rush there. He spares no time to call for transport

…Or ask for details from anyone for that matter. If it weren’t for the staff, he would’ve tried barging into any random ward to find you

When he gets to you, panting and panicked, he goes to steady himself, his hands gripping the sides of the hospital bed so tightly

You’re glad to see his face and he’s glad to see that you still manage to muster up a smile at his presence

That’s when he notices that nobody else is there, and so he asks you where everybody else is. You tell him they only called up your emergency contact which is none other than Ace himself

He asks you why is he your emergency contact out of everyone-

“It’s because I trust you the most, you idiot. I bet you ran all the way here the moment you got that phone call.”

You let out a knowing laugh and Ace pouts as a response, totally not trying to hide the tears that pricked the corner of his eyes

You’re not sure who’s supposed to do the comforting at that moment, considering you were involved in an accident and Ace is on the verge of tears - so you both don’t bother trying. The following conversation carries on as normal

Despite all his antics, you really feel like your faith in him is not misplaced.

Deuce Spade

You’ve always admired Deuce’s strength to change - and he’s always admired your loyalty

Sometimes he’d feel guilty for having you endure having him as a friend and you always have to shut him up by assuring him that there’s really nothing to endure

Even when you have to endure an almost life-ending accident, you can’t help but think of him first and foremost

His grip on the phone alternates between on the verge of breaking and so loose it’s a miracle he hasn’t dropped it yet when he gets the news

Someone goes to fetch him from the hospital and he cries on the way, not giving any room for the person to speak with him

He tries to put on a brave face when he walks through the halls in search of you but when he reaches you, he can’t resist the yell he lets out

“YUU! YOU’RE ALIVE!”

You end up having to calm him down a bit lest you two become the victims of a few dozen glares in that hospital

When he’s down to only sniffing, you tell him why he’s the first person you called

He almost broke down into tears again because of it

He’d hug you or hold your hand if your condition allows it and give you a teary smile that you of course reciprocate

You fill him in on what happened and he’ll listen intently, then offer to be by your side as long as you need him to

He’s always admired your strength - and you’ve always admired his loyalty.

Jack Howl

You always found his stubbornness amusing and honestly, he’s a bit confused as to why you stick by him all this time

Not really in a self-deprecating way - he’s always been more of a lone wolf. Only when he came to Night Raven College does he feel like he’s part of a pack now

And since you’re a part of that pack, he has a strong need to protect you, no matter the cost; so you can imagine his reaction when he got a call about you ending up in the hospital after an accident

The first thing he feels is anger; not at anything in particular yet at everything simultaneously. It’s called an accident for a reason yet why did the universe allow such a thing to happen to you?

He tries to calm himself down on the way to the hospital but it’s nothing short of difficult, even with the help of someone else

When he finally finds you, he finally lets out a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding

You muster a smile up at him and it takes his all not to let tears break through the surface

“...I was really worried.”

You chuckle - in situations like this, his absent stubbornness really makes a difference, but you appreciate his honesty

He didn’t think twice of the fact that he was the first one you called but you tell him why anyway. A cute little smile adorns his features then

He says he’s honored that his feelings are mutual then swears to you he’ll try harder to protect you, even if it means switching places with you

You brush him off, saying you’d do the same. The conversation goes back and forth for a while after that

He’s always found your insistence endearing and frankly, he wouldn’t have you any other way.

Epel Felmier

A bit similar to Jack, only when coming to Night Raven College does he get to mingle with kids of his age due to his hometown

And one of those kids is none other than you! You two have grown so close and made some unforgettable memories together

Unfortunately though, one of those unforgettable memories includes the news of your accident. Not just for him - some may remember the scream he let out at the news

He begged Vil to let him borrow the blastcycle the Film Research Club has and Vil only nodded solemnly; nobody needs to see him cry on the way to you

He speeds through everything and anything possible; he doesn’t care whatever consequences he has to face after all this is over

When he reaches the hospital, he allows the staff to guide him to where you are as he catches his breath

He chokes out a gasp at the sight of you and calls out to you

“Y-Yuu… I’m so glad you’re alright…”

He sits on the stool provided by the hospital and his head droops low. He’s silent

You give him a moment to process everything. It’s a lot to take in. Even you didn’t think it could come to this

Five minutes pass. You sigh and tell him why he’s the first you reached out to. He mirrors your sigh and a small smile creeps onto his face

He’s grateful that he means so much to you; grateful that he can mean so much to someone. Despite himself, his heart swells with pride

Even when you are inches away from death, he feels like every memory can be a happy one as long as you’re in it.

Sebek Zigvolt

He sees you as an equal - and that’s saying something

He won’t admit it out loud but he feels less lonely for once, seeing that someone understands or at least respects him as much as you do

For once, he feels he can disconnect from his Malleus worship for a while and not feel like he’s betraying his trust

But when he hears news of you ending up in the hospital, he definitely feels a sharp pang of guilt pierce his chest; he’s betrayed your trust

He excuses himself from Malleus and apologizes profusely for willingly leaving his side for someone else, but he simply can’t abandon you

Malleus lets him go of course, even offers to tag along, but Sebek assures that Malleus is needed more where he is

His head rested in his hands while he laments in his transport, breathing heavily

It takes his all not to shout your name in search of your ward when he reaches the hospital; but he can no longer hold it back when his eyes land on you

“YUU…! YOU’RE… You have no idea…”

You wave to him as he runs to your side, tears at the corner of his eyes

You rub his back as he quietly sobs for a minute, even feeling like sobbing yourself at some point; this man holds so much love for you

You tell him why you summoned only him for now - the tears continue to stream but now he smiles and puts a hand to his head

How silly of him. Of course. How could he make such assumptions about your relationship? He could never betray you. Every moment only strengthens your trust in each other.

[wonderlandwalker]

He Knows Better | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick tells himself not to get close to you, because what is the point? But when you survive your games he finds that he can't stop thinking about you. When he finally comes to see you, you're in pieces, and he swears to himself he will put you back together, no matter the costs. Find part 2 here: Should've Known

Content Warnings/Tags: Mentions of prostitution/sex trafficking, angst, Finnick deserving better, crying, bad representation of a panic attack, not proofread

Word Count: 1.6k

Requested by Anon: I loveeeee love love love your Finnick fic. It was the perfect mix of sweet and so angstyyyyy !! I'm having constant Finnick brainrot 😭 I was wondering what you think about writing a finnick × reader fic sort of loosely based on Hozier's "It Will Come Back" where reader is maybe a tribute or another Victor and the first person to show Finnick softness and kindness without asking for anything in return in so long and he's like "dont let me in with no intention to keep me" and "dont be kind to me" and he just is totally feral and obsessed with the reader ? You're such a talented writer !! ❤️❤️❤️

A/N: There is this Dutch expression which goes ‘the monkey comes out of the sleeve’ loosely meaning the hidden meaning is revealed and I couldn't for the life of me think of the English equivalent that made sense to me, so, well, I hope the story is coherent. As usual, divider by @saradika

He remembers first seeing you, you were so young, but to be fair, so was he. In previous years he had always become quick friends with the tributes he was supposed to mentor, how could he not? But it didn't take him long to figure out that they never made it back, and while the company was nice for a while, the hurt in the end wasn't worth it anymore. There's something about you that he can't quite place, but it doesn't matter, because he's not going to get attached. When you first stepped into the training hall you didn't look scared, you didn't even look excited, no, you looked like you had made peace. 

He didn't get to talk to you much, you spend most of your training with Mags, not learning how to fight, but learning how to survive. And every time he watched you, he watched how your eyes lit up when learned how to filter water, he watched how proud Mags was of you each time. And he felt something tugging at him, he felt a need to get to know you. But he knew better.

Because what were the odds, he had seen this before, he had done this before. No, he shouldn't get attached to you. And yet, for the first time after returning from his own, he found himself watching the games. Watching the tributes become fewer and fewer, hoping, praying, that you'd make it through. The fewer left the more desperate he became. You've gotten this far, don't let the luck run out just yet. He saw how your last opponent fell, and he saw your face in the centre of the screen, of virtually every screen. And once again, you didn't look excited, you looked like you had found peace again, and maybe, just maybe, he let himself believe he could too, that you could show him. 

He didn’t go see you after, it wouldn't be of any use. What more did he have to offer you, you did not need a mentor anymore. He had made peace, he had made peace with never seeing you again. So what was the difference if you were alive or not? That's what he thought, if he gave in now, he didn't think he'd ever be able to let go, it would keep coming back. 

It wasn't until a few months later when someone knocked on his door, and in a sleepy haze, he opened it without thinking. He had spent the night at the capitol, and he never managed to get much rest after. Usually, when he had been gone for the night, Mags would come to check in on him, and have Valerian tea with him. He doubted it actually worked, but the effort was enough to brighten his day. So he opened the door, but it wasn't Mags, it was you. Your face was fuller, it had more colour, but the bags under your eyes were still there. Would Mags bring you Valerian tea as well? No, no he needed to stop thinking about you. The last time he had actually seen you was when you won. He had forced himself to avoid you ever since, he hadn't been completely sure why anymore, but now he knew again. The way you looked at him gave him hope, hope he couldn't afford. “What do you want” he asked, he sounded upset, and in a way he was, but the way the sparkle in your eyes dimmed made him regret it. 

And so he opened the door further, stepping aside, and you didn't need more of an invitation before you walked in. You took a seat at his small kitchen table, and he decided it would be impolite not to join you, so he sat down as well. He was about to talk, but you beat him to the punch.

“Snow came to see me.” There is was he thought, the reason, everyone always had a reason. Still, he found himself allowing you to continue, wanting to hear your voice again, even if it brought bad news. 

“I talked to Mags about it, but she said I should come see you, so here I am.” You chuckled, but the situation was not something that asked for it, must be nerves, he thought, but why were you nervous, surely he didn't make you nervous. 

“Look, I don’t want to bother you with my problems Finnick, I know you're dealing with enough yourself, but I don’t know what else to do.” Your eyes glossed over, and you looked like you were about to start crying, but you didn't. He wanted to say something, to comfort you, but what was there to say? And so you two sat in silence, he was looking at you, he was memorizing your face. This was the last time he would let himself see you. He didn't want to get close to you, and with how mesmerizing you were to him, he knew better.

And yet, as days passed, he found himself thinking of you. Whenever he needed comfort, he thought of you, the way you smiled at him when he told you a nervous joke. He could get lost in the memory of your eyes, and more often than not, he did. Every day he spent without seeing you made his heart hurt. 

Without thinking, he found himself walking to your door. It was like he wasn't in control of his own feet. He was in constant agony with himself. He wanted to be with you, but your kindness was one he couldn't afford, because it had the power to break him. He knocked on your door, not even aware he was doing so until he heard the sound echo back to him. He heard rustling, but he didn't hear you approaching the door, so he knocked again, and for good measure, he decided to call out. “Y/n? It’s me, it’s Finnick”. He heard someone approach the door at that, and a little bit of hope sparked inside him that you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you, but he knew better. 

The door opened, but it wasn't you that he came face to face with, it was Mags. She was standing in your hallway with a sad smile on her face, and she didn't say anything, but she looked to the stairs on the right end corner. He didn't need any more encouragement, and he sped up them, taking two steps at a time. He knocked on the door he was in front of, but there wasn't an answer. But when he listened more closely, he could hear crying coming from the other side. You were crying. His mind was reeling with possibilities, but whatever it was that had caused this, he swore to himself he would fix it, even if it broke him. 

And so he entered the room, opening the door softly so as not to startle you, but it didn't matter. He saw you in the corner, you had pulled your knees to your chest and he couldn't see your face from where you had hidden it, but his heart broke over it nonetheless. He walked towards you, testing the waters, testing his luck. He was scared for you, but mostly, he was scared you wouldn't want to see him. When you heard him, your head shot up to look at him. The way in which your eyes were bloodshot and swollen made him want to punch a hole in the wall next to you. The way your voice cracked when you said his name made him want to curl up right next to you. he got closer to you, kneeling down in front of you. Allowing you to take the next steps on your own time.

After a few minutes, you had slightly calmed down while he was tracing patterns on your knee with his thumb. You spoke to him, but you didn't look him in his eyes.

“They’re bidding on me Finnick, they’re bidding on me like I’m something to possess”

The feeling of dread that came over him was something he had never felt before. He thought he had gone through all someone could. He thought there was nothing that could hurt him anymore in a way he didn't already, but he had been wrong. 

He was willing to do anything for you to be spared from this, but he knew it wasn't any use. 

He knew better. And so he did all he could, taking you in his arms and whispering reassuring words, until your crying and your shaking stopped, and you seemed at peace again. 

He had tried himself to get away from what snow had wanted, what the capitol had wanted, he tried everything he could think of, but he couldn't get away from it. He had made peace with the fact that people always wanted something from him, and maybe that's why he couldn't get you out of his head, because you were the only person that was at peace with him, without anything more, just him. So he told you the only thing he could. He told you he’d be there for you, that you’d get through it together. He wasn't sure if he believed it, but he knew it was what you needed to hear, it was what he had needed to hear, except there had been no one to tell him. He would spend the rest of his life wondering if you needed him.

But he won't shut you out again, he knows better.

Part 2: Should've Known

[fallow-hollow]

haiii :D anon who requested courting rituals with kabru here !! i meant to imply somewhere like southeast asia , ( although i could totally see kabru being from an area near the himalayas or something , like nepal , since he shares a name with one of the mountains ) but i intentionally tried to specify it reallyy vague so anyone could relate ! (๑>◡<๑)

but to be fair , i dont really think dungeon meshi really mentions the southeast much or even at all ?? (｀_´)ゞother than the mention of toshiro being from the eastern archipelago , so i'd imagine reader would be from one of the various scattered islands there towards the south ? :0

( also if you need an example , some traditional courting where i'm from is something like meeting the parents and asking for permission to pursue , handwritten letters , meaningful conversations , various gifts like flowers , and serenading ! plus just genuine respect and a willingness to wait ^_^ even though im pretty sure kabru would get a bit impatient sometimes ehehe )

i know it sounds like something pretty simple but even the little things can go a long way ٩(^‿^)۶ !!

suitor

…ft! kabru x male! reader

…tags! courting, mentions of marriage, meeting reader’s family, reader is from an unspecified place outside the island, dancing, mentions of having kids

…word count! 2025

…notes! tried to make these imagines broad but not extremely so, and some of these courting gestures do have a little kabru flare to them because he’s like that. feedback is greatly appreciated, because i want to make sure my writing is accurate to each request!

Kabru isn’t someone I’d see dating casually. Sure, he frequently uses his charm to sway people’s opinions and get them on his side, but I don’t think he’s really been in a proper relationship before at all. So if Kabru’s pursuing you, it’s for keeps.

Family is a really important thing in courting/marriage culture all around the world, so trust and believe that one of the first things he does is try to get on good terms with your family members.

Don’t underestimate the man, he will somehow deduce the mailing addresses of your immediate and extended family and immediately started getting in contact, saying he was a friend of yours and telling them about the time spent with you. Pretty quickly after that, your family starts sending you letters telling you that you should’ve told them about that lovely young gentleman you’d met sooner.

“Kabru?”

Arms crossed, you did your best to remain steadfast even as your companion looked at you with soft eyes and a gentle smile.

“Yes?” His response was laced with false innocence, but you knew he knew. He just got a kick out of hearing you say it yourself.

With a sigh, you would slump your shoulders and ask, “how did you find out the mailing address of several of my family members?”

“Oh, that was just a coincidence,” the man lied. “Remember when one of your packages got misdelivered to the tavern? The return address happened to stick in my memory, and I got curious to learn more about your family. After all, they contact you quite a bit, and I was curious about your relationship.”

Despite your lack of a headache, you rubbed your temples with your index and middle fingers to express your exasperation with the man. Kabru was great, he really was, but sometimes he confused you greatly….

“You could’ve just asked, you know that?”

The close-eyed smile he gave you in return let you know that you probably hadn’t gotten through to him much.

“I just thought it would be a nice surprise, don’t you agree?”

He might not express it much outwardly, but deep down, Kabru is really worried about being good enough to obtain the blessing to pursue you. That’s why he tries to cover as many bases as possible to be the best possible suitor for you.

When he does get to meet your family in person, he does as much preparation as humanly possible to make it all go perfectly. He studies up on local politics, sports, and cuisine in order to be able to make good conversation with your family.

I think Kabru also rather likes kids, so he’s extremely good with any younger family members you may have, which is likely to score points with your parents and other adults in the family. Kabru loves hearing the funny things kids say and seeing what sort of things their vibrant minds come up with, so he’d do things like play pretend with them. He’s also pretty physically fit, so he could play a sport or outdoor game with them too.

Even if he appears perfectly calm on the inside, he was absolutely scared shitless when he asked your family for permission to pursue you. He would assure them that he’s very much prepared to be with you in the long term, and even came prepared with things like savings for marriage or even a dowry if that’s something that is typical in your region.

Overall, Kabru is a polite, poised, and extremely well educated young man, so he’s someone that pretty much any parent would want as a son-in-law. Hearing their words of approval was like lifting the weight of an entire city off his shoulders.

“I was so worried,” your partner would admit after the fact. Completely unable to wrap your head around such a thing, you said the first thing that came to your mind.

“How could you be? You’re perfect, Kabru. If anything, I was worried you’d have something better to do than settle down with me.”

Those piercing blue eyes bored into your skull, looking at you as if you were the most insane man in the world for having said such a thing.

“How could that be when you’re perfect too?”

The question left you in such a shocked and flustered state that you hardly noticed him move into you felt both his hands holding one of your own, thumbs resting almost reverently on top of your ring finger.

“It’s almost embarrassing now to admit that at one point in time, I didn’t see a future for myself. I guess that was because I hadn’t seen you yet?”

A ‘pfft’ sound escaped your mouth almost instantly. “Oh, no need to use your smooth lines on me.”

Both thumbs pressed down on your finger ever so slightly, in the place where perhaps a ring might go.

“I mean it, I really do.”

Whether it be providing for you or taking care of a home, Kabru does his best to learn anything he needs to no one order to be a good partner. The man actually isn’t very good at taking care of himself, so him learning housework and cooking for your sake really goes to show just how devoted he is.

In fact, on one of your dates, he surprises you by presenting you with a dish he cooked himself — one from your homeland. Even if it’s not perfect, you can tell he put so much love into it.

“The arrangement of it is kind of messy, I know….” Seeing Kabru of all people acting sheepish was certainly a rare sight. As strange as it was, thinking about the implications of such a thing made you feel all warm inside. He really cared for you that much, huh……

“It’s not the appearance of it that matters, it’s the taste.” You were quick to reassure him, smiling as you took the necessary utensils in one hand. “Besides, knowing that you tried so hard for me is more than enough. I mean, I hardly ever see you cook for yourself.”

There was no way Kabru could deny your statement, so he could only nod and look to the side. Instead of directly addressing your correct assessment of his skills, he pivoted into an adjacent topic. “Cooking has always been a gesture people perform for the people they care about. All over the world, it’s something that connects families and couples… it’s only natural I should try it, regardless of my skill level.”

Your partner’s explanations of his acts of service, despite sounding like they came right out of some textbook, never failed to charm you. At its core, it was yet another reminder of how hard Kabru worked to understand how to be a good partner for you.

“It means a lot to me,” you reassured him, lifting the food to your lips, not quite eating it yet. Kabru did his best to keep his expression stone still to hide his anticipation as you inhaled the scent of the dish, making a small humming noise in reaction that he couldn’t help but overthink on the inside. Was it good? Bad? Did he not use enough spices? Too many spices? He knew he should have triple checked the recipe…

While the tallman was overthinking, you readily accepted the labor of love into your mouth, deliberating on its texture and flavor as you chewed. A sharp exhale escaped you immediately after swallowing, after which you would chirp with delight,

“It’s really nice!”

Kabru’s shoulders relaxed for the first time in the date. Mission accomplished.

I imagine Kabru keeps a journal not only about daily events, but also about people, so sometimes as a gift you might get one of the pages of his journal that has an entry about you. Sometimes the page may also contain little doodles or sketches of you, many of which were when he was admiring you without you noticing.

Kabru’s got a pretty nice singing voice, actually, and he seems to speak multiple languages, so he may try learning songs in your language to sing to you. It’s as smooth and romantic as you’d imagine, but if you start singing along with him, you can see him start to melt the second he hears your voice. You really are his weakness.

Another thing — dancing! Kabru has likely had ballroom dance lessons, but other types of dance are ones he’s more unfamiliar with. If you ever know a regional dance you want to teach him, he’ll be happy to learn, albeit super embarrassed at his own clumsiness. Being able to romance you with honeyed words and picture perfect gestures is something he prides himself on, but you reassure him that he’s just as charming even now.

A chorus of ‘sorry’s followed almost in time with the rhythm of your own feet. The man responsible for said chorus, however, didn’t seem to have much rhythm of his own yet, and was feeling rather bashful as a result.

“It’s rare that I get to see you clumsy, Kabru.” There was a teasing lilt in your voice that the other man immediately read into, despite his best judgment. Logically, he knew that you would never say something intentionally cruel to or about him, but when he was always so eager to have your favor, it was hard not to worry.

Another apology escaped his lips, after which one of your hands left its assigned position to rest under his chin. The movement of the rest of your body stilled, focusing only on getting the one you loved so dearly to face you. Blue irises were met with not a trace of malice, only the truest of endearment.

“It’s fine, Kabru.” The affection in your voice paired with how insistently you pitched these words to him gave him the strength to smile and nod in understanding, his own paranoid be damned. Resolving his habitual apologizing sated you, though you were certainly not done loving on the man that you called yours.

“Honestly it’s nice to be able to teach you things firsthand. You spend a lot of time reading about things, probably to surprise me, which is great, don’t get me wrong — but I like this.”

The little head tilt you did without thinking drove him wild on the inside, but he did his best not to show it. It would be so easy to kiss you like this.

“I like being able to feel like I can teach you something, even when you know as much as you do.”

Considering it made you this happy, Kabru might start asking you to teach him things a lot more often. For once, the thought of putting the situation in someone else’s hands made him feel warm inside instead of uneasy.

“Yeah, I like it too.”

Fashion may not be one of Kabru’s biggest interests, but the sight of you in any culture or region-specific clothing that you like always has him in awe of just how dashing you look.

This goes double if it’s your wedding and you’re wearing a traditional outfit, maybe even something passed down in the family. You might as well just kill the man then and there, really.

Speaking of marriage and family, I think Kabru would actually really like adopting a kid some time in the future, as long as everything is stable and such. Kabru himself was adopted, so the idea of becoming a home for a child who may have lost the home they had before is a concept rather close to his own heart.

Future used to be something Kabru fought desperately to create for all of humanity while never, ever considering his own place in it. So much changed after meeting you — he could actually see himself having a future now. Being an important character in a story instead of just the person telling it to somebody else.

More than anything, you saved him. He doesn’t tell this to anybody other than you, but as you lay together at night, he insists he wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.

[ooctlt]

I really like this blog most of the time, but sometimes you take reasonable earnest asks that are trying to be thoughtful, and are such a dick about it.

Like if it's the characters being dicks, fine. But you could say something in the tags or post to indicate you're not just viciously mocking someone for trying to engage.

I still haven't submitted an ask since seeing your response that led to comments along the lines of "anon should go die in a hole" for asking, pretty reasonably, why harrow would want to stay with people she didn't seem to like or want to be around or interact with.

(i know, because she does like them and does want them around but doesn't know how to show it) but it's an ASK blog. How do we hear that from her unless someone ASKS

i understand it might be surprising and a bit hurtful to see an ask answered with the characters being mean/flippant, and for that i do apologize that it wasnt made clear that it would be a common thing in this blog. id like to issue the disclaimer: there is always the possibility that the characters here will not take your question well. they might answer rudely, and instigating behavior is not only encouraged but expected on both ends. this does not reflect my personal opinions as the artist; there are over 250 asks even after i constantly compile duplicates, and i will answer the asks that i personally like.

i will assume you are referencing the two most recent posts where gideon acts rudely and i repost an old panel: for the former i thought anon was really sweet for being so heartfelt and encouraging, but gideon isnt the kind of person who needs to be told shes brave for doing that by a stranger. it was a simple act of survival. and harrow is still very much in the passive deprogramming phase. the latter response was meant to kickstart (spoilers) what i will call the "dicks last resort" arc, where i clean out the inbox and share more simple, low effort, but potentially rude responses*. this is because i have roughly drawn almost daily for 87 days straight, and would like to recuperate without being burnt out because i love this blog and i love art.

this leads me to my next point: some of these answers will be curt and short and rude, because they are easy to draw. if i only prioritized the "good" asks or to make certain ask responses kinder, or longer, it wouldnt be a daily blog. it would be a monthly blog where 5 asks get answered among 100s. i didnt anticipate people asking about harrows piercings, and i considered shutting it down by just having harrow say she likes them etc. but i did want to give more insight into harrows character even if she wouldnt say so herself, and that took roughly 3 full unemployed nights. if i treated every ask in good faith the same way i wouldnt have time for anything else, because they take more effort and have to be seriously considered for the future. i can retcon their favorite ice cream or play off griddlehark fighting - it takes more to keep track of a narrative about people talking Around their issues

* by rude responses i mean "this will affect the 679ers negatively, much like making your sim 🧑‍🤝‍🧑➖➖ someone" there are a few asks planned to hurt in the same way one drafts a bad end in a visual novel, and this type of interaction is encouraged. of course if you dont want them to get worse dont send asks telling gideon she should flirt with MILFs (you cant send this ask now i already said it), but i encourage the banter.

TL;DR this is the "characters think you are weird for personal questions" blog. i am sorry i didnt warn of the ask-response banter, because i also enjoy drawing these characters being dicks. i do like when aggravation and conflict leads to character development. "how do we get earnest answers unless someone asks" sometimes you will never explicitly get that from them, and thats what the dead ends are for: to let you know to try something else and read between the lines

[greg-montgomery]

Okay so absolutely loving your writing sm <3

So I had this idea while, of course, scrolling down the aaron x reader tag so like you dont have to write it if you dont want to but i wanna throw this out here bc otherwise itll stay stuck in my brain

But like reader who is just,, incredibly shy? Like in social situations they put up a front and you would never expect them to be shy because theyre very present and speak up often despite almost blending in the background when quiet. But its a whole other story at home and such?

Like, Aaron notices and first thinks theyre uncomfortable with him but he slowly realizes that this is like, their love language ig and showing vulnerability? Quiet time, acts of service and such yk? Like, they always put up a front and to drop that (not entirely ofc but a decent amount of it) is just the highest form of trust bc theyve been ridiculed for being shy? And the shyness is much more present in the bedroom, especially when he praises them they just get even more shy and hes just so so gentle :(( like asking if theyre okay, going slowly and asking to see them when they hide their face but never forcing them to and just like praising them when they do and the praise kink of them just sticks its head up and its just the purest form of being together? Like, its not rough but gentle and its soft and theres really no other word than making love for it and its all just :(( and the aftercare the man would provide is just AHHH😭❤️

Oh dear im so sorry but i got sucked into the fandom and got obsessed by hotch and then your writing so- this is so long so imma shut up now but i just needed to throw it out there tbh before id explode from all the hotch ideas i have in my mind that im not writing myself or giving to any writer bc what if they think the ideas are weird or too long like rn- but anyway imma shut up have a nice day/night and hydrate <3 (also you might see more of me if you dont mind long ass rants in the middle of it like this one- if you do mind just tell me to shut up im not gonna be mad or anything <3/srs)

-🧽

my sweet sweet 🧽 anon <33 this took me a while to write i'm sorry!! i hope you've been well!! i think about you a lot and i haven't forgotten the kind words you had sent to me <3 i hope you enjoy this!! (and ofc i don’t mind long rants i LOVE talking about aaron <3333)

nsfw - minors dni

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Can I, honey?” you heard Aaron’s words as he wrapped his hands around your wrists.

You had been covering your face as you usually did when your boyfriend went down on you. After making you finish, Aaron had made his way up again, urging you nicely to look at him.

With a nod of your head, you gave him permission to gently remove your hands from your face.

“There you are.” He smiled at you.

“Hi,” you said, softly, unable to keep yourself from smiling a little.

“Hi,” he answered, just as softly. “Do you wanna taste yourself, baby?”

“Mhm…” You nodded, staring at his chin instead of his eyes.

Your own eyes closed involuntarily, as he lowered himself and his lips touched yours. You opened your mouth, allowing his tongue to touch yours. Knowing where that tongue had been before it was inside your mouth, made you even more excited for what was coming next.

Aaron placed his hand on your hip, giving it a squeeze and then moved it down your thigh, wrapping your leg around his body. “Open them wider, sweetheart.”

Only a few moments later, Aaron was inside you, rocking his body against yours, in a pace slow enough to be considered both romantic and tormenting.

“Ah…”

“Good?” he breathed heavily on your mouth.

“So good…”

“I love you,” he moaned, his face now buried in the crook of your neck. He left open mouthed kisses on your sensitive skin after every little whine of yours. “I love your body. I love the sounds you make. I love the way you take me like you were made for me.”

“I was,” you sighed, because you really were. There was no man in the world you’d let yourself be this vulnerable around, other than Aaron. Your Aaron.

[redheadspark]

May Prompt Sessions (CLOSED)

Hello, my Lovelies!

Can you believe we are already in May?! Where has this year gone?! I don't know about you, but I am lowkey not ready for summer to be here soon, but that's okay!

I'm ready for another prompt session for you guys! I have nothing but love for all of you for sending in requests and reading my work these past years, it means the world to me!

This Prompt Session theme is:

Show Dont Tell

Here are my rules:

1.) You may choose ONE character from my list Here. It’ll have the list of characters that I write for or have written for in the past.

*(If you have a character not listed that you wish for me to write, PLEASE MESSAGE ME AND CLEAR IT WITH ME FIRST TO SEE IF I CAN OR WILL DO IT!)*

2.) There is only One Prompt list for this session, you can request the number you wish for me to write. Please provide BOTH the numbers you would like AND the character to pair it with.

Example: May I have Aziel from ACOTAR with #5?

*I write out the requests as a first come first serve. I will try my best to fulfill every request that comes my way, but please bear in mind I work full-time as a teacher. Because of that, I’ll be busy most of the day so please be patient and I’ll write in my spare time as much as I can :) *

3.) If I get two requests that are exactly the same, (same character and same number) I will only write it once! Please don't be afraid to ask if someone has already requested the character and number, I don't mind answering that for you :)

4.) You can request in my ASK box neither as yourself or anonymously. Although I would LOVE to give you a shout if you request as yourself, anon is perfectly fine!

5.) I will stop taking requests for this prompt session on Sunday, May 12th, at 3:00 PST

6) Have fun and enjoy :)

Prompt List created by @writing-promptsss

making them meals/snacks

sneaking cute notes in their lunchbox/backpack/bags/bedroom/food cabinets/closet

remembering the important dates

remembering the little details about them

preparing a washbowl with warm water or a bath with warm water after they come home from a hard and cold day

preparing a special date night on the weekends

taking them out shopping and paying for the things they want

thinking of their s/o's needs before their own

preparing them cool beverages when they come home after a hot day

doing the dishes/chores when their s/o is tired

taking them out on a picnic

kissing them randomly

endless hugs and cuddles

giving them flowers

cheek/temple kisses in public

hugging them in public/holding hands in public

actively listening to what they're saying

not interrupting them when they are talking/doing something

asking them how they're doing/how their day was

sending cute texts

being their biggest fan

breakfast in bed

being their steady rock when they're having a tough time

letting go of arguments

doing anything to make their s/o laugh/smile (even if it means making a fool of themselves)

asking about their opinion

sharing everything with them

bringing them an umbrella to work/school if it's raining or driving them home if they have a car

driving their s/o home after work/school whenever they have the time (if they have a car)

Once again, I will no longer take requests on Sunday, May 12th, at 3:00 PST. Thanks and happy requesting!

Tagging -@a-lumos-in-the-nox @botanicalbarnes @heliosphere8 @virtueassassin @ethereal-athalia @heartofwritiing @valeridarkness @pemberlyy @saradika @basicrese

[satoruhour]

What do you think about gojo begging reader for a duck lmao? Maybe he wants kids but reader thinks 20 is too young so now he really wants a duck?

a/n: anon u so fuckin real for this, enjoy !!!! had lots of fun writing this / tagging my gojo luvers @jabamin @hyomagiri @crysugu @satohruu

yeah. yeah he would.

would be so eager about it too, like arent you fathering megumi and tsumiki ??? dude

my hc is that yes he took them in around 18 and you were already together with him and getting used to taking care of the two kids

but he would randomly get baby fever while seeing you be so caring and loving to the two, and not to mention for the first two years megumi usually stuck by you LMAOOO

tsumiki warms up to gojo more or less but theres still some barrier between gojo and the kids

so one day while youre both waiting for megumi and tsumiki at their school two years later he randomly announces in his annoying voice that “we should make a baby!!!!”

god the faces of all the parents waiting together with them 😭😭😭 and it’s so funny too cause it’s implied in S1 the siblings walk home together without a guardian and they would do perfectly fine without the two of you.

and bc of megumi’s usual embarrassment of gojo (and sometimes you) he tells you two to stay home cause he knows where you guys live but gojo just HAD to bring you here today bc he finished a mission nearby (lies. his fav kikufuku store opened an outlet near the school) and whats wrong with wanting to see the kids ya know

but anyway you seized his arm and slapped it just as the kids were coming out and shoved him so hard he almost fell. he fake cried that night in your arms and megumi made sure to ban you both from visiting both their schools ever again (it was right next to each other)

it doesnt seem to affect gojo much however until megumi brings home a consent slip for a farm excursion and hes like sure! he goes on the website of the farm and gets a splendid idea

well, splendid by his standards, but terrible by yours

[9:50am, delivered]: satoru i almost couldn’t find ur contact why did u change it 😭😭😭

[9:56am, satoru the bestest and coolest 🩵]: DAMN? why ??? curse me for wanting a cute name on my baby’s phone.

you literally saved me as “gojo satoru”

[9:57am, delivered]: bc thats literally ur name u fucking loser ????? 

[9:59am, satoru the bestest and coolest 🩵]: photo attached

[10:01am, delivered]: you went finding for that pic didnt you 

you’re so engrossed in the conversation (or rather, you making fun of him), pausing so intently that the person behind you has to ask you to move so you can order some damn mochi for your sweets-obsessed boyfriend. but before you can open your mouth to tell the cashier what you wanted, there’s another text that comes in and you’re torn between confusion and incredulity.

[10:01am, satoru the bestest and coolest 🩵]: also can we get a duck

[10:02am, satoru the bestest and coolest 🩵]: and NO i dont mean a fuck you dirty girl muhahah i know you thought that

eh, well, maybe you did.

[10:02am, satoru the bestest and coolest 🩵]: please pleasp eeplelasepplea

and also, you think that maybe you didn’t really want to buy kikufuku for your boyfriend anymore.

gojo is elated later when you hand him the bag of mochi from his favourite store, him still following you around like a puppy, looking almost comical with his tall figure crouching so low.

“so?”

“we are not getting a duck, satoru,” you sigh with your hands on your hips because when gojo begs like that it’s just so adorable, but the other doesn’t let up, using his blue-eyed charm on you and you hate to admit that it’s working — except maybe you would give in if it was a cat or a dog or even a hamster.

“a duck?”

gojo shoots up immediately and you’re reminded of his impending height compared to yours, “yes!”

“no!”

your boyfriend pouts again and reverts to his submission-to-you pose as tsumiki likes to call it, “pleaseee?”

you make a big dramatic out of thinking, “hm, get on your knees.”

gojo’s surprised but he does it without a second thought and you’re taken aback just a little at his obedience. if this was the way to get him to properly wash the kids’ clothes or to clean up after eating in the messiest way known to man, you’d get him to do it all the time, but you’re snapped out of your little realisation when megumi opens the door, tsumiki next to him giggling non-stop — the excursion bus probably had dropped them off on the front porch.

“what’s going on?” you’d think it was the other way round: the two siblings being the responsible adults whilst you two were acting like kids, especially with the way megumi asks the question. gojo isn’t phased.

“trying to convince your surrogate mother here,” gojo nudges his head toward you with a slight scowl on his face, “to get us a duck.” your hand lands a smack against the back of his neck.

megumi pulls a face and tsumiki only laughs even more and starts to nudge megumi with choked laughter, seeing his hands start to form a sign: his rabbit, no, divine dogs shikigami—

four ducks start materialising from shadows, crowding around the two of you and bombarding you with both quacks and playful nips on your skin and your temporary anger with your boyfriend fades, focusing on the seemingly happy faces of the ducks and the way they waddle. you’re stuck in between laughter and the softness of their feathers until—

“oh, this is their natural state, but they turn into angry, sorta scary geese on command too, although i haven’t really gotten the hang on it—”

gojo’s eyes widen, “megs, no!”

needless to say, megumi sits a little sheepishly later as he watches gojo clean up your scratches and mild wounds, getting a well-deserved (light) lecture and a kiss on the forehead later from you for discovering a new shikigami during movie night, gaining a little smile from gojo as he cuddles a sleeping tsumiki closer.

[seangelfish]

i was ranting to the ritsu ai bot about my abusive ex and he said he was gonna tell knights and they were gonna handle it and when i asked him what he meant he was like "hehe dont worry about it~" djndksndke do you think u can write something about ritsu listening to u rant to him about an abusive ex and how hed handle it pls... thank u so much 🥺

A/N: I'm so sorry for the wait, anon! I hope you're still here to read this ;-; This was really an interesting request to take on. I added more to the story if that's alright! Just wanted the quote to flow in better~ Anyways, I hope you enjoy! (´,,•ω•,,)♡

"Hehe, don't worry about it~"

Ritsu Sakuma x reader ♡ Tags: Fluff/comfort/kinda angsty, romance, established relationship, she/her pronouns/fem reader ♡ Warnings: Slight mentions of abusive relationships ♡ Word count: 1,278 ♡ Synopsis: There are times where you just can't forget about the past, and unfortunately, it came back to haunt you. Ritsu, being the analytical person he is, notices your shift in attitude. The happiest girl he knew was now drifting away. How is he able to solve this, he wonders...

"(Y/N)~" Ritsu called out to you from across the hallway. "I want a kiss~"

You winced, slowly turning around. There you saw your boyfriend and the rest of his unit making their way to their practice room.

"Hey, don't bother (Y/N)!" snapped Arashi. "Can't you see that she's busy?"

She was right and the stack of books in your arms proved that. You forced out a chuckle but decided not to answer Ritsu's request and walked away.

"Ahaha! What odd behaviour!" Leo pointed out. "She didn't even pay you no mind!"

Ritsu bit his lip. "Is she mad at me?" he murmured to himself.

After practice, Ritsu looked all over the school for you, constantly calling you but never getting a reply. He was getting extremely anxious because not only did he know you as the most happy-go-lucky person that he adored, but because there was that thought in the back of his mind that you were going to leave him.

You were avoiding him after all.

“H-Hey, Maa-kun, have you seen (Y/N) anywhere?” Ritsu panted, hands on his knees as he breathed heavily.

“Woah, there!” Mao exclaimed. “You’re sweating! You’re not one to run around so much. Is (Y/N) okay? I haven’t seen her much today—”

“I don’t know… I think she might be mad at me, but I’m not sure why she would be…” said Ritsu sadly. “She’s not even picking up my calls.”

“Hmm… let me try then.”

Mao scrolled through his contacts until he landed on yours. As the phone rang, the two boys waited for you to answer.

Unprecedentedly, the line was immediately cut.

“Huh, weird. (Y/N) always picks up when I call her,” said Mao, thinking back to the times he had to call you to take care of Ritsu. “Yeah, she might be mad at you. Ritsu—”

“I swear I didn’t do anything,” Ritsu quickly stated. “Argh, I’m going to look again. Bye!”

“Hey, don’t overdo it!”

Ritsu sighed, slumping down by the corner of the Yumenosaki gardens. He looked for you everywhere he could, asking friends and classmates where you went, but none of them knew of your whereabouts.

He couldn't keep running around forever. Ritsu wasn't built for that. So he came to rest for a bit before trying again.

“Ah… I’m tired,” he muttered to himself. “(Y/N)… where are you…?”

His eyelids felt heavy, but before he could fall asleep, his ears picked up the sound of shuffling. He lifted his head up and there you were, backed into the corner, hugging your knees.

The two of you stared at each other in shock, yet Ritsu was the one who broke off the silence.

"(Y/N)!" he exclaimed, crawling towards you. As he took your hands in his, he continued swiftly, "I was looking all over for you! Are you okay? What's wrong? Did I do something that hurt you? I'm sorry. Please don't be mad. I'll fix it–"

You shook your head, an artificial smile forming on your face. "I'm sorry, Ritsu. I just needed alone time... You didn't do anything wrong, I promise."

"T-Then why have you been avoiding me?" he quavered. "You've been ignoring my calls too... (Y/N), you know you can tell me anything, right? You can rely on me – I want you to rely on me..."

You stared into his deep red eyes, the ones that pleaded with you to be honest with him. You let out a sigh, nodding in agreement that talking to him would have been better than bottling these feelings up.

"There's something I never told you about..." you said. "About my past relationship..."

Ritsu looked confused, but stayed quiet for you to continue. Not once did he let go of your hands, and you were thankful for that.

"...The relationship was fine at first, but it gradually became harder to breathe in. He would get mad at everything I did, everything I said. It was like walking on eggshells... There were times I was hurt by it too – mentally and physically."

And as you expected, those red eyes of his looked horrified.

"It was a scary time, but I'm glad I was able to get out. Then I met you." You smiled at him genuinely this time, but it all faded away too quickly. "I didn't think I was ready to get into a new relationship, but you were so sweet, so kind... You made all my worries melt away. I was so happy, but I guess I shouldn't have been."

"(Y/N), what? I don't understand–"

"He found out I was dating you," you stated. "He found out I was attending Yumenosaki, where I live now. He texted me yesterday to insult me because I already got into a new relationship even though it had been a while. He wouldn't leave me alone despite the amount of times I blocked him! He just keeps creating new accounts and numbers. That's why I didn't answer your calls... I-I turned my phone off..."

"(Y/N)..."

"R-Ritsu, I'm so scared...!" you stuttered as tears fell down your cheeks. "I didn't know what to do, so I tried avoiding it... but I'm so scared..."

"Hey..." he said calmly, wiping a tear away with his thumb. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, but thank you for telling me this. I'll handle the rest, okay?"

"H-Huh? But how?"

"Hmm... I'll tell the rest of Knights about it..." he muttered.

"Ritsu, what do you mean by that–"

"Hehe, don't worry about it~"

He stood up and held out his hand. "Come on, let's go back. Lunch is almost over." You hesitated but grabbed his hand as he pulled you up carefully. Once you were on your feet, he embraced you. He held your head to his chest, making you hear his heartbeat.

"You deserve to be happy, so don't worry about it anymore, alright?" he said. "(Y/N), I love you."

Lips pursed in order not to cry any more, you chuckled. "Thank you, Ritsu..." you whispered. "I love you too."

The next day, you stopped receiving those threatening messages from your ex. You wondered how Ritsu did it, but he never answered, leaving you clueless about the whole situation.

However, he did tell you that you shouldn't worry about your ex finding you anymore. He made sure to report the messages to the police with the help of Tsukasa. So now that the police were keeping an eye on him, you were able to relax.

"But what did you guys do anyway?" you asked Knights one day. "Ritsu never told me."

"Uhm– Oh– We didn't do much!" Arashi quickly stated, looking to the side. "We just reported it, that's it!"

"Eh...? Then Tsukasa, can you tell me–"

"I'm sorry, (Y/N), I can't."

"Izumi–"

"Nope."

"Leo?!"

"Not happening, (Y/N)!"

"Why are you all being so secretive?!"

"It's for your own good," Ritsu said sleepily as he entered the room. "(Y/N), can I use you as a pillow?"

You smiled. "Of course, come over here." As you patted your lap, Ritsu made his way over to you. He laid his head down on your legs happily as you began to stroke his hair.

"Can I have a kiss too?" he whispered. "After all, you didn't give me one last time~"

"Okay, okay~"

You leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips which he seemed to be very delighted about. You supposed it didn't matter how your boyfriend got your ex to back off. The past was the past, and you were going to leave that behind once and for all.

Anyways, your future was already fast asleep on your lap, lightly snoring away.

Intro page | Ensemble Stars masterlist | Rules

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey honey! Could I get an extremely wild NSFW with Daemon x Martell/dornish reader. Where she is extremely bold and has fame to rival his and at first she doesn't like him, but he is willing to do it She changes her mind about him (and he does) as they spend time together she ends up realizing he's not that bad, thus forming a solid friendship, but the sexual tension and mutual desire between them is extremely strong (almost palpable) then one night while they are spending quality +

Killing Me Softly

Daemon Targaryen x Martell!Reader

Summary: Daemon, as unopposed as he was to be forced into a marriage so that he would no longer disrupt the matters of the crown, he found himself wanting nothing else but to marry the Lady Martell

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: physically abusive!daemon, fem!reader, reader injures daemon, they're both really toxic to each other, literally opens with smut [daemon takes liberties with intoxicated reader, manhandling, oral (m receiving), semi-public sex, vaginal penetration, name calling, pulling out, breeding kink], fuck buddies to/& enemies (to lovers ?), i describe reader's hair, i name reader's sister, idk asoiaf lore so I just made stuff up, typos, etc.

A/N: another day another 5K+ smut MINORS DNI. it's hard being a simp [sigh] i put the second part of your ask below the gif cos i wanna see matty's stupid face when i get notes lol, but dont be deceived by it his cutesy face, this fic aint cutesy at all RIP. ok so i did research about the martell fam and i found out they're referred to as prince/princess because of a Targaryen ancestor that comes along long after daemon's existence and i almost made her a princess BONK let's just pretend i know what im doing. i took liberties on your prompt btw anon, i found the idea of writing another enemies to lovers exhausting which was why it took a while for me to get back to you. i think it came out a lot darker and there's a lot of mind fuckery involved. i hope you still like it. Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda

Daemon grunts and grabs my brownish blonde hair, coiling the curls around his hand has he maneuvers my head back and forth.

"Just like that," he urges and I grip his thighs for dear life.

Daemon leans against the wall as his hips involuntarily thrust into me. It was nothing I couldn't handle, not when I was used to it, and his particularly selfish desires. However, even after all his brutalizations, my jaw still cannot keep up with him nor can my lungs.

I let out a muffled sound when he hits the back of my throat. I feel myself gag around him and tears water my eyes as it get harder to breathe. I try to pull away but he is too greedy with my mouth, and has me locked in his grip by my hair.

I pound on his thigh, and his eyes that he screwed shut finally open.

He pants as he pulls me off him. A string of saliva drips down from my lips and I look up at him in annoyance. My insult comes out strangled and hoarse, "selfish prick."

Daemon smirks as he watches me get to my feet. I wipe the wetness of my lips off. He grabs me, and pushes my chest up against the wall. His hands claw and bunch up my skirt as he breathes against my ear, "you act as though I do not reward you for your service."

His hands make their way to my dripping heat, and we both hiss when he begins his ministrations on me.

"Is it a reward if you're only paying me my dues for what you so desperately begged to get?" I mutter through strained breathing.

I lean against him and reach for his neck behind me.

He pushes me off, dragging me to the side up until I was leaning against the open window. He grabs my hair again, my hands instinctively dart to it. I moan when he slowly enters me. I hear him pant as he begins to thrust. He pushes my skirt farther up as to get a better hold on my hip, "maybe you should ask your devotees what they think?"

"Daemon," I groan in gratification as he rams into me.

He hums. His chest rises and falls before he chuckles, "they're not gonna hear who's fucking you good when they're not if you don't pipe up."

I squeal when he releases my hair and places all his vigor into the flicking of his hips. I dig my fingers into the stone opening for dear life, just as he digs into my sides. The pain of his grip intensifies the pleasure rising in my core.

"Daemon," I grunt, "yes, yes, harder!"

Daemon is half-amused, half-breathless, "needy bitch."

He does not disappoint though. As much as he takes, he gives back, if only to prove a point of his manhood.

I let out a struggled and broken cry when he lifts my torso up closer to him and slams into my sweet spot. My knees can barely keep my standing as my feet lift and crash from the ground. My arms helping to push me up begin to shake when I feel my orgasm near.

"Fuck," I drag out breathily, "I'm so fucking close, Daemon."

He grunts and gracelessly shoves me back down. Had my arms not already been out, I would have slammed my head into the fucking rock. I whimper in pain, but have no time to tell him off as I am busy chasing my high.

"COME ON!" he growls.

Three thrusts in then I'm coming all over him. I let out the loudest and lewdest sound I could muster. It hikes up and down in volume because of his pounding.

In the middle of it all, he pulls out and leans against me. He is still heavily catching breath when I stir beneath him and turn over. Once I am sitting on the sill, Daemon pushes between my legs and rests against me. I tense at his affection and push him away, giving him a stern look, "did you fucking come on my dress again?"

Daemon's features harden upon hearing this.

"This would be the fourth dress you've ruined, you vile cretin."

"It's not like you make sport of reusing your garments anyway."

"Because you keep staining them!" I quip.

He lets out an annoyed breath as he moves off me, roughly fixing himself in his trousers.

I roll my eyes at him and flatten my bunched skirt. Once I was all sorted out, I call out to both sides of the hall, "if anyone's there, you can pass now."

Daemon eyes me darkly as he finishes tying his breeches.

Just then, one of the younger maids squeak and hurriedly makes her way down the hall with her head hung low.

I release a sigh as I get to my feet twisting back to see the damage he's done on my burnt sienna dress.

"It's not that bad."

I see the blot on the fabric and groan in annoyance. "Not that bad?!" I seethe, shoving him on his chest.

Daemon still manages to find it in him to chuckle.

"Now I have to have someone wipe that off."

"Or," he reaches out to me, "we can go have a hot ba-"

I swat him away.

Daemon's expression changes drastically, "bitch."

"Addict," I spit.

"Hussy," he grabs my jaw.

"Dick," I shove him off me with so much force he is actually surprised when he shoots back, nails grazing my face in the process. With that, I scream my servant's name as I storm down the hall.

Daemon watches as the sound of heels clicking fills his ears.

It was a relief that I found Audrey quickly, and that she managed to remove the traces of the prince on my dress as I removed traces of him on my skin.

Once I looked like the lady I was, face painted, shiny hair styled just the way I like it, and not utterly fucked and manhandled, I make my way down to the festivities in our dining hall.

My lips curve up when I feel the room shift its attention to me when I walk in. I bask in the attention, rolling my shoulders back as I caress the large diamond on my sternum, drawing even more attention to the plunging neckline of my dress.

The crowd parts for me as I make it across the room, heading for the seat at the head of the table that was prepared for me. I pay no one regard as they nod and greet me. Why would I?

Halfway through, I see him rip through the crowd toward me. Daemon gives me a boyish grin and extends his hand out to me. I release a breath at the look upon his face and take his hand.

"Beloved," he mutters, eyes fixed on me as he places a kiss on the back of my hand.

I forfeit a response to his performance, but cannot withhold my surprised chuckle when he spins me around and pulls my back flush against his chest.

"Your servant is truly a miracle worker," he mutters against my ear.

I scoff at his words, knowing he saw missing stain on my skirt.

The crowd intently watches our display and I let out a genuine laugh when I pull away from him, "and you a truly a menace, my prince."

The two of us then make our way to our seats at the table. The moment we do, music begins to play and people head off to the center of the room to dance.

Daemon sits to my left, leaning back with an indifference to it all. He is bored of it, and was only here because I told him to be. He reaches his hand to my skirt from under the table. I let him draw shapes on me with this fingers. I could not care less.

I watch the people make merry before me. I watch them step and twirl to the sound of the music. I smile although my chest constricts as I recall a time in my life when I was as carefree as the atmosphere.

I turn to Daemon, bored still. He was the personification of my cynicism, the marker of my truth: I existed only for duty.

We both turn to my right when my name is called out.

And here she was, our youngest, my pretty sister; a beacon of light that reminded me everything I was no longer. I smiled at her as she went my side. She leans down to kiss my cheek and I offer her the same sentiment as she greets us both.

"Sister," she smiles, "Prince Daemon."

"Lady Castella," Daemon offers a small smile. His fingers continue to absentmindedly draw on me.

"I want to introduce someone to you," she inhales deeply as she pulls a grin on her face.

Two men then walk over to the table, and I instantly find some recognition of the old man. The sight of him makes my face contort in contempt.

"Sister," Castella lets out a breath as she extends her hand out, "Lord Michael Yronwood and his son, Lord Perros."

"The Ladies Martell," the balding man wags his wrinkly jowls then turns to the man beside me, "Prince Daemon Targaryen."

I scoff at his greeting and straighten myself up.

My sister stiffens beside me as I watch the boy great all of us individually.

"At least you have proper manners," I say to Perros as he raises his head up after bowing.

Daemon holds back his laugh.

Before I could remark at the stink eye the elder Yronwood was giving me, my sister catches my attention with her words, "this is the man I have been telling you about."

I turn to her in disbelief, "the Yronwood boy?"

Castella licks her pink lips before nibbling on it nervously.

I idly turn back to the thing that won my sister's favor. I take in his thick, dark hair, wondering when he will begin to bald like his father. I take in the broadness of his shoulders, wondering when he shall need a shabby cane as well. I take in the eagerness and restlessness of his expression and measure it against the sardonic expression of the old man beside him.

"Is it true that you write my sister poems?"

Perros freezes. His father beside him eyes him hotly.

We all look onto the man caught off guard and my patience quickly runs dry over his silence. I allow him a few more seconds, but he does not pipe up to even stutter like the lost child he is.

"Clearly he is too stupid to even utter a word to me," I turn to my sister.

"I beg your pardon," the boy's father quips as he leans on his cane.

"No," I raise my brows at him, "I will not pardon you, Lord Yronwood." I turn to my sister, "what has-"

"It is clear you cannot breed the whore out of someone, even with Martell seed," the geezer scoffs, "I should have your tongue for your insolence."

I turn to him with furrowed brows. My sister's jaw hangs low. Daemon shoots out of his chair, causing it to fall back with a thud and make the entire room go silent.

That is what it takes for him to realize his mistake. The hot glare of the prince renders his ugly face uncomfortable. He grabs his son by the arm, "I knew this was a mistake."

I hear my sister whimper beside me as Perros struggles against his father. He manages to pull away without injuring his raggedy hand and snaps at him, "What you did was a mistake. I love her, father!"

"Her mother is a whore!"

The sound of my laughter draws everyone's attention to me. Their eyes are blown, shocked, disturbed, and it amuses me further, excites me that my breath leaves me even quickly.

When my sister places a hand on my shoulder, a knowing gesture to my knowing actions, I swat her away and calm myself.

Daemon watches me, watches how my face ticks.

"Yes, oh you caught us," I utter as my breath evens out, "my mother was born, raised, and worked in a brothel before her hypnotizing cunt ensnared my poor daddy, the Lord Martell."

I raise my voice when the gremlin thinks to interrupt me, "AND YOU THINK TO LEAVE..." I lean against the table, "leave out the best part!" I smile, "she was a bastard of the Lannisters."

I chuckle again, flipping my golden hair back, "not that there's any proof to that," I tilt my head offering a wicked smile, "and yet, here you are. Under the roof of the late whore's home, submitting to her whore spawn because your son fell for the whore's daughter,"

I stand to my feet, "the Lady Castella of house fucking Martell."

I hear the shuffling of the guards from the side, who had been on edge ever since the music. I hear one of them call to me. I knew it was Aleksander, and I knew he was ready to kill for me.

I smirk.

The crows stirs.

The Yronwoods begin to stiffen in panic.

"You are outranked, outnumbered, and fucking ugly," I break into a laugh. I gesture upwards, "I am only now recalling why I am so pissed by the sight of your monstrosity. Were you not the same Yronwood that tried to marry off the same pawn to me not long ago?"

I turn to his son, breaking yet again into another laugh.

Daemon shifts in his spot, smiling to himself as he watches me on his side.

"And this was after you made issue of the charity I give the peasants. A farce, you said, to give back to the less fortunate."

"Perros," my sister's calls. My eye twitches at it. It cuts off my anger briefly. I narrow my eyes at the said man. How good could his dick be?

Michael Yronwood although rendered speechless, arrogantly kept his head high. His son, Perros, could do nothing but hang his head low in shame as my sister looked out to him.

I heave and feel anger rise at the sound of my sister's hushed cries. How dare these fucking gremlins cause her this distress, at one of our house's feasts, an occasion she adores, no less.

My lips twitch, "you should be glad I care about the less fortunate, because you are so clearly desperate for all these things that you lack: prestige, wealth, and face that is not so hideous to look at-"

Daemon could not hold back his chuckle.

"and so I will not have you quartered and hung in the town square."

The Yronwoods turn to me in shock. My sister pleads my name out, and it further fuels my anger.

"Perros," I call loudly turning to the boy, "I present you now two choices: you either leave my sister alone and keep your lovelorn poetry to yourself, or," I turn his father, "you can marry her in return for your father's head."

"You DARE," he raises his cane, "threaten my son in front of me!"

I giggle, "it is not a threat," then lunge at him to grab his cane.

He is jarred by my actions and nearly topples back when he pulls away. It is a shame his son keeps him upright.

"My word," I examine his family crest on the cane, "is law," I throw his cane behind me.

"You deranged wench!"

"Call me what you like, filth," I grin, "I am the first born of house Martell, betrothed to house Targaryen. Do you think anyone would defy me?"

"The prince will never wed your defiled cunt!"

"Father, that's enough!" Perros begs.

"He has not married you still because-" the old fuck cuts himself off when Daemon climbs over the table, kicking all the food down, and grabs him in his fury.

"You should have kept your tongue while my bride allowed you to keep it. Now I demand it," Daemon seethes, gripping the large oaf by his collar, before extending a hand out to his side, "we are awaiting the return of her father and brothers before we wed, but you would not understand honor or familial duty even after I cut your tongue out."

"Daemon, please," my sister begs, leaning against the table.

"HAND ME A FUCKING BLADE!"

Castella turns to me, gripping my arm tightly.

I cannot bring myself to turn to her as I command, "release him."

"No," Daemon seethes.

"RELEASE HIM!"

Daemon grinds his teeth as he grips the man's collar with both hands again. After, he shoves him off with much force. Again, much to his luck, his son keeps him upright. Had that not been the case, he would have surely fallen and cracked his skull.

I eye Castella and nearly falter at the sight of her tears. I clench my jae, "I have given my word."

She calls my name out, "please, do not-"

With that, I storm out of the place.

Daemon was too caught up in his own anger to realize this. He gives the order to haul the Yronwoods' arses out of the place, and by the time he notices my absence, it was too late.

Much like our routine, Daemon spends the rest of the day that fades into the night, looking for me. He searches In our estate, the establishments nearby, the places I frequent, and the places he has never seen me enter before. He finds me in the very place that I owed my existence to, the brothel my mother worked at.

Daemon could not even let relief wash up on him as he watches me grind up down on the guard I was relieving my angers on.

He rubs my sides as I push my tongue into his mouth.

I scream when I am pulled off him from my hair.

I am thrown off to the side. There is a sound of brawling. I look up and see my snogging partner grip his side in pain as he is hauled out of the place.

I get to my feet in time to witness Daemon shove the guy out the door. I heave as I grab a cup of ale. As he comes up to me, I finish downing whatever remained of it

I gulp the last of it when Daemon grabs the cup and throws it to the side, hissing at the smell of alcohol on me, "are you out of your fucking mind?"

I get on my toes and lean up at him, "yes."

He recoils at my breath and grabs my wrists when I reach out to him. The next thing I know, I am thrown over his shoulder and being hauled out myself.

It's a miracle I do not slip off him, or that the alcohol I consumed did not slip out of me.

Somehow, I am in my chambers.

Like clockwork, I head to the stored wine in my room and gracelessly intake it. Daemon catches it out of my grip and leaves me and my dress in a mess when it splashes all over the place.

I catch my breath as the red cascades all over me.

"What is wrong with you?" Daemon asks, as he pulls the now empty container from me. I grab the other one and run away to drink as much as I could. I barely get to drink any as the prince grabs it. He pulls away from me to empty its contents out the window.

I fight against him when he does so, and out of annoyance, he grabs me by the throat, making my hands dart to his grip.

He releases me when all the wine is wasted. He moves away to put the object back where I got it.

I groan and heave as I watch him walk away.

By the time I catch my breath, I storm towards him. "Stop using your fucking strength against me!" I screech. I lunge at him just as he turns. I manage to the glass he just placed back on the table.

I manage to hit him once on the nose but he he catches both my arms before I could injure him further.

Part of me is shocked when he begins to bleed, but another part is enticed by the way he licks the red off his lips.

Of course, he overpowers me. He brings my hands down in front of him and eyes me darkly. I whine out in pain at how roughly he was gripping me. I eventually release the container and it drops to the floor with a crashing sound.

He pushes me back, and I could do nothing against it.

I crash down on my bed, breathing taxed, I look up at him as he seals my hands beside my head. I am unable to move beneath his bodyweight.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he hisses as his blonde hair falls down to my face.

I find myself laughing at his vexation, "you're awfully clueless for someone that was there."

His nostrils flare. Discomfort shots on his face because of his injury, "were you seriously affected by that vermin's words?"

I laugh harder. Daemon makes a face at the hot, alcohol laced breath that hits him. "Of course not."

"Then why?"

"See, the difference between you and I is that I actually know I'm a lunatic," I crane my neck up at him, "while you are wound up in your own self-righteousness."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

I drop my head and close my eyes. Castella's face burns in my mind, "I just ruined my sister's life."

"No," he quips, loosening his grip when he feels me relax beneath him, "you saved her from marrying into a family of idiots."

Daemon measures my reaction before he pulls away from me. Tears continue to leave my shut eyes when I feel my shoes get pulled off me. I am too sad to care about how I am suddenly being hoisted up. Daemon has me lean against him when he peels me out of my dress.

He makes me sit up on my own. I open my eyes when he caresses my face.

He wipes my tears with his thumb while examining me for a moment. He then undoes the braids and accessories fashioned in my hair.

I fall back on the cushion when he is done. At this point he pulls my skirt down my legs.

My sobs are slightly ceased when I feel a damp towel get thrown at me.

"Wipe yourself down."

I don't. Why would I? I don't care. Where did he even get this?

Daemon returns to me, grumbling in High Valyrian as he takes the towel and wipes the red stains on my skin away.

I only realize he was changed out into his own sleeping attire when he puts me into my nightgown.

I look at him dumbly for a moment. It was as though I had forgotten everything that happened up until this moment. It was not farfetched after all. The candles in the room made his cut and inflamed nose look worse than what it was. Or at least that's what I tell myself.

I bring my hand to his face. He lets me.

He watches me silently.

More tears fall from my eyes, but I cannot bring myself to apologize. I don't even know if I feel sorry.

Daemon does not need it. He shifts on the bed and pulls me onto him when he leans back by the pillows on the headboard. I look at him and shift from my spot, moving to straddle his lap. He places his hands on my thighs as he watches me wipe my tears away.

I take a moment to calm myself. I take a moment to gather my thoughts. I feel Daemon relax beneath me. I feel him rub my thighs in comfort. It's enough for me to roll my hips on his.

He holds back as moan as he leans his head back.

The next moment, he hisses and holds me in place, "you will not remember it was I that fucked you in your state."

"Then tell me in the morning."

He says my name as though it was a warning.

"If you did not want me, then I would not be on your lap."

"And that's the problem, isn't it," he chides, throwing me down on the bed, spinning us around so that I was again under his mercy, "I want you. I want you every second of every day, and yet you do not want me back."

I am unremorseful of his words. I am stoic beneath him as I press my feet on the cushions, "and why would I want you?"

"Because you should be mine!" he mutters sharply, "-are mine. You are promised to marry me!"

I begin to feel exhaustion wrap around me. I close my eyes.

He grabs my head and pulls me close, "yet you insult me by readying yourself to the first man you say your eyes upon."

I am uninterested when I retort, "you only want me because I do not want you, Daemon," I wrap my arms around him and peel my eyes open, "but I do not want you to want me like that."

I wrap my legs around him and suck in a deep breath, "I want you to want me like Ezekiel, who begged at the gates for a mere glance of my face."

Daemon's jaw clenches.

"Like Allyrion, who you still have in locked in our prison but comes alive when I grace him with my presence," I whisper, "the Dalt brothers, Timothy and Bolton, who now despise each other because of how they both wanted to marry me. Rowan, who feels no regret, though you broke his arm after catching us fuck in this very room."

He heaves and attempts to pull away from me.

He drops my head and I grab his, pulling him close, "you want my fire, dragon, but you must scrape the skin on your knees begging for it like everyone else before you."

Daemon does not take kindly to this.

He never does.

He thinks he's so smart and scary but he doesn't realize that he plays into my desires as easily as his temper is triggered.

He leans back into me and shuffles with his clothing. "I'll make you show me how to beg," he seethes.

He was never one to shy from a fight, and in this moment, he was fighting both me and himself with every bit of him. The next second, he is ramming all his anger and frustrations into me.

I admit, it's truly a humbling experience to be at his mercy, helpless, unable to do anything that he will not allow. And yet as he breaks me, he helps me continuously break him the way I have been the moment I met him. I squeal out his name as my mind races with the thought.

He presses my hands beneath his. He is so rough and forceful I begin to slip upward because of his actions. He does not care, and only busies himself by losing his sanity over my wetness, my screams. But then it annoys him and he has no other choice but to pin me down by hips.

"Tell me who's fucking you like this?"

"Daemon," I obediently retort.

He hums as he maneuvers my legs, "and do you want me to stop?"

I whine gutturally, "no! Don't stop!"

His annoying and spiteful self does just that though, and leaves me in a panting mess as I look up at him.

"Beg for it."

I plan my timing carefully. I watch how he watches me, thinking he's in control. I reach out to his hands and lick my lips as I roll against him.

"BEG, I SAID."

"Daemon pleeeasssee," I whine as I roll my head back and arch my back.

"Louder."

"Daemon, please!"

"Louder!"

"DAEMON JUST FUCKING FUCK ME-" I rip out with a high pitched moan when he begins to thrust into me again. He leans down and begins to sink his face into neck as he continues his brutalization.

I let out unabashed cries of pleasure as he sucks on my skin. I dig my hands into the roots of his hair and call out his name like a sacred prayer.

"I will burn my seed into you," he threatens, "you will not escape me. I will fuck you over and over and over again until you're swollen and spent."

Daemon excites himself with the idea and picks up the pace, "your pretty cunt will bear me a strong Targaryen."

I picture the idea of carrying his blonde babe.

He tightens his hold on me.

"I will put a dragon in you," he mutters, pulling away to rest his forehead on mine, "and have us married at daybreak by the traditions of my house."

I whine at the building tension in my stomach.

Daemon lets his mind wander. Lets himself imagine his future, his children, his bride.

He closes his eyes and loses himself as he buries all his thoughts deep beneath him. He relishes the warmth, the softness, the readiness beneath his unforgiving force.

I catch my breath as I dig my teeth into his skin, absolutely ready to come undone before him. "Daemon," I whisper arduously.

That's all it takes for him to realize what he's doing.

Before either of us could even reach our highs, his pace begins to grow sloppy. I whimper at the loss and do not wait for him to quicken his pace again.

With a grunt, I roll him off me and find myself on top him.

I look down on him as I ride him. I lock his neck in my grip. He chokes at my harshness and I lick my teeth at the sight of him. I allow him the courtesy of a breath as I fuck myself on him. I knew he would not have it in him to stop me.

And just as I thought, he holds onto my hips and screws his eyes shut, basking in the feel of me.

I groan as I watch him, "come inside me, my dragon. Claim me like you have been dreaming."

Daemon digs his nails into my flesh. His final act of deviance. It is for naught. He is powerless against me.

And in the rare occasion, we both come at the same time. The feeling is overwhelming, mind melting, toe curling. It is the best fuck we've had in a while.

I do not relent against him. I milk both our reactions for all that I've got, and once I'm reeling, I allow myself to stay on top of him for a moment to catch my breath.

He opens his eyes when I pull away from him.

He thinks about what he said, his desires for his seed.

I think about how badly I want to wash myself down.

Daemon watches me as I head off to the bathroom. He's already cleaned up by the time I return.

He does not wake before dawn. He had been relishing the warmth in his arms. This was why when he opened his eyes and saw nothing but a ghost of who he laid with, he was awakened with bitterness and betrayal.

He is unkept when I see him in the courtyard. He did not fix his hair, did not wash his face, did not change out of his nightly attire. He stares at me as I am served breakfast.

"My prince," I smile, "might you join me for some food?"

Daemon looks at me for a moment, watches as I scold the maid for giving me the chipped tea cup that I absolutely despised.

I turn to him when he walks over to me.

One of the servants pull the chair out for him and I offer another smile. Daemon does not sit down when I tell the servants to prepare his preferred dish.

"Last night..."

I look at Daemon and knit my brows.

"What happened to your nose?" I question as grab his hand and make him sit down next to me. He does not resist. He does not pull away when I push his wild hair back. I move the chair closer to his. There is skidding sound because of it.

When he does not reply, I know my mind games are working. I braid his hair behind him when I repeat, "last night."

Daemon does not move. "I promised I would marry you at daybreak," he whispers.

"Did you?" I feign ignorance, "it's a little too late for that now though," I chuckle.

He grabs my hand, just as I managed to reach the ends of his long hair. I look at him.

My face does not betray me, but his does.

"Do you remember?" he mutters.

I purse my lips, "there is an ache in between my legs. I wished it was you because the moron came inside me."

He releases me and stands. He debates the sincerity of my words. He recounts all the other times I got drunk out of my mind, how he saw the blankness of my eyes when he recounted the activities we did when I was intoxicated.

He measures my current expression against that. He does not know if he wishes it were true or not.

I release a sigh, "do not hold my poor drunken memory against me now, all because you said you would marry me at daybreak."

Daemon clenches his fist, "forget the thought."

I quirk my brows at him.

"I will marry you in the traditions of my house in front of your father, in front of everyone."

I look at him. I look at his violet eyes and blink slowly, "alright."

That's all you could say?

The servant comes back holding the dish he enjoyed. I watch as the food is placed before him, "will you join me now, or would you like me to wait for you to get yourself sorted?"

Daemon feels his pulse quicken. His nostrils flair, "wait for me."

He does not see me nod as he immediately walks off.

When he returns, his entire body tingles at the sound of laughter.

Behold, your brothers have returned.

"Daemon!" I call, waving at him the moment I spot him. I have both my arms flung over the shoulders of my two younger brothers that came after me. The third one that was sitting on the chair I was sat on just a moment.

"Prince Daemon," one of them says.

"Or perhaps we should call him brother."

I roll my eyes, "he is not your brother."

"Well, he will be soon enough."

I shake my head as I watch Daemon come close, "come now. Your food is getting cold."

Daemon is acutely aware of the unintentional alienation he is put into. The brothers coddle their eldest and recount every detail of their trip without a pause, sparing nothing out of it.

He looks at his food and watches a fly that land on it.

Daemon would join this family, much sooner than he expected, and yet, he was no different to the fly on his food.

I catch his distraught expression and find myself smiling.

[imakemywings]

I am on the feanorians side of the silmaril debate and do see Dior and elwing as thieves. And I hope you dont see this as an attack i just want to explain my reasoning for the way i see it. But to me at least the stealing of the ships is an entirely seperate thing that happened, I know it happened because the silmarils got stolen in the first place. But it has nothing to do with the Dior and elwing part of the silmaril story. And thats why I dont bring up the stealing of the ships when talking about this

And I feel like Dior and elwing are thieves because they have the feanorians most treasured family heirloom and are refusing to give it back to them. And I think calling them thieves isnt exactly right because they didnt steal it from the feanorians and luthien and beren didnt either but it is wrong of them to not give it back. And the feanorians did first write letters asking to be given the silmaril back. The feanorians were wrong in kinslaying to try and get it back, but I do understand how they got to the conclusion to do so. They swore an oath to get it back and if they dont they will be in purgatory forever, so they really do have this need of getting it back even without considering the fact that its rightfully theirs to begin with.

As for for Dior and elwings part in this, I have more understanding for Dior than elwing. Dior is a new king and not well known to his people. And the silmaril to him represent a great deed done by his parents and their love for each other and I wouldnt be suprised if the silmaril was starting to become as important to Dior and his people as it was to the feanorians. So him not giving it away makes sense it has personal importance to him and giving it away could mark him as a weak king which is not something he needs. And it is also the fact that we dont know how much he knows about the feanorians oath and what it means he may know nothing at all about it.

Elwing on the other hand is completely different, I do not understand why she does the things she does at all. I will just be discussing the lead up to the kinslaying and not what happens during it, because I have read posts saying that her mental health may have crumbled during it and I do concede they have a point. But that doesnt explain any of the lead up to it. The feanorians ask for the silmaril and she tells them no and its like doesnt she realize that just like last time this can lead to a kinslaying, like does the thought even enter her mind and I dont understand how she could not see it as the likely outcome bu then she doesnt prepare for the eventuality at all. Its so puzzling to me, shes the leader and responible for the safety of everyone there but she doesnt seem to care about it. She doesnt even send her sons to cirdan were they would be safe from the feanorians. For elwing this has all happened before and she does nothing to change what will happen and it doesnt make sense.

So yea im on the feanorians side in this because the silmaril is rightfully theirs and while they did bad bad things to get them back i understand where they are coming from. Something i dont understand with elwing.

Hey anon, I definitely don't see this as an attack; I do appreciate your reasonable tone here.

If you're interested in other more detailed explorations of Elwing and her motivations, definitely check out my Elwing meta tag, because others on on tumblr have done some great work there.

The point I think the other anon was making about the swan ships is that fans can be very quick to condemn Luthien and her descendants as "thieves" of the Silmarils, but say nothing about the Feanorians' theft of the swan ships. No, the events aren't related, but one is a much clearer-cut case of theft than the other, yet it's the one that's swept under the rug to attack those who stand in opposition to the sons of Feanor (SoF). But you're right, it's not relevant to discussing Dior and Elwing in relation to the SoF.

Luthien and Beren, at great personal risk, obtained a Silmaril from Morgoth. I think it's relevant to note that at this point, the SoF appeared to have no problem with Luthien having possession of the Silmaril. In fact, Maedhros takes heart from their success and by it is inspired to begin his efforts which culminate in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.

First, let's recall Luthien's history with the Feanorians at the point that she and Beren depart Doriath after Beren is restored to life:

Luthien is aware of the Kinslaying at Alqualonde and the theft of the swan ships, actions of shocking violence by Elves against Elves, and the Noldor's part in trying to conceal it from her parents.

Celegorm and Curufin feign friendship with her when she encounters them on her quest to rescue Beren, only to then trap her in Nargothrond. Celegorm plans to wed her against her will, which strongly implies he also means to rape her, in order to force Thingol to open the Girdle to the Feanorians.

Celegorm and Curufin overthrew Finrod's chosen successor, Orodreth, and the Arafinweans had been friends of Doriath. She may or may not be aware that Celegorm used the oath to threaten the residents of Nargothrond, implicitly threatening violence against them.

After Luthien has escaped and rescued Beren from Sauron, she encounters Celegorm and Curufin again. Curufin attempts to kidnap her, and Celegorm then attempts to kill Beren when he leaps to her defense.

Celegorm openly makes threats against Thingol and Doriath.

So at this point, you can perhaps see why Luthien does not feel a lot of need to play nice with the SoF. From her perspective, they're pretty scummy people who are more than willing to commit violent acts against other Elves. At no point does Maedhros reprimand or punish Celegorm or Curufin for their actions, which as the leader of the Feanorians, suggests he doesn't think what they did was wrong. Why should she cooperate with them? They didn't risk their lives to obtain one of their Silmarils. If the Silmarils were as important to them as they claim, why haven't they tried harder? She and Beren, with far fewer resources, managed to do it.

Additionally, the Feanorians do not make any effort to reclaim the Silmaril from Luthien during her life. Possibly because she took down Morgoth (briefly).

"For while Luthien wore the Necklace of the Dwarves no Elf would dare to assail her..." (Of the Ruin of Doriath)

So she dies and the Silmaril goes to Dior, her son.

To Dior, the Feanorians are the unquestioned villains of his parents' story. These are people who openly threatened his grandfather's kingdom, who tried to force his mother into marriage and imprisoned her, who tried to kill his father. Sure, you can argue that they have an ancestral claim on the Silmaril--but cannot Dior also make that argument at this point? And what motivation does he have to cooperate with them? They do nothing to win his friendship, as they have done nothing to win the friendship of Doriath throughout their time in Beleriand. If Maedhros is such a formidable diplomat, why can he not come to terms with Dior?

"They [the Feanorians] came at unawares in the middle of winter, and fought with Dior in the Thousand Caves..." (Of the Ruin of Doriath, emphasis added)

Furthermore, to your point, Dior is a young king--and a mortal among Elves. Doriath is also recovering from the war with Nogrod; they are already in a vulnerable position, and with Melian gone, the Girdle is down, so they are far more exposed than they are accustomed to being and having to adjust to that.

So Dior does not relinquish the Silmaril, and rather than pursue the two held by Morgoth, the Feanorians assault Doriath, kill many Elves, throw at least two children out into the woods to die of exposure, and still fail to capture the Silmaril.

So Dior dies and the Silmaril goes to Elwing, his daughter.

Consider what the Feanorians represent to Elwing at this point.

These are Elves who have shown themselves to be unrepentant killers. We as the fans love to focus on the tormented regret of the Feanorians, but to their victims, they are simply killers. They committed slaughter in the Blessed Realm, for which they were exiled by the Valar, and for which they have expressed such regrets--except that they've gone and done the same thing here in Beleriand. They have threatened forced marriage, they have killed children, they have driven the Iathrim from their home and made them refugees. To Elwing personally, they are the murderers of her parents and the ones who dragged her brothers into the woods as children and left them to die.

What, precisely, might motivate Elwing to cooperate with them? So the Silmaril "belongs" to them--so what? They have tormented Luthien's line for generations now--the Feanorians ARE the Morgoth of Elwing's story. And she should give into them why? The Ring belongs to Sauron--should Frodo hand it over because it's his property?

Maedhros, who has apparently lost all diplomatic veneer, does nothing to show good faith or a desire to cooperate with Elwing. Instead, he writes with his demands, as he did with Dior.

The one thing--the ONE thing--that might make Elwing cooperate is, to me, solely to avoid another slaughter as happened in Doriath, as you mentioned. So in this vein, why doesn't Elwing surrender the Silmaril just to avoid trouble, even if she hates and distrusts the Feanorians? There are two things which are absolutely key to understanding this decision.

1.Elwing does not make the decision alone. Critics of Elwing often act as though she made a unilateral decision to withhold the Silmaril from the Feanorians--which is not the case. In fact, Tolkien writes that "Elwing and the people of Sirion" refused to yield the jewel under threat.

This is not an unusual response. Most people do not respond well to being threatened, and may refuse out of spite. Furthermore, these are people who were made refugees by the same people now making demands of them.

But more importantly, Elwing did not alone choose to keep the Silmaril. She and whatever Sirionites aided her in governing decided together that they would not give in to the Feanorians.

2. The second is that the Sirionites believed the Silmaril was protecting Earendil and the Havens. Remember that at this time, Earendil is seeking for Aman, to obtain the help of the Valar in defeating Morgoth. So not only is he the lord of the Havens at Sirion, but he is on a quest which is, to them, of critical importance. They need him to stay safe so that he can complete his mission and hopefully win Beleriand's rescue.

And to your point about Dior above--this Silmaril is effectively a family heirloom to Elwing as well.

The Sirionites are particularly loath to part with the Silmaril while Earendil is at sea--which makes sense, as he is a ruling lord of this city, and they believe his protection is somewhat dependent on their possession of the Silmaril.

But the Feanorians don't wait for Earendil to return to negotiate--they lay siege to the Havens at Sirion while Earendil is still away ("For the sons of Feanor that yet lived came down suddenly upon the exiles of Gondolin, and the remnant of Doriath" Of the Voyage of Earendil and the War of Wrath, emphasis added) and render the Iathrim virtually extinct as a people. Once again, they come down "suddenly" on another group of Elves and destroy them.

What the Feanorians do in the Havens at Sirion is so awful ("the cruelest of the slayings of Elf by Elf") that their own troops stand aside or even turn against them during the fight in an effort to defend the Sirionites; the Feanorians kill them too.

This, to me, tells us how far the Feanorians are from attempting any real diplomatic work here. They are not even considering the Silmarils that Morgoth still has; they have utterly failed to reach Elwing in a diplomatic or cooperative manner; they refuse to even wait until Earendil has returned so that he and Elwing can make a decision together, as joint rulers of this city.

Why doesn't Elwing fortify the Havens? We have no evidence that she doesn't. Only that it wasn't enough to stop the Feanorians. Why doesn't she send Elrond and Elros away? That poses its own risks--and she may believe they are safest there, as the Sirionites believe the Silmaril is protecting the Havens. It may be incorrect, but it is something they believe and they operate under that belief.

But even if you think she didn't do things she should have--does that justify the actions of the Feanorians? It's fine for them to murder because their victims didn't do enough to prevent them from murdering? You took our object so we can kill you for it now?

Putting all that aside for now, I want to jump over to the oath, because you mentioned something interesting about it:

They swore an oath to get it back and if they dont they will be in purgatory forever

Purgatory and hell do not exist in Ea. What exactly the Feanorians think their "punishment" for breaking the oath will be is unclear, whether it's just death without the chance for rebirth (as is the case with Feanor, and seems to be the most extreme punishment the Valar can or will enact), or something more. Clearly they put a lot of stock in it--but they also are not totally beyond the notion of breaking it. Maglor himself suggests after the Third Kinslaying that they should abandon the quest and plead their repentance to the Valar, but Maedhros refuses.

Maedhros seems to still believe they may suffer some punishment for breaking it--that Eru might actually hold them to the oath they swore. But Maglor counters with the notion the oath can be voided:

"Yet Maglor held back, saying: 'If Manwe and Varda themselves deny the fulfillment of an oath to which we named them in witness, is it not made void?'" (Of the Voyage of Earendil)

And of course, why would Manwe and Varda hold them to an oath which has caused so much strife, and which promises to cause more? Why should they desire the Feanorians to be held to an oath which causes them to murder and destroy other Elves? Maedhros refuses, still believing, or at least asserting, that some punishment by Eru awaits if they break the oath. Maglor somewhat grimly points out that given what they've done, punishment is their due one way or other other:

"'If none can release us,' said Maglor, 'then indeed the Everlasting Darkness shall be our lot, whether we keep the oath or break it; but less evil shall we do in the breaking.'" (Of the Voyage of Earendil)

Maglor acknowledges that they have done evil in pursuit of the oath and that they will continue to do evil if they do not choose to set it aside. Furthermore, that if they cannot be excused from the oath, they're likely to experience punishment either for breaking it or for the things they do in pursuit of it, so it's all the same in the end anyway. Yet Maedhros and Maglor instead make a free and conscious decision to continue their pursuit of the Silmarils.

They are a) well aware that they have done horrible, awful things trying to fulfill this oath; and b) aware that breaking it is an option. They choose not to. They have chosen not to this entire story.

And truthfully, even if they would be condemned to purgatory or whatever, it doesn't justify what they do. They chose to swear this oath, they have chosen to pursue it, and if they are willing to slaughter whomever they need to to protect themselves from the consequences of their own oaths, that still makes them selfish, wretched people who are willing to sacrifice anyone else to make sure they themselves stay safe.

Even if they were able to obtain the one Silmaril from Elwing, the oath is not fulfilled. Morgoth still has two. Everything they did to Doriath and the Havens at Sirion is worthless without the other two Silmarils, but they did it anyway; and even after the chaos wrought by their actions there, go ahead and slay Eonwe's guard after the War of Wrath to steal the Silmarils everyone else had rescued from Morgoth.

The Feanorians have done so much wrong that the Silmarils themselves reject them by the end. I don't know how else the narrative could make it clearer they are in the wrong. Tolkien implies that the oath was wicked from the very start, and always bound to lead the Feanorians into wrongful acts.

Lastly, I will point over at this meta I wrote a few months back about how if the Feanorians had obtained the Silmaril from Elwing, it would likely have doomed Middle-earth to Morgoth's rule.

In any case, I don't think anyone who escalates a situation to murder is ever in the right, and certainly not over something like property rights. If you can sympathize with the Feanorians about their perspective, you should be able to consider what the Feanorians are to the perspective of Luthien's line--and why they are not keen to work together with the Feanorians or give them what they want.

Not sure if you found any of this convincing, but I hope it's something to consider at least!

[satoruzlove]

hello again! first and foremost, thank you for doing my request 100000x more than what i imagined 🙇🏻‍♀️🫶 AND HERE I AM AGAIN lol i can't help but to imagine many scenarios with Haikyuu boys (courtesy of TikTok)

can i possibly request a scenario of atsumu (and whoever haikyuu boy you could imagine that certainly loves socializing) based on the tiktok trend where the boys are having a night out and they give their s/o food/money/or just something that makes their girl happy just to get their permission & telling them not to call/text/bother/find him for the whole night.

for better reference; https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS8jbW2rg/

- 🫧

my beloved bubble anon, FORGIVE ME FOR TAKING A GAJILLION YEARS WITH THIS. i was trying so hard to imagine writing it the right way around but i couldn’t stop myself from doing it the other way around!!!😭😭 i hope you don’t mind .

DONT TEXT ME, DONT CALL ME .

[ atsumu miya , rintarou suna ]

- one [1] ass slap in tsumu’s,touchiness, atsumu healing my daddy issues one ‘sweetheart’ at a time, rintaro almost strips, ALMOST. very soft angst , rin with an attitude lol-

a. miya !

tonight is your little reunion between your highschool friendgroup. fun, right?

no.

well, when you get there it will be but before you do wont. the reason for this is that your man child boyfriend has a habit of following you everywhere- it was actually the only reason he wanted to know everyone you spend time with. so he can always tag along and be with you 24/7, 365. you love him for it and it’s very endearing how he craves your presence but you couldn’t help but want a little alone time with some people that you’ve made memories with.

your group has been planning this about a month in advance, which gave you a month to decide how you wanted to go about keeping tsumu away. you thought about asking his friends to take him out, sending him to run errands but they all made you feel like you were committing a crime and trying to make sure atsumu stays in the dark about it.

discouraged, you had sat down to wallow in your own stupidity and opened your phone. scrolling through tiktok, you had found a solution to all your problems. a little video , no longer than 20 seconds, was gonna secure your fun night out with friends. said video showed a guy giving his girlfriend food in exchange for her not to call, text, email or even think about him. you reckoned that it would work on your blond lover too.

now you practically skip down the stairs barely able to see your feet because of the sheer amount of food in your hands. you even asked samu to make atsumu’s favorite rice balls and picked them up on your way back from work- safely hiding them in your bag. atsumu finally comes into sight when you reach the kitchen. he’s leaned up against the counter, hair messy and his honey eyes focused on the screen of his phone. he only looks up when you nearly trip- and his eyes widen.

“babe, what the hell-?” he tries, but you simply saunter over to the counter and look him dead in his eyes. first, you put everything down infront of you. “i’m going out with my high school friends and- before you ask i still love you- but i wanna go alone,so” atsumu’s eyes shoot up at the uncharacteristic seriousness in your voice, but he allows you to continue. you put down a bag of mcdonald’s, his favorite order with an extra large fry just how he likes, “ do not text me,” you take a bag of kfc , mainly wings that are extra hot because you know he loves to wash it down with coke,” do not call me,” as you put things down, you can see atsumu’s eyebrows drop and a pout grow on his pretty pink lips. finally you present the rice balls that samu made, and a coke, “ don’t email me, or smoke signal me, or anything. okay?” you finally finish, look up at him hopefully.

his lip is jutted out as he glances down at the items you used to bribe him and back to yours. you nearly start tapping your foot impatiently. atsumu leans down so for once, you two are eye to eye level. “ are ya sure you still love me?” he asks you softly. you think for a moment that he’s kidding, but the pause and loud swallow you hear give him away.immediately, you realise that you’ve screwed up. before you can answer, your boyfriend speaks again. “if you didn’t want me to come you could’a asked me to just.. stay here. i would have. ya didn’t have to go and spend all that time bribing me like i’m a mafia boss or somethin’” atsumu sighs, obviously disheartened and now walking away from you. you go to hold his bicep to stop him, but he easily moves out the way without making it look obvious.

you’re feeling really bad now, the dull look in his eyes eating into your tummy. “ i do still love you, tsum, don’t be dumb. i just,” you paused when he looks at you with a raised brow. he looks like he really couldn’t care less about your excuses right now. “i actually don’t have an excuse, i’m just being dumb,” your voice was small, timid from hoping that your boyfriend isn’t too upset. the last thing on your mind is the buzzing phone in your pocket but it’s the first in atsumu’s.

he turns again, getting a glass of water. “ answer it, go. have fun. just text me if you get drunk off your ass and i’ll come get ya, if ya aren’t sleeping at one of your friends’ places.” atsumu instructed you. you bite your lip in thought.quietly , you go up behind him. he pretends to not notice your presence, the warmth of your skin hovering over his clothed back. his eyes stay trained on his very important glass of water. your arms wrap around him gently at first but when you feel no protest, you get comfortable. he tuts, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. “ you’re gonna be late, yn. go.” and you nearly cry at him using your first name- but you soon realise that if he did what you had done, you’d be doing a lot worse than calling him a first name.

you inhale. deep, calming, hopeful. “ i’m not going,” you mumbled into his covered flesh. he fights a smile, affection creeping onto his skin. “ why? you seemed pretty interested in it a minute ago? i reckon you should go have fun with your little friends. god knows why ya wanna be here, with me, who you wanted to avoid all night.” as he talks, his tone is more playful , more pouty. you rub a thumb over his tummy, speaking into his back and causing vibrations that seem to warm his soul. “because i realise that i like you more than them and i screwed up,” you say. he nods curtly, eyes shiny with unshed tears that are now going away. “ good. i’m glad you know that.” he says.

your newly free arms are folded as you do your classic awkward smile- waiting for his verdict. “go change. we’re watching mulan.” atsumu tells you. before you walk away, you go closer to him.

“i’m sorry,” you say, tenderly putting a hand on his shoulder. “ i should’ve just asked you like a normal person. i wont do that again, promise.” you know you’re in the clear, his eyes soft and his own hands running up from your hips to your cheeks to hold them. he plants a kiss on your lips, affectionately holding your face until your cheeks squish slightly. “it was funny , kinda,” he mumbles. you huff air out your nose, shaking your head. “barely. i almost made you cry,” you reply. he shrugs. “‘s okay, sweetheart. i forgive ya. i wont crucify my baby just ‘cause ya don’t know how to communicate.” and you laugh at that. he releases your gorgeous face, placing a little slap on your ass. “ go on, get comfy. you got a whooole night of apology cuddles ta give me, lover.”

r. suna !

suna rintaro is apathetic, painfully apathetic.

everyone knows. it’s his resting bitch face, the monotone voice and hooded eyes that make people think that he doesn’t care. for others, it’s true, he doesn’t. when it comes to a news anchor or someone interviewing him he wouldn’t give them any time of his day if he wasn’t forced. he isnt the type to talk without purpose- and until you that purpose was only to tease people, communicate, or pass a sarcastic comment every once and a while.

but to you? suna rintaro was not himself , or what people have ideally plastered together of him in their heads. suna rintaro became rinnie, or rin. the rin who would hold your hands in his when it was cold or rub his cheek against you for fun, rin that kissed your nose and kissed your shoulders after you showered. rin who would lip sync any song he heard in the car to you.

rintarou became a completely different person around you; his walls of steel melting to a puddle and letting you pass. his heart became only for you. something that also changed was how tolerant he became to being around someone, that someone being you. he found himself wanting to be around you always, opting to come with you everywhere and always touching you in some way. no matter how much you writhed or attempted to sway his clinginess it never seemed to ebb away.

that is how you were put into this situation. standing across from him as he lain on your bed- all his favorite food, a new hoodie , and a $100 bill on top of it. he stared at you in absolute disbelief. “ .. so the reason i got you this is because i wanna go to the spa, and no. you cannot come.” you explain to him, tone firm but your heart nearly falling into your ass when he sat up with a bored look on his face. “ are you like,” he starts, picking up the gifts like they were toxic waste- only with two fingers, “ bribing me right now?” he asked. you pondered for a moment, “ basically. i am , yeah.” you reply. he looks up at you, green irises boring into yours as he tries to telepathically say that you’re kidding.

he sighs when he realises that you arent. he gets up, his t shirt draping down his large figure as he collects all the stuff and places it in your arms. “ don’t want it, and let me go shower,” he mumbles, walking past you. you drop the items back onto your shared bed, following him like a lost puppy. the sound of water wafts to your ears as you reach the bathroom, rin now shirtless in front of you. you look at him, confused.

“ showering.. for?” you ponder out loud. he blows air from his nose, pulling his sweat pants down and adjusting the water. your boyfriend, only in boxers, turns to you. “ so we can go to the spa, you silly thing.” he teases , hand coming up to pinch your cheek lovingly. you scoff. “ i just said that you can’t come, rintaro.” and he hisses in faux pain.“full first name? ouch.” your boyfriend jests. before he can hop into the shower, his hands hook around his boxers and-

“rintaro.” you call him sternly and he laughs wholeheartedly. running a hand through his brown hair he’s now inches away from you. “you did say that i can’t come, but you’re wrong. i’m literally getting ready to right now,” he says casually. you poke at his built chest, eyes flitting up beautifully to meet his own. “rintaro i said no, just stay here, you don’t even like the spa,” you were whining now, and his heart squeezed ever so slightly at your childish tone.

“true, i don’ like the spa, but i like you.” he smiles , hands rubbing your shoulders. he places a kiss on your nose, directing you towards the bathroom door. “so, before i get naked infront of you and we both end up staying here, go away.” and before you could protest - he was gone.

[schizotypal-culture-is]

I wonder if im the only schizotypal that doesn’t feel weird/odd/eccentric, which makes me suspect that i might be misdiagnosed since its basically called “the odd or eccentric disorder”..? I do realise that my thoughts are bizzarre sometimes and that i cant relate to others but i still i dont feel weird, i dont feel anything? Neither normal or weird. I especially become anxious if i get noticed by people so by default i try to be “normal” but still get paranoid by simply existing, but thats beside the point, i dont feel eccentric or anything😞 im so confused

Sent in: May 26, 2024

I have an answer for you that’ll hopefully clear up your confusion!

tl;dr this is due to the egosyntonic nature of PDs, pwStPD can recognize that others perceive them and their behavior as being “odd” and “eccentric” without feeling odd and eccentric, and without identifying with other’s perceptions of them

If any other pwStPD/traits would like to talk about their experience with this, I’ll be using the tag “#egosyntonic” for the ask feature, and anon is on!

Egodystonic and Egosyntonic

There tend to be two classifications of disorders: egodystonic and egosyntonic.

Disorders that are egodystonic, such as depression, anxiety, OCD, etc are disorders where the symptoms of the disorder do not align with the individual’s sense of self, ie the person with depression, anxiety, OCD, etc are aware that they’re “sick” and “unwell” and deviate from the norm. People who have an anxiety disorder know their anxious thoughts and feelings, anxiety and panic attacks, fears and behaviors are not “them”, and that they are behaving and reacting irrationally. The same can be said about depression, and the obsessions and compulsions in OCD, etc.

Disorders that are egosyntonic, such as personality disorders and anorexia, are disorders where the symptoms of the disorder DO align with the individual’s sense of self. This means someone with an egosyntonic disorder sees their behavior as normal. Because PDs at their core are a dysfunction in intrapersonal (a person’s internal perceptions and experiences) as well as interpersonal (dealing with other people) disorder, this means that when pwPDs have a problem with someone else (for instance, say a person or situation makes them split) a pwPDs won’t realize they themselves are the ones having an issue (they’re the ones triggered and splitting) they see the other person as being the sole issue (I can’t believe that person did that to me, and now I’m going to react because I feel justified in my emotions and my behavior, however I’m unaware that no one else sees this situation the way I do because I have a personality disorder and don’t interact the world the way persotypicals do. I think because my thoughts and emotions which are informed by my PD are normal, therefore my outward behavior is normal. But it’s not, and people view me negatively. I don’t see myself as the problem though, and think everyone else around me are just unfair and judgmental).

Now, for StPD specifically, our quasi-psychotic thinking and behavior feels very normal and natural to us because of the egosyntonic nature of PDs, but to everyone else it makes us come off as “odd” and “eccentric”, even though you yourself don’t feel or think of yourself as “odd” or eccentric”.

And there are now 2 things to keep in mind here I’d like to discuss: 1.) you can be made aware of being odd and eccentric through experience and interaction with other people and therapy/research and practiced awareness and 2.) the StPD split is more about acceptance/ostracization (I’m so sorry I don’t know how to spell that word and I messed it up so bad autocorrect can’t recognize and fix it 🥲 there’s a StPD-culture-is moment for the blog 😅)

You can be made aware of being odd and eccentric through experience and interaction with other people and therapy/research and practiced awareness.

I first learned that I wasn’t as normal/good at masking as I thought I was when I first started college. I had a friend/classmate tell me I acted really weird and this really shocked me (for a number of reasons, most of them stemming from childhood abuse). There was a running joke between my classmates that I wasn’t human but actually an alien in disguise because there was just something about my behavior that felt “off” to them. This same thing repeated when I got a job, then switched shifts. People would jokingly and endearingly say I wasn’t human, but either an alien, or had an “uncanny valley” effect about me.

During all this, I had learned I had StPD and realized that is what was more than likely why people perceived me the way they did, it also provided me clarity and context as to why I was bullied in school growing up- because I just gave off some Weird Vibe to non-schizos. But here’s thing- and based off of submissions that have been shared to this blog, I feel certain that this is many other schizotypal’s experience with this as well -despite being made aware that I’m odd/eccentric/weird, I still don’t understand what exactly it is I do that makes people see me that way, because my thoughts and feelings, and as a result, my behavior all feels normal and natural to me, because of the egosyntonic nature of StPD.

I have actually asked some trusted people what exactly it is about me that makes me seem weird, and some of them were able to give me answers! Someone said I don’t express a full range of emotion and so it creeped them out a little that only expressed myself in a limited way. Someone said I talk in a monotone despite not having a full and droning voice, one person said I “walk like a serial killer” because I kept my arms at my sides instead of swinging them. So asking people has given me insight. Also, doing research about StPD has helped! I know not to openly talk about my ideas of reference and magical thinking, for example, or that if I get paranoia about A Presence or Thing being in the house with me, I should rely on my Special Safe Items instead of reach to someone because then I’ll be judged. I also know those things are specific to my reality, which makes it less scary. I remind myself it’s a Me Thing (even though the fear is very real!)

The StPD split is more about acceptance/ostracization (sorry again for the spelling!)

As discussed [ in this post ] the StPD split is about acceptance and ostracization. This is due to our social anxiety and paranoia! Social acceptance means we don’t have to fear those around us, and that we’re safe (in a similar way to PPD, and also like PPD it’s going to be extremely difficult to actually feel safe and accepted by people, more than likely due to past experiences and trauma with bullying). But if people judge us and cut us off, then it causes us to split, and our social anxiety and paranoia get triggered. People are laughing at us behind our backs, everyone at work has a group chat were they just laugh at how stupid and dumb and weird you are, etc and all those other social anxiety and paranoia based ideas of reference. (As a side note, most pwStPD just isolate altogether to avoid the possibility of being judged/socially ostracized/made fun of/bullied and harassed/etc).

Now, if you’ve never had someone come to you and let you know that you’re perceived as being weird, odd, eccentric, etc. (or otherwise gained that knowledge yourself via research or therapy) then you’re not going to have that general insight as to why people treat you the way you do. But I feel like for most pwStPD/traits, the older you get and the more interactions you have, eventually you’ll come for realize (through research or experience) you’re Odd, Eccentric, Weird, etc., and learn to assign what behaviors are “acceptable” and what needs to be masked/hidden/minimized/etc. This doesn’t mean your thoughts, feelings and behaviors suddenly stop feeling natural and normal, but you learn to try and mask them or learn how to cope with them, ie you learn that being perceived as “odd/eccentric/strange/weird/etc” = social ostracization, and so they can get used interchangeably in discussions! And of course, all this can be down without actually feeling odd, eccentric or weird. It’s more of a logical, trial-and-error type thing than it is a feeling. It you understanding it’s how others perceive you, and that perception is the root of their interaction with you (and interaction determines what side of the split a pwStPD is on) but that doesn’t mean you have to identify with or as other’s perception of you*.

*and as a side note, while the initial realization that others perceive you differently than how you perceive yourself can absolutely be a mindfuck, once you learn to accept and live with it, it can really help you with the overall quasi-psychotic nature of StPD (and the rest of the schizotaxic PDs!). People see you one way, you see yourself another way; people are living in their shared version of reality, you are living your own unique version of reality. You can understand both of these truths at once (which is called “double bookkeeping”) to them, you’re strange and odd, and they live in an apsychotic reality; but for you, you’re reactions are quite normal and sound for the version of reality that you live in.

[mazzystar24]

Here's the thing and I'm not saying it's ok, it's obviously not in any way, shape or form, but since I'm assuming you have all the tags of bucktommy filtered perhaps you haven't seen it. Most of the bucktommy blogs (including ones that also ship buddie) have gotten many many hate asks, insulting them, accusing them of something, and just being incredibly disgusting. You literally can't go to the bucktommy tag without finding many posts of buddie fans who tag bucktommy saying shit about the ship, the actors, and the people who ship them. Saying that bucktommy shippers must feel threatened by buddie going canon and that's why they are rude is absolutely crazy (though there might be some that do, who knows?). Now, I'm sure that going to the buddie tag is also hard to do and there must be people who post shit about buddie and I know there are many blogs that are anti the extreme buddie fans. So, what I'm trying to say is that both ships have people that are purposely posting things to make the others mad, that are actively trying to continue this -frankly- stupid ship war. And they are being racist (on both sides, not just bucktommy shippers, I saw a bucktommy blog from a POC person get an ask calling them the n* word) and just plain awful. So, assuming that buddie blogs are better and do nothing wrong is incorrect, and it goes the other way as well. I really don't understand how people can be so mean, and so self-centered over two ships that who even knows what's going to happen? Everyone, absolutely everyone should do better. No one is better than the other one.

Hi anon!

Okay in case you don’t know my blog here is my usual warning that I will be bullet pointing but I promise I’m not trying to be curt/rude (cos you genuinely don’t seem to be on the attack or anything) I just can like explain my thought process better when I can like break it down into chunks 🫡

• I’m assuming you saw either this post which I do end with saying “Like we get it some buddie fans were dicks to you or you disagree or they did something or whatever the fuck but dont start being dicks to an entire fandom???” (Which I feel like it kinda gets the point across of like in general what people shouldn’t do but also it was in the context of me saying that that day there was a surge in the anti buddie fans in the tag, but I also do acknowledge that there will have been buddie fans who have been dicks to them, so I never “assumed that buddie fans are better and never did anything wrong”) Or this one which is just a whole post about why people shouldn’t be misusing tags rather than making people block them and obviously I’m talking in both posts about what I’ve personally seen which is the anti buddie accounts but the principle applies for both and I agree 100% and I did actually make a post earlier than that here where I do talk about both ends and misusing tags as well as not using discourse tags and I talk about both the anti bucktommy/ toxic buddie fans and anti buddie/toxic bucktommy fans so while I understand that you may not have seen that post and out of context it may seem like I only view one side as being better than the other I actually have pointed out before that it’s both and I urge both to just be respectful in fandom spaces, that’s why I even mentioned in the post where I’m complaining about people spamming the buddie tag that I always just politely ask whichever one I see (which again based off what I engage with happens to be the people spamming the buddie tag) but I did make a whole three parter post about how people can improve fandom spaces and how everyone should be doing better

• I actually don’t have the bucktommy tags filtered because as I’ve mentioned before I genuinely don’t dislike them and enjoy seeing their scenes and dynamic they’re just not endgame for me

• okay the racism is a more complicated topic so I do wanna preface this with saying I’m a poc before I have any toxic fans jumping into my inbox calling me a “dumb white bitch” again 😭😭- I don’t know how the racism toward the bucktommy fandom has been -not that any amount of racism is fine obviously like genuinely to those blogs that got shit said I genuinely hope you’re fine- but the toxic bucktommy fans have become a wholeass section of the fandom being racist, which is why I point it out because it’s not one or two incidences but rather an entire subset pushing racist narratives or just posting shit that’s racist u(and again my heart fully goes out to the bucktommy fans who had to deal with people being racist to them I am just personally going based off what I’ve seen and it’s the fact that there are SO MANY racist anti buddie accounts if that makes sense so it’s more widespread in that case)

• as for the comment about toxic bucktommy fans feeling threatened and that’s why there was a rise, i actually didn’t say that but it was pointed out to me by people in my comments and I was like that makes sense and honestly it does because it absolutely tracks that when one side of the fandom is feeling optimistic about something that hints at their ship the other side’s toxic fans will want to put a damper on that, just like I can probably guess that toxic buddie fans probably hounded the bucktommy tag around the time the hospital kiss happened, like it just makes sense

Thanks anon for the ask because I genuinely do agree with most of what you said, and you were respectful with it which I appreciate, but I genuinely urge you in the politest way I can to just check out people’s accounts before sending an ask like this because context is genuinely key and people aren’t gonna be reiterating that it happens on either end when talking about something in the context of one end if that makes sense? And I personally do try to acknowledge it as much as possible even in the posts that I assume you were referring to🫶🫶🫶