#because if he was truly as bad as all that he wouldn't have survived the war for so long with such a position

[jadeleechwife]

Hii!

Could I request platonic Boothill, Gallagher, Sunday and Blade with a teen reader that kind of just stuck to them because they have no parents?

(idk if I can request platonic hcs, pls lmk if not <33)

hello!! thanks for your request, I hope you like it!! <33 and it's fine really, I also enjoy platonic hcs. sorry for the bad grammar

Boothill

- When Boothill found you, you were heavily injured, bleeding. Alongside you, there were two adult figures, both lifeless.

- Boothill was in the middle of a mission that just happens to be in a place that was recently attacked by Anti-matter Legion. He couldn't help but notice your figure, somehow still alive.

- He took you with him to treat your injuries. When you woke up, you were scared, noticing to be in a place that isn't your home, your parents missing and with a cowboy cyborg man watching you.

- You asked where your parents were, but Boothill just sighed, admitting that they won't be with you so soon.

- You got the message and immediately started crying in pure despair, you were alone. Alone in this world with nobody to lend you a hand.

- Boothill could only remember his time when he lost everything, when he lost his kid and family. He felt the closest feeling to what should be an ache to his chest, and suggested that if you wanted to, you could stay with him. He knew he was being impulsive, as a teen living with him could only mean putting them in danger, but he could never let someone who desperately needs help like you to be left behind.

- You were wary about his request at first, but you didn't see any options beside accepting it, as you had nowhere to go.

- And so Boothill became your reference.

- To ensure your safety, he taught you how to handle guns, how to aim in the right spots to take your enemy down, and practiced your reflexes so you wouldn't be easily hit.

- His trainings were all strict, but it was all to keep you safe. He always tried to cheer you up with jokes and reassured you when you weren't doing well in your practices.

- Even after so many training, he still would be really protective of you, being able to beat his targets while also looking after your safety

- "Don'tcha worry kid, while you're with me, no one's gonna hurt ya." - He winked while you both were preparing yourselves to another mission.

Bonus: On your birthday, Boothill would gift you a similar hat that he is using to you, after all you were teammates now, right?

Gallagher

- Gallagher found you by pure chance while strolling the streets.

- He saw a teenager sneaking through a store and and carefully putting something in their pocket while leaving.

- He follows you and eventually corners you to ask you questions.

- You explained that you are only doing that for survival. Your parents sacrificed themselves to keep you safe from an unknown attack, making you completely alone.

- Gallagher listened carefully and couldn't help but also somehow identify himself with you in his darker times, completely lost, without a place to go.

- He told you to bare with him a bit and follow, while he has an idea.

- After a long discussion with the Bloodhound Family, they allowed Gallagher to watch over you with the condition that you don't interfere in any of their duties.

- You were truly surprised at first, as Gallagher didn't miss a beat to somehow take care of you. As much you were suspicious about second intentions, you rather try and see if that was a trap instead of refusing and choose to live only by surviving.

- He said you both will be living by an accord: he would take care of you and guarantee a better life, while you promise to never cause any sort of trouble again and also giving back the thing you stole it. For you, it was a win-win situation, so you had no complains.

- Gallagher was a mysterious man to you, full of secrets, always with a tired look. But even so, he was always ready to teach you many things and tips so you can grown up and be a wise adult.

- Also, in any case of potential danger, he was always prepared to keep you safe, hiding you in perfect spots, or keeping you behind him while he takes care of the threat. He was a silent but caring parental figure to you.

- "I didn't have much opportunities to have someone to guide me to be a better person. I don't want you to be like me, kid. I want you to be whoever you want, and better." - He said one day while sipping a drink he prepared and you also drinking a juice he made.

- You didn't get much of what he said, but you knew he was always trying to teach you only the best. He was hiding a lot and you knew it, but you believed it was for your own good.

Bonus: He teaches you the basic of mixing drinks and sometimes you both have nights where you can experiment combinations of drinks all you like! He always drinks everything you create even when the taste is questionable.

Sunday

- Sunday and the Astral Express decided to relax a bit at a nearby stop when he found you.

- You were wandering, with a hollowing look in your eyes, seeming completely lost.

- He decided to approach you, asking if you were okay and where your parents were.

- "I lost my parents. I lost everything. All it remains is.... void. Nothing. I am nothing."

- Sunday eyes widened at the realization you were just a teenager, lost and unprotected making him remind of his sister, and his deep fear of losing her and let her all alone.

- He asked you to follow him and if you wanted to stay with him and his crew for a bit. You just shrugged off, "it's not like if it matters or not", you thought.

- The Astral Express welcomed you with open arms, touched by your situation, and told you can stay as much as you like until you find somewhere you can call a home.

- Even if the others were extremely kind to you, Sunday was the one approaching you the most, including you in every situation. He couldn't help but try to make you see him as an older brother figure to make you feel safer.

- It took a while for you to open up, but as Sunday keep tolding you his and the others stories, making sure you were always comfortable, and reassuring you to take your time to adapt to the new environment, you finally felt like everything is ok.

- As you discover that Sunday would be temporarily in the Astral Express, you insisted that you want to go with him when he finally finds his promised land. Sunday was surprised, specially because you called him big brother as you stated your wish.

- With a tender smile on his face, he promised he will always be with you, and you both will be searching for this land together.

- "Don't be scared little one, the future is uncertain, but as long we stick together, we don't have to fear anything."

Bonus: Sunday writes a letter to Robin saying he wants you both to meet each other, stating that the family got bigger. He cannot wait until the moment you three can be together.

Blade

- Him and the Stellaron Hunters were traveling around following Elio's script when they found you, almost on the verge of death.

- Kafka already knew it was part of the destiny to finding you, and asked Blade to handle the situation.

- He was confused at first, not knowing much what to do, but even so he scooped your fragile body onto his arms and took you alongside to the Stellaron Hunters.

- After some weeks you finally opened your eyes and saw Blade on your side. He told you he knew you would wake up today and was checking up how you were feeling.

- You said you were lost, and still feeling pain, but you remembered a strong man carrying you to safety. "It was you, right?" you asked.

- After you were completely recovered, Kafka always made sure you were always by Blade's side, making Blade teaching you the basic of self defense, even if against his will.

- Somehow, after passing so much time with Blade, you got attached to him, seeing as some sort of big brother figure. You wanted to follow his steps, be strong and relentless as him. You admired him.

- Blade, on the other side, tried to push you away as much as possible. Firstly because he thought you were a hassle to handle, but then he realized it was because he wanted to protect you. He was a monster, and that was no lie to him, and the last thing he wanted was ending up hurting you somehow.

- He didn't know how to handle you most of the times, as he was not used to deal with teenagers, but even that, he started to enjoying your company, even if never admitting that.

- "Listen kid, one day, when my journey reaches to an end, I am going to die. Don't think that as a bad thing. It's my most deserved rest. Until that day, I am going to make you stronger. You will never be like me, but take that as a blessing. You will continue your journey on your own, but this time, you won't need to be scared. Take the obstacles of your journey as challenges to reach your highest potential. Don't waste anything, got it?" He said that to you one day.

- Even if you were scared of losing someone you cared for again, you already understood everything he said. You smiled, and promised to be the strongest warrior someone ever seen.

Bonus: On the beginning of your training, Blade was teaching you how to reach for the enemies weak spot and made you stab him on his chest. You were terrified as seeing the sword crossing his body completely, your mind going blank. Blade couldn't help but laugh as he takes off the weapon watch your reaction as his body regenerates. It was the first time you thought he was super cool.

[the-lark-ascending69]

> be a robin buckley fan

> be lesbian

> project on robin

> look up "internalized homophobia robin buckley" on tumblr because it's cathartic

> 3/4 of the posts are about st3ddie or just about steve

[teatitty]

I love writing Dandelion because he's a performer. An unreliable narrator of his own life. He exaggerates and lies through his teeth and will dig and dig and dig into the backstory of a friend but clam up the second you ask him anything about his own and find ways to deflect and demure. He's hyperaware of how people view him and just doesn't seem to care. If you think he's a silly bard without a brain that's how he'll act for you and if you only see him as a flirt who makes terrible jokes that's how he'll act for you, he puts on whatever mask he thinks people want most from him which is why it's so compelling that his bestest friend in the whole wide world is Geralt - a Witcher who can effortlessly see through it all and strip him down to his bones if he wants to

Truly the mortifying ordeal of being Known

[absolutedestinyapocalypsse]

i love how as you read more into tlt, the ninth house seems more and more normal. Like if i'm at an immoral evil government competition, and i use human fat as soap and animate skeletons to do menial labor, i'm gonna LOSE if my competition is the third house, represented by ianthe "who HASN'T eaten human flesh and fucked a corpse" tridentarius. My weird skeleton thing seems normal, suddenly. Well-adjusted, even. It's recycling. They're using resources in a sustainable way. Normal and regular and productive for a post-climate change apocalypse universe.

People go on and on about how Muir drops you into gtn hearing from the person who knows the least about whats happening, and does not hand hold the reader through the crazy shit that occurs, and that's all true. It truly is a crazy writing decision to make your first pov character come from the universe's equivalent of amish fundamentalists. But the reader is actually done a huge favor being dropped into the ninth house first, because we already understand that space is cold and what catholic nuns are, and what goths look like, and what lesbians are. Very little time is wasted in the first chunk of gtn ripping hair out of your head wondering what the fuck is going on, because for all of its strangeness, the ninth house is already the most familiar thing we're gonna get.

Because THEN we learn that this whole universe's medieval chivalry system is designed to groom people from CHILDREN to not only be exploited and used as human batteries for necromancers, but to LIKE it. to wax poetic about it. to confuse it for love, to write fucking academic papers about it! Then we learn about planet flipping, an act so horrific and violent it turns the planet's soul into a massive vengeful monster capable of killing GOD. Like what do you MEAN the animals "change"? Is this why noodle has six legs? I would MUCH prefer to wear skeleton makeup and repent forever if the alternative was to witness my family dog grow TWO EXTRA LIMBS because the planet he lived on fucking died. Suddenly, living in the asscrack of a planet where no light gets in seems like a sweet deal when the whole solar system is lit by a sun that MAKES YOU GO CRAZY. The ninth house's WORST sin, killing 200 babies to make Harrow, a waste of resources and an act so terrible it haunts Harrow for the entire span of her life, is like a BLIP compared to the death count Jod's empire. God even hears about it and he's like, no big deal! The cohort probably kills that amount of people in a DAY.

And its ALSO tragic because you realize that all of this trauma and abuse that Gideon goes through is not really because of the ninth house at all. It's really just an individual skill issue that she wasn't treated with compassion. Nobody hated her because she's jesus or a bomb, nobody even KNOWS she's a bomb. It's just Priamhark and Pelleamena being deeply guilty and scared people that motivates her treatment, and absolutely nothing else.

They did something bad, and they know it, and Gideon survived it, and they can't kill her to cover it up, and that's IT. They killed themselves for pride, because they were afraid of the consequences of their actions (both the baby killing and Harrow opening the tomb) coming back to bite them. You can argue this is the catholicism of it all, and I wouldn't say you're wrong, but compared to the cavalier system, where exploitation is in the very lining of the house's institutions, the ninth house is really removed from the space empire's blood factory. This is compared to the fourth house where they have tons of children to be CANNON FODDER to join the cohort at fucking 14, compared to the eight house uncle nephew fuckery, even the fifth house which actually does seems nice to live on but also seems to have the fourth house in some sort of fucked up political bear hug??? (maybe the fourth house has so many kids in order to fight the fifth's battles? which is EXACTLY what jod's whole empire is about; politely stirring your tea and acting nice while you destroy everything) compared to ALL OF THAT, the cruelty that Gideon faces is really more a bug of the ninth's system than a feature.

There's nothing baked into the culture and everyday life of the ninth house that necessitated that cruelty; in fact, for such a pragmatic and resource-scarce place, it's WEIRD that a strong able-bodied young person was treated like a waste of space and resources. It could just have easily not happened, if Harrow's parents had been different people. Maybe they were products of their environment, but so was Harrow, and she values Gideon's life SO MUCH that she'd literally rather carve out parts of her own brain than exploit her. Gideon grows up knowing really NOTHING about cavaliers, so remote from the horrors of the empire that she develops an idea of what the cohort is from porn magazines. And in a lot of ways, that upbringing was desolate and terrible, and in a lot of other ways it literally DID NOT HAVE TO BE.

Gideon's MAIN THING is that she wants to be useful, to be needed, to be loved and it SUCKS that she couldn't even get it in the one place where she was actually an invaluable resource, where the death empire had the weakest reach. Gideon can't even blame her lack of love on the fucked up chivalry system like everyone else can because it JUST WASNT REALLY RELEVENT!?!?! This is like if i rolled up to the trauma competition and everyone else was raised in a nuclear warzone by wolves or something and i grew up in like, the suburbs and was raised by teachers and i somehow STILL WON. truly what the fuck guys.

[multific]

Moonlight 

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Wife!Reader

Warnings: childbirth (no detailed description)

Summary: Aemond loves his little wife, so naturally, when you give birth to your first son, Aemond falls in love even deeper. However, when a simple refusal of his breaks your heart, it will be difficult for him to win you back.

It was hard to keep you close. You were much like Aemond, a true fighter. You had a fire in you which couldn't be questioned. A fire towards him, pure love. And now, fire towards your son.

Aeren was only born a week ago, yet you protected him fiercely like a dragon.

And you refused to let the small child out of your hands.

When Aemond was allowed in the room, he saw the blood, he heard your screams and many times, he wanted to barge in but he knew he couldn't.

So, once he was allowed in, someone informed him that it was a boy and that you were in bad shape. 

Aemond could see it, you looked beyond tired, yet you smiled.

But your smile didn't last long.

Aemond refused to hold his son. 

"Give him to me." he heard your voice as he looked from the woman holding his son to you. You looked angry. Way too angry.

It was too late when Aemond realised what he had just done.

He refused to hold his own child.

And since then, you didn't speak a word to him.

You slept in a different room with your baby, sometimes, late at night, he heard the cries. He wanted to get up and go to you but he couldn't, his guilt was overbearing. 

"You should put a leash on her, brother. If I had a wife like that, she wouldn't be sleeping in another room." Aegon taunted his brother daily. 

One day, you were in the gardens, walking with your son in your arms when Aegon spoke up.

Aemond never heard his brother speak with such longing.

"I truly wish she was mine." 

Aemond looked at his brother who was watching you.

"But she's mine." was his simple and firm reply.

But you truly weren't.

You used to be, now, you just sat next to him during dinners. 

One night, you excused yourself, and he followed you.

In an empty corridor, he spoke up.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he knew why. He very well knew why.

"I'm sorry, My Prince." you turned and looked at him. "I believe you are mistaken. I'm not avoiding you, I just hate to see the disappointment on your face." this surprised Aemond. "I gave birth to a child you refused to even look at. I loved you, Prince Aemond, I truly did. But I love my child more. And if you cannot look at him, you won't get to look at me. Fill your bed with whores for all I care. Goodnight." 

"You are mistaken." he said, not letting you leave, but you did grab the handle. "You-You were in that bed, crying, screaming and bleeding for hours. I couldn't do anything. And when they let me in, the blood... so much... they told me you were weak, you survived but you needed a lot of rest. How-How could I hold my child when the love of my life almost died? How could I look at him when I was worried to even look at you? I feared you would die giving birth. I was shaking. I feared losing you and my child. That is why I didn't hold him. I was scared." you stood there, your hand on the door, you looked away from his eyes.

"Then you could have just fucking say so, Aemond! For fucks sake!"

"That is not very lady-like."

"FUCK lady-like, you made me believe you hate me and our son! I believed I disappointed you since you wanted a daughter."

"I said I would be happy either way. My emphasis was on a girl because I feared if you had a daughter, you would see that as disappointing my bloodline."

"You are fucking terrible at communicating." you opened the door and walked into the huge room in which you stayed the last couple of weeks.

Aemond followed you, and watched as you walked over to the small bed and picked up your son. "Next time, you should just tell me. Letting me assume things clearly don't work out." 

"Of course." a small smile found its way onto his lips, next time, it was the promise of a future, a promise of more, something he could work towards. He walked over to you after closing the door. "I wish to hold him." you handed him the small child who didn't even stir in his sleep. "Aeren you named him I recall." Aemond's attention was now fully on his son as you decided to leave the two alone after watching them for a couple of minutes.

You got changed and when you arrived back, Aemond was sitting on the bed, his son on his chest.

"Some nights I heard his cries. It broke my heart but I broke yours far more. I apologise for not being clear and for causing you pain. I am truly sorry."

"I'm sorry as well. I should have asked." you said as you sat down next to him. "I will have to feed him soon."

"I will stay here with you."

You smiled as the moon shined through the window, illuminating the room a little more, helping the fire so you could see your husband's face.

"I love you so much Aemond."

"I love you too, My Queen." you giggled, moving closer to him as he leaned down to kiss you.

You two kissed in the moonlight until your son made it clear that he was hungry.

It all made you look towards a better future.

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse  @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[hannieehaee]

content: bf!vernon, first date, reader is implied to be a goddess basically, vernon is down bad horribly, a kiss, suggestions of going further than kissing, fluff, etc.

part 1, part 2

wc: 698

a/n: this is a response to a request by @straykidsstanforeverandever so sorry it took me this long to get to this!!

masterlist

vernon was in over his head.

when he'd first asked you out, it had truly been an out of character moment for him. at least as far as it concerned you.

because when it came to you, vernon was a complete mess. it didn't matter that you'd been friends for a while, he still had no idea how to act around you.

especially now, as he walked you home after what he believed to have been a life-changing first date.

and well, he hoped that feeling had been mutual.

he was sure his hand was clammy as he held onto yours, but he tried to will the thought away. he didn't want to let go of your hand, so he powered through it. you didn't say anything, so he hoped maybe it was shared sweat. not that that would really make it any better.

"you're thinking really loudly," you broke him out of his thoughts, squeezing his hand.

"uh, sorry, i was just thinking, uhm, my hand's kinda sweaty, isn't it?"

god, what an idiot.

but you just laughed. didn't even bother to unlock your fingers, but instead squeezing his hand once more, beginning to swing your interlocked hands in a jovial manner.

"it's fine, non. it's cute that you're nervous," and then you gave him another one of those award-winning smiles that had him reeling. it was like you were rooting against him.

"oh, uh, that's good. yeah, i am nervous. in case it wasn't obvious. did you have a good time? i did. i had a great time."

his mouth had a tendency of going a mile ahead of him any time it came to speaking to you.

"yeah, i had a great time, vernon. i'm kind of sad it's over, honestly."

hell yeah. he'd knocked it out of the water.

if he were a little braver (or maybe just not a complete mess while around you), he'd suggest extending the date. not that he was expecting anything further than hand holding. he just would've liked to spend more time with you. maybe even the whole night. wait, but not like that, just-

"well, we're here."

oh, right. you had a destination to get to. and now you were there.

vernon kicked rocks under his feet, sad it was time to say goodbye. you stood in front of him now, making him mourn the hold of your hand the second it banished.

before he could actually muster it in him to do anything, — kiss you goodnight? or maybe a hug or something less daring? — you interrupted his thoughts again. you were always better at these things than he was.

"so, wanna come in?"

"oh, oh you want me to- i thought-"

"what, did you want to kiss me goodnight?"

were you in his head?

"we can always do both."

"huh?"

smooth, hansol. smooth

"c'mere," you nodded at him, taking a few baby steps towards him, almost if daring him.

"yeah, i ..."

your hands went to his shoulders, giving up in waiting for him and pulling him down for a kiss. when vernon's brain regained consciousness, he began kissing back, wrapping his arms on your waist and ensuring you stayed glued to him.

this wasn't your first kiss, per say, but it was the first time vernon really got to feel what it was like to be kissed by you.

safe to say that he was instantly addicted to the feeling.

when you pulled away, he pathetically trailed behind you up until he realized the kiss was over. but you giggled at him, so he didn't feel embarrassed. it was worth it if he made you laugh.

"that was nice," you smiled shyly at him.

you were surely going to kill him. he couldn't stand how pretty you looked after a kiss. your lips were a little more swollen than usual and your eyes glassy with want. vernon knew he wouldn't survive coming into your apartment — even if all intentions were innocent.

"c'mon, let me make you something to drink. promise i'll be good," you quipped before unlocking your door and dragging him in by the hand.

and he followed willingly, just very happy to be there.

[itsgrimeytime]

like father, like son || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!Reader

AVAILABLE ON AO3

request for @zomb-1-egutzz

Inspiration: I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Taking care of Carl, was like instinct. Ever since you've met him, you've just cared for him like your own. You don't know why, you just slotted into his side. And you thought that was pretty simple. But, what you had never thought about, was what it would mean for Rick.

TWs: mention of Lori's death, mention of Hershel's death, mention of Beth's death, angst, crying, essentially a panic attack, pent-up emotions, cursing, blood, gunshot wounds, injuries, unrequited love (but not really), and all things TWD.

[[A/N: hey bestie <333, hope you like it. I write as a stress reliever but this one kinda hurt a little bit. And just fyi, Carl is alive and well, (canon is not real, so it will not hurt me). Also, Rick is down bad in this. Terribly down bad. Enjoy :))) ]]

You were a long-time family friend of the Greene's, and when you had nowhere else to go, you went to Hershel's farm. Even before the apocalypse, you helped when you could on the farm, and you knew all of them really well. A little like they were family.

But when it all started... everything went to shit for you pretty quickly.

And you... you had nowhere else to go.

With your family's blood on your hands and visions of unhinged jaws (that you didn't think you'd ever wash away), you ran as fast as you could. You just let your feet guide you and ended up on the Greene farm.

You still remember how hard they hugged you when you showed up, even with the blood (their blood) all over you. They held you then and kept you breathing for a long time. You don't know what you would've done without them.

But one day (after weeks of being helpless and grieving a loss you just couldn't get over, not really), you just pushed it all down with one motto: keep breathing.

You didn't get to enjoy life anymore, how could you? The world was ending, and all you needed to do was stay alive.

You didn't have to like it.

So you asked Hershel how to shoot a gun, and taught yourself how to use a knife. You knew Hershel didn't like it, the violence, but you wouldn't hear it. Because if your family had lost their lives, you sure as hell weren't losing yours.

The Greenes were worried about you, you could tell. Every day that went by where you didn't smile or laugh, and instead, practiced shooting bottles or killing a few walkers for the thrill of it, they stared at you just a little longer. With just a mix of worry and pity.

You didn't want to worry them, but you were just doing what you had to, to survive.

If you thought about your family... you'd probably run into the walkers. Tear the life out of your body yourself. How were you supposed to enjoy life when they got that privilege ripped away? It wasn't fair.

So, you avoided everything else and kept your focus on five things: breathing, shelter, protection, water, and food. That was it. You would even offer to go get things out of your own volition, and all your trips made you good at killing walkers. You did it effortlessly early on, and you're pretty sure the Greenes couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.

But everything changed when a Dad showed up begging Hershel to save his kid.

That day had made your head spin, seeing a little boy have a gunshot wound. It made your eyes burn, and your head fill with what plagued your nightmares (unhinged jaws and bloody hands). You avoided the kid at all costs.

You hadn't initially known Rick, or even really wanted to (him, Lori, and Shane were definitely far too much for you to handle) but you were kind of the mediator. Hershel hated the violence that his group had, but he loved you. And Rick's group agreed with your 'violent' ways, so naturally, you sat right in the middle.

You didn't want it, perse, but you got used to it pretty quickly. You truly couldn't count on both hands how many times you had to step physically in between Hershel and Rick. So, somehow, someway, you'd earned his trust and respect.

That being said, you didn't really talk. Rick had a lot on his shoulders, with a pregnant wife, an injured son, and whatever the hell he and Shane had going on (you stayed the fuck away from that). And you weren't really a 'get to know me' kind of person at the time.

But, everything shifted when his kid got better.

You watched him kind of roam around the farm a lot. Rick and Lori had a lot going on, you understood that, and you know Rick tried but he still looked... lonely. And there was something heavy in you that knew he wasn't going to really have a childhood, that he lost something so precious.

There was nothing different that day, at all. You woke up, made sure your knife was safe in your pocket and went out. You did that often, even though Hershel and the girls hated it, just disappeared into nearby neighborhoods or whatever buildings you could get into (you were getting good at picking locks). That day you were looking for anything you could get your hands on, anything.

Endlessly walking through a culdesac, darting in between each house, trying to find anything of value. Food, water, something to help with shelter-

Instead, you found something else.

In the dead grass of one of these classy houses' front yard was one soccer ball. It was dirty, but not too bad for the apocalypse (you had seen far worse, and were probably worse yourself actually). With a thought, you picked it up in your hands, squeezing it, and it wasn't flat either.

You weren't sure why (or maybe you knew exactly why), but that's all you brought back to the farm.

Every day, when your brain would get to be too much, you'd throw it around in your hands or dribble it around the yard. At first, Maggie had looked at you oddly, but now, it seemed to relax her (and Beth and Hershel). It was healthier, or they, at the very least, thought so.

You could pretty much immediately feel his eyes on you though, a little longingly. Maybe that's why, when you'd never kicked it too far in the entire time you had it, you kicked it too far.

It rolled up and hit him in the back of the leg.

He turned to look at you, blue eyes sparkling a little, and then down at the ball.

On instinct, you spoke, "Shit."

The kid looked directly at you then.

"Don't say that, kid," you mended, quickly -maybe even a little awkwardly.

"Carl," he spoke then.

You questioned, "What?"

"My name's Carl," he explained with quite the intention in his voice, "-not kid."

You laughed a little, maybe for the first time in a while. You could nearly hear Maggie's gaze snap to you at the sound. She was always the most worried.

"Well, Carl," you hummed, playfully, "-you gonna pass me my ball back?"

He pressed his lips together in a thin line like he was thinking -the hat on his head wobbled a little. It was endearing.

"Only if you let me play too," he negotiated, a big grin on his face and something in you softened (for the first time in a long time).

You tilted your head, hand on your hip, "You drive a hard bargain, sir."

Carl laughed, and you felt your smile grow bigger. Now, you felt more eyes on you, Rick and Lori. Or at least Rick.

Apparently, you were making quite the spectacle.

"Alright, Carl," you finally replied, "-you've got a deal."

That was when it all started when Carl changed your life. Every day that you could, you'd play a game of soccer with him, eventually it developed more into a chatty sort of game. He told you a lot, and you told him about the things you used to do as a kid.

It felt like you had a hand in helping him keep his innocence. It was nice.

You remember the eyes sort of fading off of you, well. Except for one.

Rick was always watching. You couldn't understand if it was a Carl thing, or a worrying thing, or what exactly. But, you did notice it.

And eventually, Carl convinced him to join too.

"C'mon, Dad," he pleaded, "-just one game."

"Carl, I gotta-"

"Please," he turned on the puppy dog eyes, you laughed a little at how he softened immediately. His eyes shot to yours a second at the noise, you didn't think much of it.

"How are we supposed to play wit' just three of us?" He relented, just a smidge, "-Don't we need equal teams?"

Carl frowned.

Your mouth was open before you could even stop it, "Oh, please, I'm good enough to take the two of you on my own."

Rick's lips quirked into a smile, you had the thought that he was handsome before shoving it far away, "Are ya?"

"I am," you reiterated, just doing what felt natural, "-you too scared to try, Grimes?"

Carl laughed at that, almost giddy, it made something in your chest warm. Mission accomplished.

And with a breath, Rick readied himself -blue eyes solid on yours, "'S see whatcha got, Y/N."

That wouldn't be the last time the three of you would play soccer together, but it would be the first time you really got to know Rick. It remained that way, where you just played with Rick and Carl on days they could or days you could.

You'd found a connection, and it was nice.

But then, you were kind of a friend to Carl. You truly cared about him, yeah, you weren't on the level of a parent for him. Not at all. That just wasn't your dynamic, you didn't want to step on any toes.

Lori's or Rick's.

Before you could stop it, the fateful day arrived.

You were strung between a delicate mix of concern and disbelief. The overthrow of the farm was big, and maybe so was finding the prison, but this... this day was much worse.

You'd known Lori a little bit better then, she talked to you a little (because you were always around Carl). And she seemed nice, really, just in a fucked up situation that she could hardly handle herself. Nevertheless, to handle it for Carl. Plus, the whole Shane situation... He was dead now, and that really couldn't be easy on her conscience. (You kind of gathered the situation a little bit, when you were getting to know Rick. He hadn't said anything, but you understood enough.)

And when she went into labor, you hated that you weren't hopeful. Hated it.

Carl went with Maggie to help deliver, and your heart twisted in your chest (so insanely worried) but you needed to help the others.

When Maggie came out of the room, with just Carl and the baby -blood all over her hands, your heart sunk to the bottom of your chest. Lower, if it could. There was this little spark of hope that Carl was okay, but then you looked at him, really looked at him.

Rick was crying, and belligerent, and he did the very same. Just looked at his son, "No, no, no-"

God, he... he didn't-

You don't think you could ever forget the next moment.

A sob was racking up your throat, heavy and so suffocating as you watched Rick just lose it and Carl stayed steady in place, only looking at the ground. And you felt like you were going to throw up.

Stomach twisting, as your eyes got cloudy.

You hadn't even noticed it, maybe because your mind was reeling, but then you heard the slap of footsteps and then a body running into yours. Carl, Carl-

Hands shaking, your hands wrapped around him, holding him tightly -swallowing back what you could. Your body moved on its own.

You crouched down, you couldn't stop the tears then, eyes skimming over his face. He was just looking at you, blue eyes filling with tears, and before you knew it you were cupping his face and wiping all of them away.

"Oh, baby, baby-" you were whispering, just for him to hear, "-I'm so sorry."

And then, you pulled him into another hug. That time you didn't let go, you would hold him until he did. Tears wetting your shoulder you only squeezed him tighter -kissing him on the forehead when it felt like your soul was crushed into pieces.

That was where it started.

You still went on trips, but you stayed around a lot more. Because, as you were caring for Carl, you also started caring for Rick. They went hand-in-hand. That was much more important than anything else.

It started with going on trips, and getting Carl books and candy when you could. It grew from there though, you started siphoning off some of your food to give him extra. When he would get hurt, even small little cuts, you were immediately there -patching him up. Making sure he was completely fine.

And Rick... well, he was more complicated. It was dragging him away from the farm when he seemed so tired he could barely stand, it was getting him out of bed when he didn't want to even breathe, it was making sure he was eating, and it was sometimes guiding him back to reality when he saw Lori.

He started getting better eventually, and you did convince him to go see the baby. He'd been avoiding her as much as physically possible; you told him he should.

"She's a piece of Lori that you'll always have, Rick. Her and Carl."

He'd look at you a certain type of way you couldn't label then, but eventually agreed. So, you thought it was going well. As he became more conscious again though, similar to his previous self (sometimes you thought maybe even better), he started noticing.

Rick saw all that Carl had gathered, the finger pointed back to you. He was eating candy, the finger pointed back to you. Carl fell and scraped his knees, you were near immediately by his side while Rick watched (the finger pointed back to you).

And when you ate, you'd done how you always did, almost on instinct. Siphoning off some of your food and piling it onto Carl's plate.

You're not sure when Rick caught that, at all, really. But you knew he did.

Because, eventually, he started sitting beside you, and as quick as you'd siphon off to Carl, he'd siphon some of his off to you.

The first time he'd done it, you froze -staring at your plate.

"Rick, you don't-"

He didn't even flinch, blue eyes taking you in -grateful, "I do."

"Well," you reasoned, "-don't do it every day. You need to eat too."

"Don't ya give some to Carl every day?"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts," he promptly finished, smiling at you in a new type of way, continuing his conversation with Daryl.

He'd done similar things, and eventually, your care spanned over to Judith. It wasn't as pressing as Carl, as Beth usually had her dealt with, but you'd been the one to feed her a few times (sat right beside Carl). And you won't lie you did do the baby voice a few times.

You didn't know it then, but Rick was looking at you in a new type of way.

And then, things happened in rapid succession.

The Governor did what he did, and Hershel died right in front of your eyes. You grabbed Maggie that day so tight, holding her as you both fell to the ground. It felt just like when your family... Your heart was thrown out of your chest and stomped into the dirt.

The fall of the prison didn't give you much time to grieve. You'd escaped with Carl and Rick, Judith had disappeared and you hoped with everything in your chest that she was still alive. God, you had never felt so low in your life.

Those days weren't good, and you had holed yourself up -lock and key. The only person who could through to you was Carl, despite how much Rick tried.

Breathing, shelter, protection, water, and food, but just for a bigger audience now.

The Claimers only proved you right. Seeing Carl like that, the threats of what they were going to do to him? You would've snapped if Rick hadn't.

"He's mine."

That day, you felt yourself come back again.

You held Carl tight against your chest, rubbing his hair over and over. Just before that, you scanned his whole body carefully -looking everywhere for anything at all. You would've killed them again if you could have if there was.

Holding him, you recenter yourself -calming the shake of your hands and the beating of your heart. You whispered, "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay-"

Carl had stopped you then, leveling his blue eyes on you, "I'm okay."

You smiled, maybe a little teary, reiterating, "You're okay."

And then, you saw Rick.

That was the thing about you, you were hardwired to care for them both at this point (for maybe more reasons than one, but you wouldn't admit that out loud). Making sure Carl was entirely fine, you kissed his forehead and spoke.

"Imma go help your Dad, okay?"

Hunting down a rag and a little bit of extra water, you slowly made your way over to him. He still had his eyes closed, and his hands were shaking; you simply sat right in front of him -wordlessly. You hardly even breathed, not wanting to startle him at all, but somehow still wanting to to bring him back.

You waited, patiently, for his eyes to open again, and when they did, you smiled a little.

"Hey, Grimes," you whispered, brandishing the rag, "-Thought you might need a little help, that okay?"

He looked at you in the same type of way he always did, one that you still couldn't label.

Before speaking lowly and a little slurred in his accent, "Yeah, 'at's okay."

You took a careful breath and leaned forward -gently scrubbing the blood off of his skin. Moving slowly, his eyes fluttered shut, and something in your chest tightened. He trusted you so much.

Your heart lept into your throat at the thought, and you took the moment to just look at Rick. How he differed from the first time you saw him, the time in his face. Longer hair that curled, the stubble that climbed up his cheeks, he was so different, but still somehow the same. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

That wasn't new, but it felt like it was.

With a breath, you continued wiping away what you could -pushing all around his face, smoothing over his lips, and dabbing a little on his facial hair. You moved slowly, not wanting to irritate his skin, but it made it take a little longer. As you did so, your fingertips brushed along his skin -just a little. It made your head spin.

You leaned back, satisfied, before grabbing his hands -left one first. You looked at them a moment, eyeing the callouses and the rough skin along his palm. His life was riddled on them, practically written there.

You cleared your throat, blinking back into focus.

Scrubbing away on the back and then flipping it to the front, you repeated the process.

He was looking at you now, blue eyes intently focused. You felt his steady gaze as you curled your hands around his, and for a moment it felt like you couldn't breathe.

Your heart beating heavily in your chest, you tried to stay focused.

When his skin was a sort of pink instead of blood red, you let go of his hands. Decidedly, you patted his cheek with a smile (the buzz of his skin against yours made your head spin).

"All better," you chimed, playfully.

He laughed a little then, and you felt something in you stir. Long ago dormant. Handsome, your mind spoke.

It was suddenly very hard to ignore it now, though. This close to his face, and he kind of looked like he-

With a breath, snapping your eyes from his and clearing your throat. "I'll um, go see if Carl needs me."

He just smiled at you in a certain type of way.

The two of you never talked about it again, but you did find him looking at you more.

And then Terminus.

To think about it now, made your skin crawl and bile rise up your throat. Beth died right in front of you, shot right through the head. She wasn't... There was no way-

You felt part of yourself crumble that you didn't think you could get back. God, she was so young-

You had new nightmares; they made your stomach twist and your sleep come to a relative halt. It wasn't just your family now (although it kind of was), it was Beth and Hershel. They had both been so sudden, your mind was still reeling. The gunshot bouncing through your ears, even now, as you lay on a blanket -Carl just beside you.

Your eyes snapped to him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Alive, it thrummed along your mind, alive.

You watched it for a few moments, letting your mind settle on that fact. Carl is safe, Carl is fine. Something in your shoulders relaxed, and your breaths weren't as heavy in your lungs.

Alive, alive, alive, alive.

Your stomach twisted because you didn't know if Judith was.

Instinctively, you shot up in your spot, breaths hollowed out in your chest. You blinked a few times, bringing yourself back to the ground beneath your fingers. Chancing a look at Carl again, you found him still fast asleep.

You exhaled a long breath, you weren't going to sleep tonight. Every time you closed your eyes, you'd either see... them or Carl could be hurt, there was no good reason to sleep.

Shaking your hands, you stood up. You stood there a moment, taking in the night -the buzz of the bugs, the shine of the stars, and the (luckily) very distant groans of the walkers.

"Ya okay?"

You startled in place, shit. Rick was on watch duty, you forgot. You tried to volunteer, but he'd refused ("'Aven't seen you sleep a second."). You weren't sure how to feel about how attentively he seemed to watch you.

You bit at your lips a second, swallowing, and wiping your hands down your legs. Your eyes were fogging up, and your throat was clogged. You felt a little like you couldn't breathe-

"Y/N?"

You blinked, deliriously, and your eyes were watery now, and it felt somehow like your lungs were filled. A bit like every breath got stuck in your throat.

"Hey, hey, look at me, sweetheart."

And then, Rick was suddenly in front of you. You hadn't even heard him move, the pounding of your heart was so loud-

With the gentlest of movements, he held your jaw, bringing your eyes to his.

"Hey," he spoke gently, concern flitting through his eyes, "-hey. 'At's goin' on?"

You swallowed, something clawing up your throat (but your heart was softer in your head now), your eyes falling to his jacket, "I just-"

"C'mon, talk to me," he hummed, bringing his eyes to yours again -something heavy in his eyes, worry.

"I just," and you felt your voice catch in your throat, you felt the tears slip out of your eyes, "-I just... I just miss them, and... and every time I close my eyes, Rick, it's just-"

His thumbs rubbed away your tears, gently moving back and forth, "I know, baby, I know. I miss 'em too."

Something in your mind noted that 'baby' was new, but you weren't focused on that. Your mind was running at 100 miles an hour, and all you could see clearly was Rick.

Your body acted on instinct, as you threw yourself into him -digging your face into his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his neck. He seemed slow to react for a moment, but carefully, his hands came to wrap around your waist.

You took a deep breath in, just smelling the woodsy smell he always seemed to carry around with him. It made the tension in your body melt, and he seemed to notice it -tightening his grip slightly.

"I gotcha," he whispered, maybe like he was a little scared to break the moment, "-'s gonna be okay, I promise."

You fell asleep on his shoulder later that night, one of his arms tight along your side. And if he shushed everyone that morning afterward (wanting to keep you close as long as possible maybe), kissing your temple whenever you stirred, looking at you a little like you were the most precious thing in the world, you'd never know.

It was easier after that. Any time you felt it all coming back up, Rick would be right there, hand smoothed along your shoulder, pushing you into his side, or brushing his hand along yours while you walked. You weren't sure if you could get used to it all.

And then, a good day came.

Judith, baby Judith was back.

You felt the sob wrack up through your throat, as you smoothed your hand over her little hair. Your breaths were shaky but you were smiling, and so were both Rick and Carl. All of you were huddled together, crying, and for a split second, it felt like maybe you were a little family.

You bit back the thought but peeked up at Rick just to find him looking right back at you. Something in your chest fluttered.

Finding Alexandria was a little like a fever dream, all of you weren't trusting it, especially since Terminus. But eventually, something in you relaxed as you watched Carl know people his age and find friends. You weren't as scared anymore.

That being said, you had your own home, but it stayed empty. You were constantly in the Grimes' house. Whether for Carl, Judith, or Rick, you were always there. And Rick didn't seem to mind at all. (Sometimes you thought he preferred it.)

That day was a normal one, you'd crossed on over to the Grimes' -bouncing a little on your toes. It was your day to watch Judith, well, it always kind of ended up being a team effort at the end. But, if Rick had something to do, you'd be on baby duty.

Walking in like you always did, the house was eerily quiet.

You pursed your lips, "Rick?"

He called out, from the kitchen you'd guessed (you could hear the sizzle of a pan), "In 'ere!"

You moved with a practiced grace, smoothing around the piles of toys like you lived here (and in essence, you kind of did). Just as you entered the doorway, you started again.

"Hey, where are our kids?"

And then you stepped into the room and got a look at Rick. Clean-shaven Rick. Sharp jawline, blue eyes, Rick.

Your mind went completely blank.

He turned to you then, sort of smiling, "Our?"

Blinking, you cleared your throat, "Sorry, what?"

"You said," he was stepping closer, something shining in his eyes, "-our kids."

It was hard to focus, but you'd gathered what he said.

"Shit, sorry," you started, scrambling a little, "-I didn't mean to-"

"No, no," he dismissed, eyes intently focused on yours (somehow you think his facial hair distracted from his eyes, were they always that blue?), "-you're right, darlin'. 'Ey are as much yours as 'ey are mine."

You took a deep breath in, deflecting a little and motioning to his face, "When did you...?"

"This mornin'," he answered, turning back to the pan (breakfast, you guessed), "-why? It look 'at bad?"

Your head was spinning, but you answered anyway.

"What, no," you answered, instinctively, "-it looks good. Great, actually."

He smiled at you in a sort of way you couldn't read, wearing his pajamas and hair slightly tussled -your mouth went dry.

"Yeah?"

You willed everything in yourself to say something witty, playful, like normal. But he was still looking at you, focused, and all your brain could think was blue-

"Yeah," you answered quietly.

He hummed a moment, hand coming up to rub at his jaw. Calloused fingers against the most certainly smooth skin, you briefly thought about touching it yourself.

You cleared your throat, "Sorry, so where are th- our kids?"

Rick's eyes smoothed over your face a second before he smiled, shaking his head, and dropped his eyes back to the pan, "Judith's still sleepin', and Carl is at a friend's."

"Which friend?" you asked, instinctively.

"He's fine, baby," he laughed a little like he was testing the word, "-ere's no need to be worried."

Baby rattled around your head for a few seconds, especially coming from that face. The last time he called you that, you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. And come to think of it, with how you were reacting to a shaved face, maybe he was onto something.

"Grimes," you leveled, but there wasn't any bite.

"I'm serious," he added, looking at you (blue, blue) -trying to convey it to you.

You pursed your lips, deadpanning, "You forgot, didn't you?"

"Maybe," he smiled at you, almost fondly, and your knees nearly buckled.

God, you needed to get a hold of yourself.

"I'll figure it out later," you remarked -passively, "-What are you making?"

He seemed to pause, eyes skimming along you like he was suddenly taking you in, before stepping to the side, "Come n' see for yourself."

You had the spare thought that he was doing it on purpose, before swatting it away and gathering by his side. Mindlessly, your brain noted his elbow bumping into you and the swarm of body heat that radiated off of him. You blinked it away.

He had a few things going, typical breakfast stuff, but you did decisively notice what looked to be a single portion of your favorite.

"Is that-"

"For ya? Yeah," he answered, unflinchingly, "-'Figured I could be sweet today."

You quipped back, looking up at him, "What a change of pace, Grimes."

He laughed at that, your eyes smoothed over his smile before dropping back to the food. Your breaths felt a little hollow in your chest for an entirely different reason.

You stood there and helped portion of the food, focused on placing plates out for him to then fill. You could feel his eyes steady on you as you did so, just until he started portioning. You promptly grabbed one of the other foods and portioned it yourself.

As soon as you finished, Rick spoke up.

"Did ya mean it?"

You looked at him, curiously, "What?"

"Our kids," he answered, something flickering behind his eyes, "-Do ya really think of 'em as your own?"

"As long as I'm not... overstepping," you clarified, dropping the pan into the sink, "-yeah, of course, I do."

He smiled a little, the flicker stronger now, "Really?"

"Well, yeah," you laughed, a little uncertain now, "-Should I not?"

"No," he echoed out, something heavy in his tone, "-you should. 'Ey're yours."

"Then, why-"

""S just nice to 'ear," he explained, pulling another one of the pans into the sink -sliding in just beside you.

"Why?" you questioned.

Rick looked at you, eyes flickering along your face, seeming to decide on something, "Can I show ya somethin'?"

You quirked a brow, playfully, "What is this something?"

"A gift," he answered, naturally.

You blinked, a little deliriously, "For me?"

"Yeah," he hummed, taking your wrist in his hand (your brain turned to mush) and guiding you through the house, "-'Course it is."

"Where did you get a gift?"

"On a run," he answered, easily, pulling you into his bedroom before letting go. He wandered over to his closet.

"Why-" you laughed a little, "-Why were you thinking of me on a run?"

Rick didn't hesitate a second, hands skimming over some shelves, "I'm always thinkin' of ya."

Your lips snapped shut, as your eyes just followed him around the room.

Since he was so preoccupied, you let your eyes roam over his jaw, the angular lines of his nose, the curve of his Adam's apple, the slight push of his lips, and the curl that seemed to trail down his forehead. You almost adjusted it yourself, but you fought back the urge.

"'Ere it is," he sighed, relieved, before seeming to gather something up in his arms.

You tried to peek over his shoulder, but he decidedly kept them too raised.

"Ya ready?" He chimed, excitingly.

You quipped, smiling, "I was born ready, Grimes."

Rick laughed at that, and you bit back the grin that threatened to slip across your face. There was something so domestic about all of this, it made your breath rattle in your chest, and your heart skip a beat.

And then, he turned around.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He held in his hands, a brand-new soccer ball, still in the package. Your brain buzzed for a moment, it was so sentimental. It made your head spin, making you a little breathless. A grin grew wide along your face, lips curling up.

"No way," you muttered, leaning forward and skimming your fingers across it, "-that is so sappy, Grimes."

He laughed a little, and your eyes flicked to him where a pink dusted up to the top of his ears. Your smile shone even brighter.

"Figured you could let me and Carl try to gain a little on your record," he smiled.

"What was it again?" you grinned, taking the ball into your hands, "-Four to zero?"

"Six," he corrected, instinctively (like he remembered), "-Six to zero."

Wordlessly, you gently took the box into your hands, his eyes steady on you.

"How long did it take to find this?"

"I was lookin' for the past few runs," he answered -vaguely.

"Looking?" You questioned, "-You plan this out, Rick?"

He hummed, smiling, "Maybe."

You quirked a brow, not quite looking at him, "What's the occasion, Grimes?"

He fell quiet then, and you promptly dropped your smile and looked at him. Eyes skimming along his face, he didn't seem upset. He seemed entirely the opposite, actually.

Blue eyes looking at you like they always did.

"Rick?" You asked, concern smoothing through you, "-Everything alright?"

He smiled a little, shaking his head a little, "God, you're... you're... you're unbelievable."

"Um," you flustered a little, holding the ball tighter to you, "-is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Good," he answered, with probably the biggest grin, "-great, it's a great thin'."

"Yeah? Well," you muttered out, a little frazzled, "-um, thank you."

He laughed a little bit, then but it slowly dissipated into the air. Leaving you and him, and his crazy blue eyes (seriously, how have you never noticed that?).

Rick spoke breathlessly then, rushed as if it was just waiting to come out (like it was building, building, building, until it burst), "I love you."

You dropped the ball (and box) right onto your feet. It stung a little.

"Shit," you hissed, before scrambling, "-Wait, that wasn't to you. I... I just I hit my toes with the box, and it hurt-"

He smiled at you even brighter then, eyes dropping to your feet, "Ya alright?"

"Yeah, what," you cleared your throat, "-I'm fine. I'm just... a little in shock, I guess."

"Yeah?" He asked, something lilting in his tone and you almost felt like he got closer to you.

"Yeah," you breathed out, "-I just... I never could've imagined a man like you, um, loving me."

He was definitely getting closer, blue eyes flickering between the two of yours, "A man like me?"

"It's a good thing," you explained, "-You're just caring, and I love your kids, and-"

His face was breath away from yours. Your lips moved before you could think about it.

"-handsome," you finished a little breathlessly.

He grinned then, crinkling at his eyes, and something there, deep in the blue. You couldn't tell if it was mischievous or loving or maybe even teasing-

"Am I?"

Something in you snapped.

You practically jumped forward, arms wrapping around his neck, and lips pressing to his. Rick laughed into it (which made you laugh a little too), but his hands sank to your waist entirely on instinct.

It was a little desperate, as Rick tilted his head just the right way and seemed to pour everything into his lips. Which were very much already good on their own. It made you dizzy, and you nearly stumbled in your steps, but he held you a little tighter and kept you in place.

Before, pulling you forward even more.

It sent a shock through your spine and made the breath slink out of your lungs.

Speaking of breath-

You pulled back, taking a deep breath in -mind a little hazy, "Jesus Christ."

Rick laughed, but still pressed forward, leaving little kisses on your lips -surface level. Again, and again, and again, and again-

Laughing, you moved your hands to his face, pulling him back, "Rick, you need to breathe, yeah?"

"Not as bad as I need ya," he retorted, before pressing kisses along your jaw.

It made your head spin, and maybe you were a little dizzy but you didn't think it was from the lack of oxygen.

"Rick," you urged, laughing.

He mindlessly moved down to your neck, a little like he couldn't get enough. It zapped through your spine again.

"Rick," you repeated, maybe with a little less laughter, "-c'mon, I have to tell you something."

He groaned, before pulling back to face you, blue eyes focused. Rick looked at your smile, and bit down his own.

You took a breath in, and cradled his face again (his skin was soft), "I love you too."

He grinned big and wide then, something shining in his eyes, "Ya don't know how long I 'ave waited to 'ear 'at."

"How long?"

He answered, with ease, "Since I saw ya givin' Carl your food."

"Rick," you almost soothed, "-that was forever ago. Why didn't you say something?"

"Was never the right time," he hummed, kissing you at the hinge of your jaw, "-I was goin' through somethin' and then ya were."

You hummed a moment, finally pushing back the loose curl.

"And I just-" he exhaled a breath, "-I wanted to make sure ya felt the same. Didn't want the kids to lose ya."

"Even if I didn't love you, Grimes," you soothed, trailing your hands along his jaw, "-They would've never lost me."

He just looked at you then, a little like he couldn't believe you were in front of him. Couldn't believe you were real.

"They're our kids," you offered with a teasing smile, "-are they not?"

"Yeah, 'ey are."

And without another breath, he kissed you so hard that it felt like your breath was knocked out of your lungs. But there was no way in hell that you were stopping.

You'd waited long enough for this.

He grinned against your lips, mindlessly kicking the soccer ball out of the way to get closer to you. Whispers of 'Ours' between every press of lips like he couldn't believe it. Or maybe like it was all he'd ever wanted.

And apparently, he had waited just as long.

[shanieveh]

HAUNTED BY THE GHOST OF YOU *ੈ✩‧₊˚

no matter what he does, he can never deny that you were the greatest love of his life

KAMISATO AYATO who scarcely shows real emotion, who puts on a facade of masks and fake gestures was now charming his new bride to gain her favour. He can describe his new bride with just one word. Perfect. Unlike you, who messily eats the sweets that he stole from the tea house, or laughs crazily when you tease him so. The life he now lives was one from paintings and models, standards and perfection. But it was all fake, a charade, and only in the nights in the place where you said your goodbye, can the cowardly man finally put off his mask and reveal what he truly was. A lie.

SCARAMOUCHE who did everything to have a heart, even if it meant to discard you, to never see you ever again. And now he did, but the feeling of emptiness had never been so obvious. He was now a God, just what he wanted, but he no longer can be with you even if that's what he needed. To be with a person that actually cared, that never abandoned him. Not when he was the one who left, and he always denied that he was the reason why you're gone. That you were the reason his heart now restored, had never felt this empty. But deep down he knew, that a life with you was better than this.

KAEYA who spends all his time in the tavern, doing everything to erase the pain, to escape reality. His once carefree and seemingly sly like nature was now reduced to tatters who hoped that everything that has happened was only a dream. You didn't leave him, but you did. Who wouldn't leave a loser, a coward and inferior to his brother? He couldn't even face his past nor future, he couldn't even be the man you deserve. It was so clear as to why you left, but you never knew how he would risk all for you. His identity, his titles, his very life. You didn't know how he will leave it all behind, just to see your smile again. Just for you to break his heart again.

DILUC was someone that everybody knew, and everybody was scared of.. But when you gave him that look of fear, that look of judgment, he can't help but be jealous of the ordinary townsfolk that just run up to you and be with you. But sometimes he believed it was right to scare you off. To make you think that he didn't love you. At the very least you won't be tied into the danger that comes with being with him. Even if every corner of his mansion was filled with your memories, he will survive this pain. The pain of seeing you so happy with another man, and the consequence of knowing that the both of you can never be together.

KAVEH who made you his muse. His very existence was dedicated for you. His dreams, his passions, his love it was all for you. And now he orders two ice creams, remembering how you weren't there to eat the other once. Making a portrait for the wedding you both will never have. Maybe just like last time, it was all his fault. Maybe his fate lies in always being alone, in being a failure to everyone he loves. To always say the wrong words, and doing the wrong things. And he will act like nothing happened, that nothing bad was there. Because he doesn't deserve to grieve when it is his own undoing.

ALHAITHAM believed that dreams are never real, that they are just a gist of imagination by childish youngsters. But being with you finally made him realize the beauty of it all, and losing you made him see how it can make him crazy. Seeing you there, but never touch nor feel. Loving you from afar, but never up close or near. He stands as a lone man, that had his life all planned out, who knows what he wants to do and don't. But he never planned to love you, but he did, he never planned to lose you. Easy they come, easy they go a wise man said but never added how hard it is to let go.

[freestyle-crocodile-trashpile]

What...?

Summary: You're a hashire to truly fear

Type:Scenario: M!Reader

Version:Demon slayer

~

The hashiras are scary, yes. That is a fact that anyone could see. But, you. The Kyofu hashira, the truly scary hishira. From your aura all the way to your sword. Your face always has an almost soulless look. Your sword is sharper, more jagged and painful. You're well known. Demons who survived your attacks warn others. That being said, the demon corps isn't the only thing you're well known through. Demons, Muzan himself knows of you. Demons dread the day they met you. The Kakushi are terrified of you, and so do the lower ranks of demon slayers. Even some hashiras are scared of you, or at least know better to get on your bad side. Tanjiro didn't understand why you had a horrifying aura, yet you smelled calm yet angry. So why? Why are people so scared of you? The real question is, does he want to know? No. It's brutal, and you earned the name Kyofu Hashira for a reason. What...what did you do? And Zenitsu, he's already a scary cat, but when he met you. He practically jumped out of his skin. He would have peed himself if you stayed any longer than you did. And Inosuke, he learned the hard way. He tried to fight you, he annoyed you, and yelled at you, and just wouldn't stop. So the moment his head came in contact with your back, it was practically over with for him. Let's just say he didn't say a word when he got back to the butterfly mansion. He worried Tanjiro because he could smell the dread off of Inosuke, and Zenitsu was terrified. He could hear his heart racing. You're not one to be messed with, whether it's human, demon, or even your own boss. You know your ground, and know others' weaknesses, you truly are someone to fear.

~

[A/n:Don't mind me, I'm just gonna slide this over. I hope you enjoyed]

[kishibe-kisser]

You fall asleep on their shoulder (Suguru Geto, Nanami Kento, Aoi Todo)

They have a major crush on you and you fall asleep on their shoulder.

Suguru Geto: He wasn't the most fond of you, it wasn't a secret to anyone around. At least that was what he lead everyone to believe, even you. No matter how kind you were, it only seemed to anger him more and you just couldn't figure out why. You felt like he truly hated you, so much so even sitting next to him made you uncomfortable.

Though these were the car seats that were left and you found yourself smiling at Geto none the less. You couldn't be mean to him even if you tried, even though he rolled his eyes and looked the other way. His broad shoulders pressed into yours, not giving you a lot of space in your seat. It didn't bother you but you couldn't imagine how much he was disturbed at simply having to touch you.

You couldn't have been more wrong, his heart was pounding in his chest and he was trying his hardest not to look at you. He was always wondering how you could be so nice to him when he felt he didn't deserve it. Those thoughts ran through his mind as he tried to look at anything except for you. He had to try his best to not flinch when he felt your head drop on his shoulder.

Geto turned his head slowly, looking at you sound asleep on his shoulder. His heart rate increased once more, taking in just how comfortable you looked using him as a pillow. It made him think about allowing this to happen more often, maybe allowing himself to soften around you. He may have not deserved you being so kind to him, but you most definitely deserved the kindness in return.

"You deserve more than I can give you."

Nanami Kento: Kento would have been lying to himself if he said he didn't feel anything for you. Watching someone work as a sorcerer wasn't something he had felt as being attractive, not until he met you. Your fighting style was graceful, like a dance almost and when you were made to be his partner, he was relieved to see you knew what you were doing.

He would never act on his feelings, though. No, it was unprofessional to do so. So he would admire from afar and instead of doing something romantic like would prefer too, he'd step up and do his job if he saw you needed saving. It was the most he could do for you and he would do the most for you.

The job had come to a close and you were both waiting to debrief, exhaustion and pain slowly setting into your bodies from the grueling fight that you had barely survived. You were exhausted to say the least, goosebumps coating your skin leaving you to shiver. It seemed like second nature, to lean into Nanami. His body heat and large stature being comforting as you dozed off.

He was aware of what was happening, the light weight of your head dropping on his shoulder and he knew he should have woken you up. He just couldn't bring himself to do so, leaning down a little further so you could get more comfortable. Normally he wouldn't do this, give in to his emotions like this. But he was tired too, physically, emotionally and he needed the comfort too.

"Just for a few minutes, just a few. Only because today was hard."

Aoi Todo: Todo was anything but quiet. The man was outspoken, said the first thing on his mind always. It was the way he was with everyone, everyone except you. He was bubbly and open with everyone but closed off the second you came around. Todo just didn't know how to act around you, to him you were even prettier than Takada.

For a change, you and Todo were sent to fight a curse and while you knew he was good at the job, you were worried. You hadn't worked together much and well, he didn't communicate with you like he did with the rest of the team. It couldn't be so bad right? If he just hardly talked to you at all, it wouldn't slip that he liked you, right? Well while that was technically true, the lack of communucation nearly got you killed.

He wracked with regret, looking at you sitting silently next to him. You might have been fine in the end, hardly a scratch on you but Todo was tenser than ever. Simply watching you as you started to drift off in the car next to him. You rested your head on his shoulder and mumbled something before fully falling asleep. "It's not your fault Todo."

His heart pounded in his chest, wrapping a comforting arm around you and pulling you further into him. You still trusted him enough to sleep on him and you didn't blame him for what happened. Todo knew he was being stupid about this, letting this effect the way he worked. When you woke up, he'd talk to you, but for now he'd let you rest as an apology.

"I should have been protecting you out there, not risking your life with my stupidity."

A/N: my first jjk reaction. I hope you all enjoy it! Remember my JJK requests are open, check my pinned post for the rules.

Send me a request!

[kenjakusbraincum]

Not a request but i just wanted to share the daydreams Your sukuna fics have inspired like a clueless sourcer tries to take his pet away and sukuna let's it happen as a test of loyalty. Like he knows that this servant is suspicious. And of course being very loyal as soon as she realizes and tells sukuna that they tried to get her to leave, clinging to him, begging him to let her stay beside him 😭

He wouldn't intentionally want to test you, but now that he saw the opportunity... Where's the harm? You'll never know. Besides, he knows you wouldn't leave. He does, but hearing it from your mouth is not the same as actually seeing you make a decision to stay when faced with a choice to leave.

That servant is bold to think he doesn't know. Even bolder to believe running away is possible at all, much less with you. Okay, if it was one servant, maybe he wouldn't notice. But you? He sleeps with you almost every night. He wakes, almost in panic, when you do as little as shuffle or make a noise in your sleep. He would know you're gone.

But you are not as aware of this as he is. It starts with the little things. The servant talks to you as she washes your hair. Usually, she complains about her work, and you let her. You miss talking to people other than Sukuna, even if they're bothersome. Until one day, when she asks you what he's like when he's with you. You smirk, not immediately thinking why. Sukuna hasn't exactly trained you to be a critical thinker, on the contrary, he's dumbed you down quite a bit, to his liking. But you do still think, at least a little bit. Would he like you sharing details of your intimacy with him to others? No, hell no! You think he might just kill you. You think this is the worst way you could possibly betray him. After all, he trusts you with that vulnerability. So you tell her he treats you like he treats all of his servants. Obviously, with a little bonus of allowing you in his bed.

On another occasion, she mentions running away. Now you're conflicted. You're confident enough in your relationship with Sukuna that you know he wouldn't kill you for failing to refer that information to him. He knows of your good nature, so fundamentally different from his. He usually doesn't hold it against you. So you don't tell him, but it weighs heavy on your conscience every time you're with him. It's not the obligation, it's just that hiding things from him feels wrong. You're so used to telling him everything, all the time. Now you feel complicit. And he notices.

The situation reaches it's peak when you have a particularly bad day with Sukuna. It truly takes so little for him to hurt you, a single word is enough, much less a string of words as demeaning as the ones he spat at you that day. You cry in your room, and the servant, that vile servant! She really tried to convince you to leave now, when you're as emotionally vulnerable as you can be! She says so many things that don't ring true. That you don't deserve this, that you can be free and worry about your own needs and not someone elses...

She doesn't understand that Sukuna doesn't treat you badly. On the contrary, most of the time he treats you like royalty. And on the other hand, she doesn't understand that you wouldn't know what to do if you leave Sukuna. You're useless. Any life and survival skills you've had are long gone now that you've spent years being pampered by him every day. You're good for basically nothing, other than indulging in your little hobbies and serving, pleasuring, loving him. You would have to work, but most importantly you would be alone. Who could ever provide you with such a carefree life in the outside world? No, you don't want anyone to provide you with that life! You have it here. You don't want to leave. And every second you spend there listening to her says otherwise.

You tell her no, and when she starts insisting, you start to get up. And then she keeps going, she's following you, and you're begging her to stop because if she doesn't you'll have to tell him. And she doesn't, and now you're in tears and running from her, and barging into Sukuna's throne room unexcused. He is busy with his usual daily dose of slaughter, and he's doused in blood. But it doesn't matter because its him, and you feel safer in his arms than you would feel tucked away at the end of the world. Even if his embrace smears you in blood, and engulfs you in the scent of death.

Sukuna is usually weary of being interrupted, but he notices you're panicked, crying, and babbling nonsense. On and on about how you don't want to leave him, how you beg him to forgive you, for not having told him earlier, for not having seen it earlier. You never want to leave him, because you're the happiest when you're by his side. And then he gets it. He gets what he wanted. He picks you up so you can bury your face in his shoulder and calm down. He's not mad. ''Who upset you, my little pet?'', he asks in his softest voice, reserved only for you. ''And how shall we punish them?''

[quirkyfries]

Ruin ramble because writing his pov is interesting

Do you ever notice that Ruin gets really self depreciative about himself sometimes? (Maybe not quite self depreciative, but highlighting things about himself.) Implying vulnerability in a way that can almost come off as a joke if it weren't for his tone of voice. He says he hasn't been safe in a long time, it would be nice to sleep for once, wouldn't his death be hilarious? It comes off as a cry for help, but he states it as fact, he's convinced it won't change.

He's very stubborn about what he's done. He had nothing left to lose. No, there was absolutely no other way he could've gone about destroying the creator, he'd spent years considering his options. Yes, Solar was collateral, unfortunate. Those lives were a necessary sacrifice. He had to do it. There was no other way.

To him, he chose the lesser amount of people in the trolley problem. That was the morally correct thing to do in the circumstances he was given, lives would have been taken either way. He had to do it. (He could've walked away from the lever that switched the rails, but that would be the self serving option, wouldn't it? To move on?)

The most interesting part about it to me is, why does Ruin keep on going? All he's known is pain and suffering in some shape or another, he had nothing to live for after his goal was completed. All he'd ever known was bad, bad, bad, vindictive release, a little bit more bad, and then nothing. He was ready to die, he didn't know where to go.

Then came along this new dimension, one he'd apparently accidentally created through his actions. For someone who has nothing to gain or lose, wouldn't this be a nice chance of pace? To look forward to something nice that was more or less your responsibility in a weird way, to cultivate something good for once after a life of bad? To be able to take the place of your abuser, break that cycle? This new dimension is his reason to keep going, he will see this one good thing through if he can help it. Even if he isn't particularly liked by his migrated peers.

But he still isn't secure. There are enemies he'd made, the insurmountable weight of lives on his shoulders, and a new uncertain freedom of identity. (Granted, he still has to lie to some people to get by. I more mean his own Creator, the Virus act, and Nexus + Dark Sun here. Ruin having to strike deals and bargain for his life and act against his own morals to survive. But those are gone. When had Ruin last acted like himself, truly? He had barely been able to define himself as an Eclipse before everything bad happened.)

Does Ruin hate himself? I don't know, he's very adamant about hating what he had to do, but would do it again. He believes he was right, he's even defensive about it to several people, but there is still something that's bothering him. Does he hate himself for pressing the red button? Dunno. Maybe subconsciously. He's clearly meant to parallel Puppet with how he is now, they're the same words in different font. Ruin pulled the lever to kill the smaller amount of strangers to save the greater amount of strangers. Puppet was inside the train that killed everyone she knew. She wants to repent, Ruin hasn't shown much interest in it. Does a selfless act require repentance?

I like to think he has a bit of a dissociation issue, he compartmentalizes things if you squint, a possible coping mechanism of something called cognitive dissonance (a disturbance that happens when your actions do not align with your morals/values.) He was right for what he did. What he did was bad. What he did was necessary. He deserves his fate. He doesn't like pain. There's some contradicting statements there, he'd have to separate some things into neat little boxes in order for it to make sense in his head, so he didn't torture himself thinking about what that said about himself and his values. What he did was right and necessary. What he did was bad and he deserves his fate. He doesn't like pain. Still contradictory a bit, but a little more organized. If he focused on the positive box more than the negative box, he can feel better about himself, but he's painfully aware of the negative box' existence. Maybe he avoids looking at the negative box at all times and ignores the contents, but what's inside is so over accumulated that it can't help but be constantly present and occasionally overflow in those matter-of-fact cries for help. A lotta PTSD can fit in this bad boy (pats ruin on the head)

Does that make sense? I don't know, I feel like a therapist trying to write from his point of view. What is wrong with this little british guy.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Back to me 🖤

Leon S. Kennedy x reader

A/N: a lil Leon lovey dovey piece. I cannot express how much I love him and I would give him the world if I could. Enjoy!

~Fi 🐝

Warnings: LEON APPRECIATION. so much fluff, kinda angsty, but nothing bad :), back kisses <3 much needed comfort for our favorite agent.

Word count: 1.5k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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Clouds. That's what your bed felt like. Your sheets felt like laying on the softest and most delicate rose petals. A warm and fuzzy feeling bloomed in your chest, slowly and gently crawling all the way to your cheeks. Your lips were stretched into an adoring smile. It was all because of him, no doubt.

Leon had returned from a mission, a week ago by now, and you just couldn't stop looking at him. Admiring the view, if you will. Hunnigan and yourself had planned your asses off trying to get him a month off of work. He needed a break, in all honesty. Not that he would ever admit that, let alone ask for one. Apparently, he didn't notice how the bags under his eyes would darken, how his movements became sluggish and clumsy or how he would shoot awake from nightmares every other night.

Maybe he did notice, and he just ignored it. Hoped to wish it all away, think it out if existence if he tried hard enough. He didn't know his limits. You'd think someone in his field would, but he didn't. But you noticed. And it broke your heart every single time to see him become a shell of the man you loved. All because he never took a break, in fear of seeming weak. Utter nonsense.

So, you'd arranged for him to not be bothered by work. Not a text, a call, whatever it was, it was put on hold for now. He needed some time for himself. For you. It wasn't healthy, being in a constant state of fear, stress and adrenaline. A constant state of survival. He didn't need to do that when he was with you.

You wished he would quit that damn job of his, sometimes. It was eating at him, breaking from the inside out, albeit so slowly he had yet to notice. You would have that talk with him another time, for now this was all you could do. And you would do it gladly. Pamper and spoil him to his hearts content. Although it was more to yours, truly.

You watched him move from the bathroom, just having gotten ready for bed, to the dresser in your shared bedroom. His pajama pants sat so nicely on his hips, hugging his thighs and ass perfectly. Your gaze wandered farther upwards, to his exposed back.

He was rummaging through a drawer for one of his shirts, you'd stolen a plethora of them but always made sure to return them to their rightful place. You watched as the muscles in his back flexed and tensed in various ways as he dug around for the piece of clothing.

"What're you looking for, Baby?" You called softly from your place on the bed. His rummaging didn't stop as he leaned further into the drawer. "My Linkin Park shirt.." he mumbled. You could practically hear the way his brows were scrunched together and the slight frown that sat on his lips. "Bottom left corner."

He stopped, but then followed your instructions and, sure enough, with one reach of his hand he had found what he was looking for. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He felt the fabric, it was soft. It didn't feel like it was freshly washed, though.

You'd probably worn it a couple of times before he came home. He liked it when you did that. The shirts wouldn't be as stiff and scratchy, they'd be soft on his skin, accompanied by your smell. Your perfume, your shampoo, your body wash, he loved it. It comforted him, made him feel safe.

Leon sat down on the edge of the bed, shirt in hand. Your eyes fell to his bare back again. He was so incredibly beautiful, what a shame he didn't know it. A butterfly can't see its own pretty wings, after all. You crawled over the bed, settling behind him on your knees. His head was slightly leaned forward, he was probably checking his phone. Another habit you'd yet to somehow get out of him. Checking his phone for texts or calls from work in precisely timed intervals didn't really help your cause of trying to get him out if his work life for once.

You watched the relaxed muscles in his back, the soft and perfect skin being decorated by a multitude of moles and faint scars. Reaching out, you gently ran your fingertips across them. They told so many stories, his stories, and you loved each and every one. Leon sighed as he lightly leaned into your touch. Your hands moved along his shoulder blades, over the back of his neck, down his shoulders and across his upper arms before they settled on his waist. "I love your back.." you muttered, starting to place gentle kisses everywhere you could. He stiffened for just a second before fully melting into you.

The grip on his phone loosened, slipping out of his hand and clattering to the floor. "I love every scar, every mole, all of it." You continued between kisses. You trailed your declarations of love upwards, all the way to his neck before peppering kisses over the skin there, too. Leon sighed and let his head tip to one side, giving you even more of a canvas to paint your work of art on.

Your hands now snaked from his waist to his stomach, wrapping your arms around him. "I love you." You whispered with a final kiss, pressing your face between his shoulder blades. "I love you too, sweetheart." He replied softly, caressing your hands that were splayed on his stomach. "You gonna let me put my shirt on?" He asked, an amused tone to his voice. You let out a displeased grumble, tightening your grip on him. "Fine.." you mumbled, quickly placing some more kisses on his back before pulling away.

The chaste touches of your soft lips made a shiver run down his spine. It felt so good to finally be back with you. And three more weeks of this? God, how did he even get a whole month off? He was excited to spend so much time with you. The first week, you had spent in bed all day, ordering take out when needed and cuddling. The second week, you'd meet some family and friends, maybe go on a cute date or two. The third week would be spent in a luxurious hotel by the beach.

He couldn't wait for that. It's been God knows how long since he'd been to the beach. The last week, you'd spend in bed all day, again, enjoying each other's company and warm embrace. He really could get used to this.

Leon pulled the shirt over his head, to your dismay, covering his sculpted body. You scooched back on the bed, laying down so he could rest on your chest. "C'mon, Lee." You smiled at him softly, motioning for him to join you in the paradise that was your soft pillows.

He didn't decline, of course, and promptly crawled over to you before laying on top of you. It was the perfect position for the two of you. Leon could use your plush boobs as his personal pillow, breathing in your scent while also holding you.

You, on the other hand, had the comfort of his weight on top of you and you had free access to his back, caressing and gently tracing patters on it as you pleased. He let out a content sigh once he'd settled in, perfectly fitting on top of you.

You pressed a kiss to his blonde locks, gently running your fingers through them before they found their way back to his back. "What was that supposed to be?" He muttered against your chest. A soft chuckle left you. "Your good night kiss, love."

"That won't do." Leon grunted, getting up on his elbows to place a loving kiss on your lips. You sighed into the kiss, gently grabbing his face. He pulled away and smiled at you drowsily, adding, "That's better." before moving back to his former place on your chest. "Okay, good." You replied softly, smiling down at him as you, too, could feel sleep getting to you.

"I love you so much, Baby." He slurred, nuzzling closer to your warm body. "I love you so much too, Honey." You sighed, relaxing against him. Would you wake up like this? Probably not. The pair of you were quite the turners at night. You'd probably change from this position to one on your sides, your arms wrapped around eachother while your face was pressed into his back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

Leon would probably pull you into his arms at one point in the night. You would wake up with your arms wrapped around one another, facing eachother, lips almost touching as his warm breath fanned over your face. He would pull you from your slumber with hungry kisses, pressing his lips wherever they could reach. Every bit of exposed skin would get the gentle touch of his lips as he trailed them down your body.

Looks like it would be a breakfast in bed kind of day.

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I just want to love him :(

[absolutehomosexuals]

Astarion's ascension is extremely popular, despite it clearly being the designed bad ending for him.

So many fans of this version want to argue that it's a "valid" path to choose if you enjoy his character, or that it's equally good as his Spawn ending. The "it's what he wants" argument is the hegemonic justification in question.

But is wanting something better than needing another thing? Yes, he talks about ascension ever since he finds out about the ritual.

Yes, when push comes to shove he's still committed to ascend. But is this enough? Should we support his choice, even when everything but his words tell us not to? Should we trust the judgment of a deeply traumatized man about the best way for him to feel better?

This may sound harsh, but the answer is no.

Because in many circumstances, we see Astarion behaving unhealthily as a result of his trauma: he's hypersexual at the beginning of the game, using sex as a survival mechanism. He's yet to learn what his boundaries should be, what it means not to be an object, to see himself as a person that deserves respect and has so much more to offer than just his body. His trauma is still fresh. And he's so scared of losing his freedom, being trapped under slavery again.

We can't blame him being so desperate to feel safe that he will trade everything he is for it.

Because that's what the ritual means, Cazador says so himself: despite gaining the ritual's power, Astarion is still part of the bargain for said power. He still loses his soul in the process, and that is clear once we see how he acts post-ascension.

Of course, someone that is still suffering from the consequences of 200 years of abuse wouldn't care if he became less of himself, in the process of becoming untouchable ever again. Astarion's behaviour towards himself highlights that he doesn't care for the person he is because that person is, sadly, the product of those centuries of abuse.

He doesn't want to be that person anymore: even better, he doesn't want to be a person anymore: people suffer, people get taken advantage of, people are submitted by more powerful beings. He is willing to give this up not despite losing everything he is, but because of it. And that's what happens after his ascension: he retains his body, which becomes an empty shell of who he once was, with someone else inside of it to fill the void left by his soul.

This situation is a perfect, brutal metaphor of an abused person that later in life becomes the abuser himself, a thing that often happens to male victims of SA.

This is what is fundamentally wrong with Astarion's ascension: he's choosing power, his abuser's tool, over healing. Instead of learning to feel like a person again, to deal with his trauma to life after having endured it, he chooses to not feel anymore, while letting thousands of spawns (like he was) be consumed to get what he wants.

This terribly selfish act is the first instance of Astarion behaving like Cazador, considering the spawns as lesser beings, as nothing but his tools, like all vampire lords do. In this process he also sees himself, the person he gives up being, as a tool. He isn't healing. He's losing all of himself entirely.

Why would someone see this sacrifice as not only necessary to leave his trauma behind, but also preferable to healing from it?

The fan-favourite characteristic of Ascended Astarion is his behaviour towards Tav: in this version of "himself", he clearly is even more sexual than he was in his first days with the tadpole. And this expression of his sexuality is drastically different from the one we got to know prior to this point.

He is dominant, prevaricating, demanding in his avances: he enjoys being in a position of power even in his relationship.

This isn't the Astarion that slowly learns to trust his partner, to build a real loving relationship with someone who sees him as equal and truly cares for him.

Everything that he learns during his romance and his plot gets nullified by his ascension; and yet, this gets overlooked in favour of this more sexually appealing version of him. For people that claim to love his character because of his complexity, Ascended Astarion fans seem to only truly love him when he's less of himself than ever.

When all that's left of him is his body, and he behaves more like the toxic love interest from a young adult romance book, a great number of his fans get wild. Is this all that they want from him? The husk of the funny, sarcastic, dramatic and complex character, filled with this more traditionally masculine attitude, replacing what he used to be? An Astarion that never heals from his trauma, choosing to leave behind everything he was instead? Who resembles his abuser more than ever?

Do his fans who like his ascended version so much to genuinely think this is the best outcome for him, or do they just enjoy being able to project this "macho" fantasy on a physically attractive male character, that otherwise isn't anything like this prototype of man?

We can't help but think that appreciating Ascended Astarion is the same as believing in, if not loving, his hypersexual facade: it's overlooking his humanity in favour of sexualising him.

Which is the biggest disservice one could ever do to his character.

[enaelyork]

Cooper Howard (ghoul) x fem!reader with this prompt:

*someone smacks readers ass*

*gun clicks*

Ghoul - “oh I really wish you hadn’t have done that”

Hi ! Thx for this request ! Here i go :)

Bad idea ~ The Ghoul x F!Reader

Tw : Injurie, Sexual harassement, insultes

Banners by @saradika

It wasn't a good idea.

However, he was used to bad plans, ever since he roamed the wasteland with the firm intention of surviving there. But he had never made a series of bad decisions so quickly.

Let yourself be convinced to be accompanied. Let his new companion in misfortune enter this mess to make a deal.

Really. That being said, this idiot clearly didn't give him a choice.

And he was obliged to follow it because it was the only possible option to know the route to take towards your next objective. Staying in the background, he observed all the eyes on her.

A woman like that wouldn't often walk through the doors of a bounty hunting establishment.

This interest they had in his associate bothered him more than it should and he felt a certain form of inexplicable anger boiling within him.

- I'll do it. Wait outside.

Sitting at the bar, Y/N turned towards him, her eyes filled with burning determination and resentment. It wouldn't be easy to change her mind, not after your little talk last night.

- Do you want to team up now? The Ghoul returned the bitterness in her eyes, resting her elbow on the counter where she had just swallowed her second glass.

What if he wanted to work in a team? Never ! What if this situation made him crazy? Absolutely.

- I didn't say that, I said you had to wait for me outside.

- And I told you that I would take care of this matter.

And if you continue, you're going to have a lot more business to attend to. He thought, observing the eyes fixed on her again. The irrepressible urge to put out each of those eyes was excruciating and he was going to have to keep a low profile if he didn't want the plan to screw up further.

But everything went to hell the moment this idiot placed his ass on the stool that separated you from her, devouring the entirety of her silhouette with a wicked and disgusting look. He shouldn't get involved. After all, Y/N had gotten into this mess alone, you had nothing to share other than a common quest.

It was now time she truly discovered the horror of the world they lived in. So if this guy wanted to try anything, she would defend herself or find out the hard way that there weren't all good people here.

- What is such a pretty girl like you doing in this shithole? The man stood between them like a thick, disgusting wall.

The Ghoul looked away, hoping that by detaching himself from this pathetic spectacle, he would also curtail his murderous urges.

- The pretty girl doesn't talk to strangers. You better give me some space.

A smile appeared on the Ghoul's mouth. Presumably, guts wasn’t a privilege Y/N reserved for him. And that was probably what he liked most about her, even if he would never admit it.

- Relax, my beauty. In this brutal world I just want to share a moment of gentleness.

And me a bloody parenthesis, but unfortunately we can't have everything. The Ghoul thought, looking down at the back of the man next to him. He had placed an arm on the table and was already handing Y/N a glass.

- I am not thirsty.

- So maybe you want something else?

That's how everything went wrong.

Him and his rudeness, him now clinging to her and his hand sliding up her thigh to go up to her buttock. He touched her with such eagerness that it was embarrassing and although she wanted to slap him, she did not want to attract the attention of the tenants. Big mistake.

- You have a fucking ass, my beauty. Would you like me to warm it up a bit? It seems that not many people have had the opportunity to…

The man didn't finish his sentence, the pressure he felt between his legs and the very characteristic click of a gun about to fire froze him in place.

- What is…

He met nothing but the cold, imperturbable gaze of the Ghoul. The sinister look he hid in the shadow of his hat would have caused the bar to evacuate immediately. Y/N saw him, she felt anger boiling in the pit of her stomach, causing a completely different reaction in her.

- Try touchin' her again and I guarantee you'll never be able to play with what's between your legs again.

- Such a smart one, you. Are you looking for troubles ? I was there before.

- Big mistake, she belongs to me.

- I don’t belong to…

- Shut it up, sweatheart. I have some scores to settle with this guy.

Oh damn, no problem. Y/N grumbled in a whisper mixing anxiety and excitement. Had he really just threatened a guy because he had the misfortune of touching her and feeling her butt? A thin smile appeared on her lips at this idea, but she preferred to leave this strange reaction to the effect of adrenaline.

- Get out of here where you will end up with a hole between your legs and, rest assured, I will think of you when I caress her with your blood on my hands.

It was too much.

No waves.

No shouting.

No tussle.

Just a stupid hunter freeing himself from the coldness of his gun to flee with a step that he wanted to be serene but which betrayed the panic that reigned within him. The ghoul followed him with his gaze, making sure that it wouldn't occur to his to turn back.

When he disappeared from the bar, however, he felt another figure settle down on the stool next to him.

- Did you really just do that?

YN.

She had taken her place there, next to him. Her eyes glided over him with a light he didn't know existed and it upset him. So much so that he preferred to ensure the safety of his weapon before storing it in its holster.

- I did it. And you will quickly forget everything. That and also your stupid idea. Let's get out of here.

He didn't give her time to respond, taking off from the seat to head towards the exit as well. If she stayed there, too bad for her, he wouldn't intervene twice. But her shadow followed him, and he could make out the sound of her footsteps behind his, hastily approaching him.

- It would be a shame to forget the idea that you could touch me.

This is how he understood that she had reduced him to nothing.

Him and his certainty of now being insensitive.

[h7jfangirl]

WONDERLAND KING!JEKYLL DRAWINGS!!!!

HE LOOKS SO FRUTY

For his outfit I wanted to him to have actual king's cloths so I used a reference and also kinda fuse the clothing with Jekyll's, so he looks WONDERFUL

Henry didn't came to Wonderland with that outfit, of course he came with his usual one. His king outfit was a gift from Wonderland, he just behaves so well in here! He is TRULY not only one of them! BUT THE ONE! why wouldn't be the man that in sanity splited his soul in two be NOT worth it for the title of KING OF MADNESS!?

He was a leader before, but now he will finally be the GREATEST OF ALL! Now in his new castle at London, once known as "The Society for Arcane Sciencies", the fun will never end!

"Where... where did he get that outfit?" Even Hyde has his opinions about it.

He mostly wears blue with some yellow, however the red hints are meant to represent that this is still Henry, SO maybe.... And just maybe... It's not too late for him...

Even under Wonderland's influcence, Henry dosen't see the need to change Laynon at all, for him, Robert it's just perfect as he is and wants to keep him like that, Laynon on the other hand... He loves Henry but he has his limits

I can imagine their dynamic would be like Henry keeping Robert inside the castle and oftenly comes to him, acting very flirtous towards Laynon. He treats Robert more like his favorite pet/toy who carries wherever he goes through the castle, a something to adore rather than a someone

While for Laynon everything it's... terrifying. He tries his best to follow this madness without 'losing his head' [In the two meanings...] In hopes he finds a way to snap Jekyll out of it. The world he once knew it's nothing but a memory buried deep down under this big childsh-madhouse, nothing makes sense to him anymore! He is always getting lost in the palace for how often the rooms and physics seems to change whatever they want, and is always guessing which answer the king and the other citizens would like to hear so he won't DIE, or whatever your majesty decide to do with him. The citizens dont see him as their other ruler, not even a equal, so they constanly play pranks and bad jokes on him, and if Robert gets upset then they will always tell to him that they would stop only but if only he truly joins with his king in 'holy madness'

He is an outcast in this 'new society'. For them, everything he does is wrong and inappropriate, and he absolutely hates that. The most normal conversations he ever has are with Henry but Laynon can't not longer let his guard down anymore, especially if Henry is not in the room, because when he is not around everything gets... unsettling. Robert feels watched by the surroundings, the sky, the floor, the walls, the lights, even by the air itself, and have hear voices every time he could swear that he was alone

It's like the whole world it's mocking him...

(So yeah, he is constantly dealing with bullshit, it hasn't been easy for him)

And Hyde didn't have it easier neither

At first, Hyde was EXCITED to have his own body, and Wonderland seems like a great place with plenty of opportunities! But Hyde being Hyde mess up his own way and started to have bad luck around the place, always getting in trouble and gaining enemies where he went through. Hyde need to pay for his crimes against Wonderland's citenzs!

And yes, he got capture by the Queen of Hearts for messing her garden of roses, however she is not the punishment. Hyde showed himself unworthy, so instead the role will be lead by his better and more manipulable side

Hyde wanted to be part of Wonderland but he realized that it's not that fun as he thought, but when he found the way out and left, he accidentally brought the madness with him. He doesn't feel guilty about it (or at least won't admit it) despite everyone who blames him, even Rachel. But now he is a proud member of some revolutionary team to stop this madness, that it's being led by Alice herself, the only one known who survived Wonderland, and it seems that he has an important part to play on this so Hyde is pretty happy about it, ESPECIALLY knowing that he is not the only one plotting angaist Jekyll anymore and now for actual value reasons, it's funnier than being a wonder

Jekyll, does not want Hyde at all

Hyde is a burden for him and Wonderland itself, Edward himself is one of them, he is already mad and his body does belong to Wonderland, but for some reason he is also immune to its power. Not matter what, Jekyll and Hyde are still connected, it was thanks to Hyde that they managed to escape the land, and also without knowing, leading the madness with him. Jekyll always knows where Hyde is, even if they are miles away from each other. However he doesn't see him as a threat, he just enjoys how Hyde is struggling without nothing but himself, and how his team is plotting against him in vain... If he desired he could just snap his fingers and all of them would be turned into wonders without a second thought, but he just kept them around because of Hyde

But the king enjoys the suffering of others, because he has the memories of suffering too

He does remember who he used to be, right before he even gave a step into Wonderland, his perspective has changed completely now.

What once he thought it was terrifying, it turned out to be the easiest thing in the world, and now he sees it now...

But, even as the king the voices are still annoying.