#by so many of my peers and adults and the only time someone has been quote unquote attracted to me was my abuser assaulting me.

[ankhisms]

overthinking about a silly stupid poll which shouldnt actually be upsetting but well.

[ssvnriseya]

IN TOO DEEP (D.D.)

summary - he wants more of you day by day as if he was being seduced by the forbidden fruit.

warnings - MDNI 18+ mentions of attempted rape, violence, language, dark!daryl, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), age gap ( reader is 18, daryl is 30. he has no weird feelings before she was 18 ), breeding kink, panty sniffing, intended lowercase (let me know if i missed anything)

request - keep a secret was amazing! i have a request for you, can you do a dark daryl fic set in prison era. where he keeps tabs on the reader, stalker stuff (steals her undies) and fucks her in prison showers. please include age gap (reader is 18, daryl is 30) and a breeding kink, please! - 🎀

note - okay, the characters deserve a happy ending at the prison, no one can change my mind!

masterlist

it was a hard year for you, you've lost too many people you cared about and gained more to care about.

your mother, lori, she died after giving birth to your baby sister. your little sister and brother were your angels.

they were the reason you still kept going, along with your dad, and the memories of your mom.

you had grown to care about the people of woodbury that now resided at your home, the prison.

whether it be the children, elders, teen, and adults. you absolutely love sasha, tyreese, and mika.

"hey, honey." carol smiled at you as she continued stirring the pot where all the people and your meals is being cooked.

"hey, carol. you didn't wake me up." you groaned at her as you walked to stand by her side.

"you were tired from the run yesterday, rick would kill me if i exhaust you too much." she smiled at you as she cut onions.

"i'll cut them." you smiled at her as you took the knife and chopping board.

"thank you. and i didn't wake you up because everything here is handled." she assured you.

it was early morning and no one was up yet, it gave you both the time to cook and chat freely.

"but, i woke up anyway." you teased her and nudged her as she stirred the pot and you chopped the onions.

"what are we having today?" you asked as you peered inside the bowl.

"just soup again with deer meat." she told you and you nodded, giggling.

"watery soup because we're lacking ingredients." you told her with a groan as you pour the onions in the soup.

"please, carol, remind me when i go on runs to pick up spices." you added.

"alright, young lady." she teased and you smiled, you both had been close ever since lori died.

she had been the mother figure, but not romantically to rick, she also stood as a mother to rick, if that was possible.

"who caught the deer? daryl again?" you asked as you frowned at the chopped meat.

"who else? he's our only hunter." she smiled at you, knowing that you utterly despised the man.

"okay, maybe i won't eat." you joked with a huff as you crossed your arms.

"then don'." someone told you from behind making you gasp in shock.

"daryl! don't sneak up on people like that!" you told him as you looked at him with disapproval.

"if ye' don't like m' deers, don't eat!" he sneered at you making you let out a small smile.

"okay, i won't." you told him and leaned in to carol, to gossip with her. daryl is in a fair distance.

you took over stirring and whispered something to her, "i'm fucking missing one again."

you groaned as you frowned, it was very hard to loose a pair of panties.

it was very hard to find one on runs and you will suddenly loose some?

"if one of the women are stealing them, it's very unhygienic." you shook your head.

"it would disappear only to appear two days or a day after, you'll get it back." she reassured you.

"what the fuck are they doing with my knickers?" you told aloud making daryl look at you.

you rolled your eyes at him and stared into the pot, it was boiling and the delicious smell of it was making you hungry.

your pride was high so you went right back into your cell block once the woodbury people came out into the courtyard.

it hadn't only been half an hour before daryl came knocking at your cell.

"ye' can eat, was jus' jokin'." he told you in a quiet voice, you smiled.

"okay!" you stood up from your bed and placed your book to the side.

you were never the first to apologize, if you knew you weren't in the biggest wrong.

"carol told you to apologize?" you smiled as you stood in front of him, he was a lot taller than you.

"nah." he responded and you nodded, smiling. you stepped out of the cell, brushing past him.

"i'll follow ye' back, 'm jus' gon' do somethin'." he told you with a nod.

you gave him a thumbs up before going down the stairs and out the cell block.

daryl waited for a few minutes before going into your cell, he went to your basket full of clothes.

he quickly placed the panty, that you were missing, back into the basket. he grabbed another one and stuffed it into his pocket.

he wasn't usually like this but you made him crazy, with you scent and the way you acted around him.

you despised him sometimes, yet you could tolerate him enough to flirt with him.

he hated how you made him feel, he wanted to stop what crazy shit he was even doing.

but the thing is, he can't, he's in too deep in the situation. he's fucking addicted to your natural smell.

he fucked your underwear every night, imagining that it was you. he absolutely loved those moments.

call him a creep and whatsoever but he's obsessed with you. so fucking obsessed.

he loved the smell and heat in the shower when he got in right after you finished bathing.

he loved your hair, the way it flows smoothly whenever you ran your fingers in them when frustrated.

don't get him started in your smile, he can fucking kill an entire herd if that means he gets to see you smile.

he loved your skin, your soft milky skin and how they easily turn red when being gripped to tight.

he wondered if he gripped your wrists to tight when he was fucking deep balls into you, would they leave a fucking bruise? he loved that idea, meaning everyone would see that someone fucked you that night.

he loved your body, every curve, every form of you from head to toe.

he went crazy on every teenagers from woodbury who even tried to go near you.

he did it in private, just to not have him scare you off. he almost killed for you, he would do anything just to protect you.

it was when you were on the road, right after the farm fell. you, maggie, glenn and daryl encountered a group of men when you were on the run for the group.

the men was obviously stuffed full, having the weapons and foods that you all were desperately trying to find.

they were obviously a whole lot bigger, not starved during the months that the whole apocalypse started.

glenn and daryl tried to talk to the men, in hopes of escaping the men.

they failed and two of them went to beat up glenn and daryl, making you pull out a gun.

it was a very ugly fight, glenn received a broken nose and multiple bruises in the face and stomach.

daryl was worse, he tried to punch back just to get to you, but to no avail it only made things worse.

that left two other men that was onto you and maggie, you fucking tried to fight him off, he was too big.

he tried to rape the both of you, and that made daryl see red, he was on full adrenaline that he fucking killed the four men single-handedly.

it ended with glenn almost passed out cold, you and maggie shaken up and lastly daryl who was still gritting his teeth in anger.

he fucking swore to himself not to let any other dirty men touch you for their own pleasure.

"daryl!" he was cut-off in his trance by a small voice calling out to him.

he stood up immediately from his crouched position and turned to face the door.

carl stood there with a smile on his face as he nodded at daryl.

"what are you doing here? anyways where is she?" carl asked, looking for you as he inspected the room-cell.

"out in the courtyard... ye' eat already?" daryl asked the little boy as he stepped out from your cell, closing the gate behind him.

"no, i was just going to call her so we could eat together." carl said in a small voice, he wanted to spend more time with you, he felt as if everything that's been happening has been pulling you away from him.

"let's go 'ere together." he put a hand on the little boy's shoulder, giving him a thin smile.

"she's probably eatin' with andrea and carol." he said referring to the older women you hung out with.

"yeah, i'll run so i can see sophia." carl told daryl as the little boy beamed.

"ya..." daryl nodded at carl, and the latter took it as a sign to ran out to the court yard.

when he arrived at the courtyard it was busy with people and their own conversations.

he looked for you and didn't see you, he was worried that maybe you were off with some boys.

he would definitely fucking beat the shit out of the boy who ever tried to take you from him.

his thoughts were proven wrong when a small bunch of people were by gate.

he immediately spotted your hair that made him crazy but not as much as you made him crazy.

he walked towards you with a frown, his frown falling and replaced with a small smile as he heard you laugh.

michonne was there, looking proud and almost eye-teary. you hugged her as you also sobbed with joy.

he was confused why but his smile also grew bigger once he saw what was inside the box that michonne brought back.

the head of the governor was sitting there, eyes in shock and lifeless.

they had spent months hunting for the governor and now they found him, they can finally breath in peace.

the governor looked dirty, his beard and moustache was grown, wildly. like he doesn't have a place to stay and clean himself up.

"we're free, daryl." you whispered to him and you also hugged him, cheeks stained in tears.

he pulled away and wiped your tears away, just like he's always wanted to do.

he looked behind michonne to find a small group of people. they looked relieved to see a sanctuary ahead of them.

"oh, this is the family i found with philip. they didn't know who he truly was, so i explained it all." michonne pointed to the three people standing at the corner.

you gave them a slight wave as you smiled at the little girl, "this is tara, lilly and her daughter, meghan." michonne added.

they smiled awkwardly and gave a little wave back, glancing at daryl, rick, michonne, carol and you.

"and this is eugene, he pretended to be a scientist who knows the cure to all but all is well, rosita, and abraham." michonne pointed to the other three standing at a fair distance from tara's family.

"hi!" you gave rosita, eugene and abraham a small smile and a wave.

you walked to stand beside your dad, wrapping your hand around his arms as he inspected the strangers.

"you sure they could be trusted?" rick looked at michonne, she nodded and glanced back at the six.

"alright." rick said with a smile at michonne, he trusted her and would listen to every thing she said.

"welcome to the group!" you greeted them cheerily, you went near meghan and took her small hands into yours.

"i'll take her to meet the kids." you told lilly and she nodded, she can't believe that there's a sanctuary for them to live in, for her daughter and sister to live in peacefully.

you walked with meghan, hand in hand as you took her to the field where the kids played.

"join them, okay? if anyone bullies you, tell me. i'll kick their ass." you smiled at the young girl.

you instantly warmed up to her innocent eyes and warm heart, listening to whatever she was told.

you turned around and jumped back, looking at daryl in shock as you held your hand to your chest to calm your breathing.

"you scared me, dixon!" you told him with a shark glare as you walked past him.

"ye' makin' threats to lil' kids now?" he joke half heartedly, you giggled.

"i like her, she's sweet." you told him with a small sigh as you walked side by side with him.

"wha' s'wrong?" he asked with furrowed eyebrows as he scanned your face.

"nothing, i just really wanted a baby before all this. they're cute and really sweet." you ranted as you puffed your cheeks.

"ye? baby?" he asked like he couldn't believe it, you pouted at him and rolled your eyes.

"sorry, was kiddin'." he told you with a small smile, you only frowned in response.

"yes... but it's hard, and i don't think i'm ready again as i was before. there's an apocalypse now and there's hardly anyone my age around here, and if there is... t—they just avoid me like plague!" you said with an unreadable emotion.

"who told ye' anything about boys yer' age?" he asked as he walked with you into the cell block.

"i don't get it..." you told him as you walked up the stairs and stopping right outside your cell.

you walked inside and he followed in suit, you smiled and gestured for him to sit on the bed.

"maybe ye' can try wit' someone younger or older." he said with a grunt.

"what are you suggesting, dixon?!" you teased him as you stopped pacing.

you wiggled your eyebrows at him when he started stuttering and turn a bit red.

"nothin' forget it." he told you and he stood up but you immediately were in front of him and held his shoulders to get him back to sitting.

"i was just teasing you, daryl. but, no kidding, i really should try with someone older?" you asked with pure innocence that daryl couldn't face.

"y—ya..." he stuttered and scratched the back of his neck as he looked at his lap.

"well, there's johnny, he's five years older." you told him as you sat beside him.

"nah... he's been wit' almost everyone 'ere." he told you as he shook his head.

"okay... i really need to take a bath, do you mind if we talk later?" you asked him as you stood up from the bed.

he shook his head and also stood up, "also got somethin' else t'do."

"okay, bye!" you waved at him and ushered him out of your cell.

you groaned and went to your clean basket, in search of clothes to wear in the sunny day.

you picked out your clothes and took a glance at the dirty pile.

your underwear, was already there. you picked it up carefully and examined it.

you dropped it with a groan, you had to get used to someone stealing your panties just to bring them back.

but it's creepy as fuck and totally unhygienic if they're wearing it or what ever.

you stood up from your crouched position, your towel and clothes in hand.

you walked out of your cell and closed it behind you, it was quiet inside as almost all of the people living in the cell block was outside.

it was a good time to shower, considering there's a population of a hundred in the prison.

it really was hard to shower with that many people, there were many showers but it looks like the time people wants to shower is whenever you wanted to.

you entered the room where a dozen of shower was, you and your original group shared this shower.

you didn't have to worry about peeping tom's or creepy men spying you.

you placed the towel on the hanging bar and your clothes on the table outside.

you stepped in, undressing yourself as you placed your dirty clothes on another rack.

the fucking cold water was refreshing, you really needed it, considering that it was a hot day in the prison.

you showered very quickly so your group can still have cold water, you felt bad because they've been spending all day in the sun ever since summer.

you pulled on your towel and wrapped it around your body, stepping out on the shower.

you went to the table and grabbed your clothes, going back inside the shower to change.

the clothes you wore were just a jeans short and a camisole, perfect wear for a sunny day.

besides you will be working on the fence today, so you still had to shower later.

work on the fence was exhausting, imagine that you will be standing outside for a few hours just killing walkers with the sun glaring down at you.

but it's worth it because by the end of the day there weren't walkers anymore by the fence.

and when you wake up the next morning there is walkers, and you kill them again.

that was your routine but sometimes you're on babysitting duty with beth, a girl just your age.

she was the sister of maggie, innocent just like you, just more shy and she's not as open-mouthed as you.

you stepped out of the shower again, dressed in clean clothes. you went to the rack that you found on a run a month ago and placed your towel there along with a few others.

an old lady was kind enough to stitch your name on the towel so it doesn't get mixed with the others.

it was a very sweet thing to do, she also was one of the elders you absolutely adore.

you went back to your cell and brushed your hair, it has grown longly, it wasn't the same mid-hair length when the apocalypse started.

instead it reached just above your butt, you smiled as you braided your hair and put little clips on it.

you shuffled on your make-shift drawer and looked for the sunscreen that thankfully michonne found on a run a week ago.

she found a full box of sunscreen and gave it to those who were on fence duty which was twenty people or so.

you don't get bored as much in fence duty when you had karen to gossip with.

she's always telling you how romantic tyreese is, how their dates always end with a sweet kiss.

it makes your heart flutter that your friend found love amidst all this.

you applied sunscreen on your exposed skin, you even went about thinking that you should just wear long-sleeves and pants.

karen would kill you, ranting about how you might faint again like you did once on fence duty.

it worried the hell out of everyone and you were on cooking and babysitting duty for a month after that.

you kind of don't want that to happen so you decided against it.

you placed the sunscreen back on your drawer and went out the cell, after slipping on your cowboy boots.

you walked past cell's when you heard grunts and moans in a particular cell you know too well.

you walked near it with cautious step, "daryl?" you asked him, you can't see anything because of the white sheet that covered the gate.

you opened the cell and found daryl flustered, "you okay, old man? are you having back pain?"

asking him was kind of you, considering you were starting to warm up to him.

"i can massage you if you want, i'll just skip fence duty." you offered to him as you walked by his bed.

your brows were furrowed in worry, he felt bad for making you worry when he was just jerking himself onto your underwear, smelling it like a creep.

"i do it all the time with dad, when he's having back problems." you explained as you sat beside him.

this was one of the reasons he fell for you, your kindness and no hesitation to help.

he didn't know why he started liking you when you all found the prison.

he hated himself at first, for falling for you who's almost half his age and you're most importantly, the daughter of a man he considered his best friend.

he felt sick but he can't do anything with it, his feelings for you grew deeper especially when the woodbury people arrived.

he didn't know what to tell rick. “hey man, i like your daughter.” was that what he's supposed to say?

"nah... 'm fine. ye' should go before yer' late f'fence duty." he told you.

you shrugged but nodded, "okay..." you st oppd up from his bed.

"if you feel sick, tell me." you smiled at him and went out of his cell, continuing your walk down the stairs.

it took a good minute before you were out of the cell block, you walked in the hallways before you managed to exit the prison.

"hi, karen..." you waved at the said woman and walked to approach her.

you also greeted tyreese who kissed his girlfriend good bye and waved back at you.

"that was a sweet kiss, i'm jealous." you teased her and then pouted, you wanted to experience loving someone.

beth have zack and she's your age, carl have sophia and they're younger than you! how was it fair?

you even asked rick if he would allow you to have a boyfriend over dinner the other night.

the rest of the group laughed while carol, michonne and andrea teased you.

you didn't notice how daryl's mood was down the whole night after that.

he wanted you to notice him, he tried to argue with you every chance he got just to have you notice him.

"you'll find them someday." karen knew what you were thinking and you gave her a small nod.

she handed you a sharp spear and you both walked to the fence where the other's are working now.

you worked for hours along side karen and by the time you were done, the sun was almost setting.

it made every sweat worth it because there's not a single walker in sight.

it was really a good setting, with the council and how they handled every thing.

you all were working to make the prison a home, the crops had grown and are ready to harvest every three weeks.

it was all because of the fertilizers you all try to find every run, and the pigs and chicken had more babies.

it was a good life and it would stay like that forever. you said goodbye to karen and placed the spear on the basket just outside the prison doors.

you went to your cell and picked out a set of sleepwear for a quick shower before dinner.

"hey, daryl... you going to shower too?" you asked when you met him down the stairs.

it's been a weird day, you've been seeing more of him ever since today.

you felt like you've seen him a lot more today that you ever did before the prison.

"mhm." was all he responded, you nodded and walked with him towards the bathroom.

"daryl, have you been talking to dad?" you asked him as you synced your footsteps with his.

"ya, why?" he asked as he glanced at your face, he quickly looked away.

"has he been doing better? maybe he wants to step-up again soon, the governor's gone now." you said lowly.

"he's yer' dad. why're ye' askin' me?" he groaned as he tried to not respond.

"we've all been busy, i don't even have time for them anymore." you said sadly, referring to your dad, carl, and judith.

"he's been better, improvin' since lori." he nodded, his southern accent thick.

"do you miss the people we've lost? like jacqui, mom, jim, and dale?" you asked him.

he shook his head, "they were never important t'me." he shrugged and you nodded.

"you must felt absolutely relieved when you found out merle's alive." you nudged him with your elbow.

you were happy for him that he's doing good with his brother, who was a jerk at first.

merle was starting to adjust to the prison and found a woman he love, he's in the council along with a few others.

"what about shane, ye' miss him?" daryl teased you, nodding to your words about merle.

"ew, no! he's a fucker." you groaned in disgust as you imagined the things he did to your family.

"did a number on ye' didn't he?" daryl smirked and you can feel your cheeks heat up just by his smirk.

"but i can't say that he shouldn't have done the things he did, 'cause jude wouldn't be here." you smiled sadly.

"ye' little ass-kicker is growin' fast." he shook his head with a smile.

"i heard that maggie is pregnant." you beamed at daryl, your eyes glinting with happiness at a new baby in the prison.

"ye', glenn told me earlier." daryl nodded, also happy for the couple since the farm.

you both stopped at the entrance of the bathroom, the sound of water droplets is the only thing that could be heard.

you looked at him as you bit your lip, analyzing his brows, his lashes, eye color, and his lips.

you gulped when he leaned in closer, you couldn't deny that sometimes there's that attraction for him deep down.

the attraction you kept hidden down in fear. he was a very closed off man, you were just scared of rejection.

how can you resist him? now that he's leaning in to place his lips onto yours.

you also can't deny that he's a very attractive man, with a shoulder that could make you swoon, and his arms that you wished to hold.

he has tattoos and you found them pretty and meaningful, he had a tattoo on his collar bone.

you didn't know what it meant but it's just a letter, a simple letter placed there.

it was an x.

you closed your eyes when you felt his lips touch yours gently, as if they were just tasting.

he tasted like cigarettes and booze. you can feel yourself getting drunk on his mouth.

you let out a small whimper when he squeezed your ass, he pulled away and took of his shirt.

he placed it on the laundry basket and kissed you again. you took a step back and he pulled the curtains out of the way to enter the bathroom.

"we shouldn't be doing this." you told him, pulling away as you shrugged of your own shirt.

"ya." he agreed and started attacking your neck, making you release small moans.

the clothes and towels you both had were left scattered on the table when you have thrown it.

he gently guided you, taking a step forward as you took a step back.

he guided you to the nearest room to shower, pressing your back against the wall.

he fumbled with your bra as you grabbed onto his hair, keeping your moans at bay.

you helped him slip it off, and he immediately attacked your breasts with kisses.

he turned on the shower and it made you smile at him as you got wet by the water.

you brushed your fingers through his hair, fixing it and moving it out of his face.

placing your hands on his neck, you leaned in and kissed him once again.

you can feel his erection on your stomach and that made you groan.

he held you by the waist and leaned down to meet your kisses as he was taller and bigger than you.

you slid off your panties slowly and you can feel the wetness on your thighs, not by the water but because of him.

he groaned as he rubbed your clit when his hands found it's way there.

you burried your face on his shoulder as you stopped yourself from moaning.

you heard the water stop running on the other stall and a few shuffle here and there.

and finally the moment you were waiting for, the shuffle of the curtains, indicating the person has left.

he lined the tip of his cock onto your entrance and you gripped his shoulders, you weren't sure if it would fit.

he pushed in with one deep thrust making you cry out in pain, you didn't expect him to be that rough.

he started thrusting in and out as you bit your lip you can taste the metallic taste in your tongue.

you moaned, as your hips met his desperately. all the pain was gone now and was replaced by bliss and pleasure.

"s'fuckin' tight, princess." he went deeper and faster with each thrust making you moan loudly.

you were scared to get caught but you couldn't stop the sinful moans that were leaving your mouth.

everyone was probably at dinner already.

you would be disgusted when someone told you that you'd be having sex with your dad's best friend a year ago.

it was so sinful, he was much older and also your dad's best friend, you want to stop but he felt so fucking good.

"daryl, mhm..." you moaned as he kept his thrusting, you can feel the tingling on your lower stomach.

a sense of sign that you were about to cum, it was quick but you can't help yourself.

he felt so good and it was too long ago that you've done this and felt pleasure, the only good thing was that this was better.

"i—i'm about to... c—cum." you moaned as you met his lips for a passionate kiss.

"cum 'round daddy's cock, baby." he groaned into your ear once you pulled away from the kiss.

he can feel your velvety walls clench around him, if he kept going on like this he would also cum.

"yer' so warm." he praised you making you whine, you were so turned on by the sound of your skin slapping together.

"i—I'm cumming." you informed him as you closed your eyes in pleasure.

stopping your hips from meeting his as you came. you moaned from the high feeling.

he kept thrusting into you with force, into your wet, tight and sensitive cunt.

"i'm gonna cum inside you." he looked into your eyes with a dark look.

you shook your head, "i—i'm not on birth control..." you whined as you shook from another orgasm.

"don't care." he shut you up by kissing you with much domination and force, he bit your lip and you pulled away.

"daryl... i—i'm not ready." you whimpered as you pushed on his shoulders.

he ignored you, "i'm gonna fill you up with my babies." he said once again, ignoring your total protests.

"you'd look so pretty carrying my babies." he kissed your jaw and sucked on your sweet spot.

you felt his cock twitch before he finished up inside you, you moaned.

"y-you came inside me!" you looked at him with anger as you unlatch yourself from him.

your legs giving out from intense orgasm, he held you to support you up.

"i love ye', we can have a happy family, you'll have a baby like you've always wanted." he assured you.

you shook your head as you wiped your tears, "w-what would dad say." you whisper to him as you pout.

"i'll worry about him, just be a good girl for me." he grabbed the shampoo as he put some on your hair, washing it for you.

"ye' feel good, so fuckin' good. better than yer' panties." he said with a smirk

you gasped and looked at him, there were a million questions running around your head.

"you're the one who's been stealing them?!" you asked in anger and embarrassment.

"hm, ye' smell so fuckin' good, baby." he praised you, making your cheeks hot again.

"that's embarrassing." you said in a small voice, looking away from him.

"i'll take care of ye' and in just a few months you'll have a baby bump." he kissed you once again.

you shivered and couldn't help but look at your stomach, caressing it.

you can feel his warm cum inside you, it was probably getting to work now.

it was too late for you to take pills, you felt like crying. you weren't ready for a baby, you were before, but you weren't sure now.

he promised to take care of you, he should. what if your dad gets angry if you tell him?

you can't bear the thought of your dad or carl ever being mad at you.

it would ruin you and you can't even think about the people at the prison, the people you love hating you because of your relationship with daryl.

"ye'll look good with m'babies, trust m'." daryl whispered to you, sucking on your neck.

what have you gotten yourself into?

[writella]

Reckless Romantics

Synopsis: Can be read as a stand alone or part two to getting ready for me; a return to innocent, inexperienced!reader and her relationship with Rick Grimes; two weeks after their first time together there has been some distance, but now Rick wants to make up for how hasty he was when he touched her last.

Details: Rick Grimes x fem!reader, smut: oral (f receiving) and teaching reader how to give a handjob, unspecified (of age) age gap, sweetness + kissing + a little mutual pining maybe, probably cliche, and leaning more into Rick as the dutiful leader and gentle lover (I feel this is just as in character as dom!Rick). Reader is a music lover— any kind of music you like— but she also likes a specific band only because I watched a documentary about them at the theater in July so it made its way into the story. Slightly proofread�� will be corrected more later. wc: 5-7k (I lost track after finishing it on tumblr).

A/N: I wrote this message before I returned for the summer, but I still want you to read it: Been spending time outside this summer, trying to reach some goals— time got away from me. I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying I miss you, but please know it’s always true.

— with love from writella, my beautiful reader. ♡

Rick Grimes was not a man to give in to temptation.

My mercy prevails over my wrath, he’d say— his secret keepsake phrase. The one he whispers to himself in moments of hardship; the one he uses when he needs to make decisions only a leader would. Rick was a man of discipline; honor. He never boasted about how seriously he took these qualities, but when others did— admired, applauded, stuck by him for it— it would be a lie to say that he didn’t take note and use their pride to keep him going. This is how he knows he is strong-willed, why he wouldn’t fall for foolish, forbidden things. He was better than that. The safety and prosperity he brought to Alexandria proved it, reaffirmed it.

So why couldn’t someone remind him of that two weeks ago before he touched you?

As for you, you believed yourself to be a girl who wouldn’t fall so easily for the first man who showed you any kind of affection.

From an adolescence of peers who never seemed to take notice of you to one filled with walkers and adults who were either dead or seldom your age, you learned how hard love, let alone any connection, is to come by. It has made you quite the perpetual daydreamer because of it. One with a heart and mind filled with fantasy worlds, creating what you lacked externally. It often made you see yourself as much younger than you were despite all you’ve been through. No regular person your age in the old world has probably escaped as many deaths and wannabe cowboy dictators as you have. Still, they probably knew what it was like to have a high school romance, or at least go to the movies with friends, and have graduated from well, anything. You were simply born too late and shoved into this new world too early to experience even half of it.

This upbringing has brought you up to believe yourself precocious, although— maybe you were already too old for that word now. No, you were, so maybe– sensible, realistic despite the overactive imagination; you could decipher between right and wrong, real versus fake. This is why, for as long as you could, you did not entertain any thoughts of Rick Grimes.

Other people would though, women mostly. But you did have your suspicions of others who thought the same— they just weren't as shameless. Those who were, could be found during lunch breaks from work on house porches; or laughing and whispering at community gatherings and at the back of town hall meetings. Basically any time or place they could turn into a gossip session, which was often. And it didn’t always have to do with Rick. It could be about any one of the men in town; or retelling funny moments to their friends or complaining about their co-workers. But anything of true, great interest always had to do with the community leaders. You wish you could say you were the exception to this interest, but hypocritically, you loved a good inside scoop, and luckily for you, you had a trustworthy way about you. Almost everyone who spoke to you or allowed you to sit with them and their friends for meals agreed: you were a intent, quiet listener making you the best kind of person to say things to without judgment; and people assumed you as shy, yet you loved to laugh which was great for boosting egos. They often treated you as a little sister in that way, as if the pleasure was all yours to get to hear their ramblings because they were either older or perceived themselves to be more sociable and experienced than you. You tried not to care too much about what they took you for. It was nice to feel trusted, even if people could be a little too mean or weird for your liking because no matter who it was, they made you feel as if you were watching television, and you missed television. They told you things from period mishaps– (it’s the apocalypse, there are a lot of free bleeding queens okay)— to which people in their workstations annoyed them most with very detailed explanations as to why and, of course, rumors or general talk about the leaders: who they thought each of them has slept with, if there seemed to be any fighting between them and what side they were taking, and obviously, anything that had to do with one of the guys. Some were downright obvious that one or the other was their type, while others might try to be more sly about it, always bringing whichever man it was up more than the others. But unless they were diehard Daryl girls, wanted to dominate Glenn, or had some military man, hot priest, or doctor kink for Abraham, Gabriel, or Siddiq, most of them apparently felt that Rick was the love of their lives. He was like a local celebrity. A band’s frontman.

“So, what about you?” One of your scavenging partners asked on the ride home. “Which one do you like?”

“They’re all attractive guys,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road. “But I don’t really think about them like that.” You feel a flush coming on. Crushes, or anything romantic, is a part of your internal world, not something you discuss aloud.

“Come on,” she prods. “You never join in. You just laugh at us for being delusional.”

“Whose us?” Rosita asks, her voice sharp, humorous, and not without judgment. “I don’t talk about that shit.” But secretly, she loved the drama as much as you and would have many questions for you later tonight about why you have yet to tell her of the town obsession of treating her friends like the cast of a reality show.

“I don’t laugh at you! I like it when you guys talk about that stuff.”

“But what I’m saying is that I didn’t let you ride shotgun this time so you can hold out again,” the girl jokes half-heartedly.

“What do you mean this time? I get to ride shotgun because I’m the one with the CDs.”

And it’s true, the only thing that cancelled out the silence of drive in moments where conversation ceased was your Oasis album playing in the background. Learning about the band was your new obsession. Much like listening to the crazy imaginations of the girls in town, you found the Gallagher brother rivalry riveting even if you only knew pieces of the story from the music, scraps of magazine articles, and by asking whoever in town happened to be a teen in the 90s. Thankfully you had hit the jackpot today though. One of the houses you visited was once occupied by a dad and daughter with an insane music collection in the living room and a smaller, more curated one in the girl’s room. After gathering what new music you wanted to try from downstairs, you also found some old issues of QuizFest in the girl’s room, filled with activities that were themed with shows you remember from when you were a kid, but the most important discovery— the find of all finds— was one of those Ultimate Guide, Complete Life Story magazines of none other than the band Oasis.

You would now probably know all of the drama between the brothers to tell a coherent story about the band’s history to anyone who wanted an escape from walker related events and farming talk. When you weren’t listening, that’s what people would come to you for: to borrow music, get recommendations, or to tell them a story. In all, you were getting the reputation of being the town’s music historian, meaning you usually used your knowledge to avoid talking about yourself. And it mostly worked.

Except for now.

“Well, if I had to guess,” the girl persists despite your silence, “I think it would be Rick.”

“What?” Noticing the incredulity in your tone, you calm your voice. Shrugging you say, “Why Rick? Everyone likes him.”

Rosita sends a look your way. It’s innocent enough, probably just showing that she is still listening on as she drives but you were refusing to look at anyone now to know for sure.

“Exactly,” the girl says. “He’s a classic knight in shining armor type. I feel like he’d talk you through it, which I think would be good for— someone like you.”

Your face is on fire, you can’t even speak properly. “I- first of all, what do you know about my experience?” you ask, the incredulous tone returning. But all you get as an answer is knowing snorts and chortles from the two women. Ouch. Nonetheless, you continue, “Second, you think shooting a guy in the head in front of his wife and the whole town is chivalrous?”

Oh—

That makes car goes quiet.

You know you made a mistake.

You didn’t mean it as crassly as you said it, and you did feel bad for saying it knowing that the situation was more difficult than you summed it up to be, but you didn’t apologize. All this talk about crushes and especially Rick made you embarrassed. It’s not that you didn't see what others saw anyway. Of course you noticed how nice Rick’s curls are, how he doesn’t have to use any product for them to look as they do; or those blue eyes and how when you get closer, they become that much more stark and crisp; or how good he was at talking to people, convincing them of things or simply just reassuring them as a friend; and that southern drawl that still sometimes catches you by surprise by sounding so pronounced at the end of certain words, making his voice that much more intoxicating. Of course you saw the appeal, but that didn’t mean you had a crush on him.

Right?

Maybe it doesn’t matter. You just felt you knew better. He was like a president. You know of them, and you believe in them, but you don’t get close to them. And it didn’t matter that he told Carl to personally deliver you a stereo he and Daryl found while out once. How he remembered how you liked music. How he told Carl to tell you this one was probably better than the old one you had, that it was louder. You only showed him your old stereo that once when he was helping you move. He was just a perceptive guy with a good memory. All leaders are like that.

Right?

Anyway, let’s get back to your crass… joke.

“Hilarious.” Rosita says and you hear the low contempt in her voice at your insensitivity.

“That was ages ago though,” the girl chimes in, saving you just a little, “and he did it to help her. He didn’t care about the mess he made. He save her. I’d say that’s pretty romantic.”

“Let’s not call that romantic,” Rosita scoffs, and despite the slight frustration, there was a quiet sadness in her voice at the memory. “That wasn’t love.”

“That was reckless, not romantic.” You agree. Partly because you truly do, but also in attempt to win back favor from your friend. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

But after that day, it was all you could think about.

The idea of a knight; a romantic; someone that would do anything for you, ruin his reputation for you; find gifts from the outside that he’d send is son to give to you. Maybe you did find it charming, idyllic.

These thoughts soared in your mind so much so that on one night when thinking about boys from books or your favorite artists wasn't enough during moments under your sheets when your back arched and your fingers trailed up your thighs, your mind switched from people you would never meet to him, to Rick. Your eyes scrunched tighter, and you tried to shake it away, telling yourself it was just the women in town and the talk in the car getting to you. But then you thought about how rich and hot pink his lips looked on a bright sun-burning day and how it would feel like flames firing inside of you if he kissed you with them.

Ideas like these went on for nearly a year now. You even started questioned if maybe you had always liked him, maybe you were always just like the other girls even though tried to not be. You had thought it made you respectful, realistic; after all, how could Rick be the love of your life if he was everyone’s? Wonderings like this became even worse and more confusing when Rosita had asked if you’d like to move in with her. Becoming closer with her meant being around the leaders more often, which meant coincidental encounters and conversations with Rick as well. Quickly, he wasn’t just that president or celebrity anymore who talked to you sometimes and got you that stereo that once. He was becoming a peer— at least in some ways. One who was curious about your interests as much as your opinions. But it’s not exactly like you were in the in-crowd now as some people assumed. You didn’t get to go to leader meetings, and as much as you knew Rosita must have been telling you more than others know, she couldn’t have been telling you everything. But you did see him more than other people now, when he and the leaders came over to the house or when Rosita was invited over to theirs and she’s tell you to come too. And now, with these thoughts spiraling, you can’t help but to look back at the at the times where Rick approached you, gave you all his attention no matter how small it was and asked you about what you were listening to or reading that week, letting you ramble. He was an older guy, yes, but he cared, he actually listened, and he didn’t make you feel like the childish little sister others do.

Sadly, you did become the fawn like you had told yourself you wouldn’t be. But you couldn’t stop picturing him when you closed your eyes, and in fact, it was nice to imagine someone to fall asleep with, to wake up to. It was just going be your secret. Part of your fantasy world. But then— it all caught up to you.

Through the sliver of the open door he saw you, fingers between folds, goading yourself on as you chanted his name in whispers.

And to your surprise, he encouraged it. No, he did so much more than that— he helped you, made you come; gave you your first orgasm and made you his like no one has before.

You loved it. You gave into it. Even if it was just one secret moment. It made you give into the idea that this would continue but of course, it didn’t. He hasn’t spoken to you in almost three weeks until—

“Woah-” you gasp, almost crashing into just the person as you exit your room.

“Sorry,” you both say in unison, holding onto each other's forearms before quickly letting go. Your arms cross over into your chest before dropping as you enter your room again, clearing the hallway, and his hands go behind his back. He’s still as unsteady as you are, his mouth is slightly open, thinking of what to say.

“Hi,” you whisper tentatively.

“Good morning,” he politely replies. His eyes now smile slightly as he nods to you. You don’t miss how the light emanating from your bright room makes them shine. And he doesn’t miss how the light shining behind your figure makes you, in your white cotton sundress, look like an absolute angel.

“Good morning,” you repeat, giggling slightly, not knowing what else to say.

“Good morning,” he says again, lost and as giddy as you are.

“Oh wait— is the leader’s meeting here today?” Rick starts to nod and answers yes as you continue to speak, “I totally forgot! I’m sorry. I know I should be gone by now.”

He shakes his head, “It’s fine. I was just going to the bathroom.”

“Here? Was someone in the one downstairs?”

“Just wanted to be away from everyone when they came. Daryl and I came early so we started talking and I just- we didn’t see eye to eye on something. I needed a minute.”

You nod. That seems to be your signature when to talk to him. You hated it honestly. Often over-analyzing your words, worrying you’ll sound immature or stutter in front of him. “I'm sorry,” you tell him sympathetically. For a moment there is only silence which makes you worry he will go away, so without thinking, you ask: “I know you’re busy but, if you need a moment, maybe you would like to come in here instead?”

Rick freezes but then, inevitably agrees. As he enters, you close the door and quickly go to shut off the low playing stereo and rehang some of the dresses on your chair in the closet— you had been getting ready for the day. Rick goes to sit on the chair after you empty it but you stop him. You sit on the vertical side of your bed and guesture Rick to sit in the spot next to you, closer to the headboard. You wanted to sit next to him.

Rick doesn’t question this, maybe he wanted to be as close to you as you had, so as he sits, your thighs touch. You try not to move too much at the first contact. Still, the heat that starts to burn inside you makes you realize how much you’ve craved this. Can two weeks feel like a lifetime? It’s like you haven’t felt him in ages.

“What were you playing today?” He asks and you realize you eyes went straight to the area where yours and Rick’s legs touched. You know he noticed but still you try to answer normally.

“Selena. Rosita loves her. It’s one of her most famous songs: Amor Prohibido.”

He nods. “I probably wouldn’t understand a bit of it,” he laughs.

He would probably remember the singer from the news if you gave more context but you don’t. There is a silence that follows until you ask, “So,” starting slowly, “what’s wrong? Is Daryl aright?”

He doesn’t answer. His mouth is open as if he’s deciding what to say, but nothing comes out, so you continue, “You know, nothing is ever right in the world when Rick and Daryl fight. It makes me sad.”

The joke makes those lines at the sides of his eyes appear— a quiet laugh. “Well you know I’d never want to make you sad. Especially not you.” You two exchange a light smile while that heat rises fast to your heart. “We’ll be fine,” he finally says, but then he goes quiet again. Rick seems unsure if he wants to continue. He even looks at the door, wonders if the others have shown up yet, but— he knows he doesn’t want to leave. And even more, he knows he shouldn’t after ignoring you like some teenage boy. He decides to tell you what’s happening: “Daryl wants us to bring new people in. You know how he’s always going out there. But I think it’s way too soon.”

You hum agreeingly, but at the same time, you understand Daryl. “I think he just likes to give people what he never used to have,” you suggest.

“I know,” he nods a bit annoyedly; “and that’s a nice way to put it, but you know him, when he has his mind set on somethin’ he can be so damn stubborn. It’s frustrating. He won’t compromise or listen to anything.”

Endearingly, you try to withhold a laugh, your lisp pursing. Not only because when he says anything, it actually sounds like anythang, but because Rick sounds like he’s describing himself and he doesn’t even realize it.

“And,” he adds, pausing for a moment before he continues, scratching his beard. It looks as if maybe he shouldn’t tell you what he’s about to. His head hangs low to say: This is not information for everyone to know, okay? But the last time he went out there with Glenn, the reason Glenn’s arm is in a sling right now, is because they met a group, tried to bring them back and before they could make it even close to home, the group fought ‘em, tried to steal what they scavenged, and almost kill Glenn.”

You widen your eyes at the statement. You actually already knew this from Rosita, but that will stay between you two. All you feel is humbled that he felt he share it with you, despite it being a dark thing. It was a close call. Rick was right for being very cautious right now. “Wow,” is all you can get in before he speaks again.

“Imagine if we lost him. Fought this war with his wife and unborn baby at the time for nothing? So he couldn’t even meet him?” Rick shakes his head, and you notice his foot tapping lightly, making his knee bounce. This had happened a month ago now but it was obviously affecting him. “It was reckless and I told him that. That right now we need to be focusing on what’s inside these walls. People have only just started getting back to being comfortable now; to feeling like this is a home.”

Your eyes remain wide, “We did so much rebuilding you.”

“We did complete rebuilding.” He corrects, though not rudely. Shaking his head, he goes back to talking about Daryl: “I think I made it seem like what happened to Glenn was his fault. So not only were we arguing but I must’ve hurt him,” Rick realizes, “and now he definitely won’t be back today— maybe not even until next week.”

A silence hangs in the air after this; it seems he finished. Now, you know you should speak, but as the silence continues, you grow more unsure of what to say. Issues like these are things you’ve never dealt with. You didn’t want to say something stereotypical.

“I’m sorry I’m putting all this on you.”

“No, no,” you quickly console, trying to think. “Um, well,” you say, starting unsteadily, “this is probably going to sound stupid and not helpful. I don’t even remember the exact context or what was truly said so it might not make any sense either but, do you remember when I had my Oasis obsession? Earlier this year?”

“I do,” he laughs, turning his head over to your music table. His eyes scan any of the visible album titles to see if he can find it, but the print on most of them are too small. He turns back to you as you continue:

“This is going to sound a little far off but I think you and Daryl are like Liam and Noel.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Didn’t those two hate each other?”

“I mean, yes— but it’s much more complicated than that to me— but no, I don’t mean in that way. It just that there is this quote Noel says that I don’t remember exactly, but I really liked: he said that even though he wrote the music and Liam did the singing that Liam meant the words just as much as Noel did because they’re brothers and he wrote them. I thought that was beautiful, but…” you trail off.

He stays silent, trying to give you space to find your words but you feel like you’ve gone too far. It’s all pretty convoluted and not a true comparison to what’s going on that you’re even confusing yourself a little. “I think what I mean is that even though they have their different roles, they still feel very similar things and believe in the same purpose. I think that’s like you and Daryl. You two are so similar yet so different. But there’s still a binding force that always brings the two of you together. So, like I’m sure you already know and I didn’t even need to tell you, but you two will be okay. You two have different ways of doing things, but the music or the life you’re trying to create in Alexandria still has the same meaning to the both of you.” You laugh small and breathily as you end. “That probably didn’t make sense.”

Rick smiles to himself. “I didn’t get that first bit, with the quote, but no… that made a lot of sense to me.” He nods toward you and you return his smile. “You’re so bright. You know that? Not everyone knows how to stitch things together like that the way you do.”

This makes you feel good. Rick thought you were smart. You know you should say thank you, but instead, something else comes out: “May I, may I kiss you?”

“Yes,” he answers, almost stuttering it out, a hint of hesitation before he did, but he nods so kindly, so reassuringly as he tells you again: “yes.”

Your fingers touch his lower cheeks lightly, feeling the bristles of his beard. You’re slow, and careful, and scared. Your fingers linger on his jaw for a moment until they completely caress his right cheek and then you move in, swiftly— worried you’ll lose your confidence, worried he’ll change his mind. You catch his lower lip and seal the kiss. Your lips are locked for a few seconds until you retreat. It was nice, and exciting, but short. You knew you could have put your tongue in his mouth. You believe he would have let you because you remember when he did it last time, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself by doing it wrong and once again reminding him how much you don’t know. But you’re sure giving him a grade school kiss like this one was enough of a reminder.

Your eyes roll down, chin low. Your cheeks are on fire and your hands do not know where to go so you start fiddling with the hem of your dress and then you laugh. You were trying to be courageous this time, and you were, but you also weren’t.

Rick grabs your left hand, holding it at the end of your thigh, “I liked that,” he says softly.

“You did?” You ask as softly as he, eyes meeting his.

A short, airy snicker comes out, “Mhm,” he hums, giving you a closed-mouth smile. He found you simply adorable.

“Can I… try it again?”

Rick pulls on your forearm, attempting to bring you closer to him. “Yeah,” he nods, voice gentle. “Do you want me to help?”

You nod before you speak, happily accepting, “Yes.”

He puts your hands on his shoulders. One of his grabs onto your waist and the other holds you lightly under your chin, adjusting your head to meet his lips. The first kiss he places holds just for a couple of moments as the one you gave him did, gentle but packed with longing. The next two are slow, pretty pecks that already have you melting at his touch, lips agape waiting for the next one. The fourth is the one where he brings his tongue into your mouth, carefully bringing it in quarter by quarter. He tastes the top of your mouth and tongue and you feel him as he slowly starts to explore how far you may like to go, but truly you become stagnant other than your hands that press into his shoulder. Luckily, Rick either doesn’t notice your hesitation or is already silently helping you as he takes the lead, pulling you closer by the hips and slipping his tongue in and out of your mouth to kiss you more. It makes you smile— the excitement of your first make-out session. You giggle, and then it makes him smile too and your teeth slightly bump into each other. Accidently you nip his lip because of it, making you pull back.

Your fingers hover over your lips as you impart a quiet apology but Rick just shakes his head giving you another quick kiss instead. He starts to move back on your bed, back pressed again the headboard and he tells you quietly, “Come here.”

You get up and sit higher up on the bed as well, calves folded under your thighs. He takes one of your legs and starts to put it over his as he asks, “Is this okay?”

You nod, vigor growing as you do it now, thrilled to sit on his lap. Your dress bunches around your hips and the tops of your thighs. You move closer to press your chest into his and you kiss him first again, another small one but with intent as you look at him afterward, feeling the scratch of his beard on your fingertips as you smile at him, in awe that this is happening.

“You want to try this time?”

“Uh,” he means you put your tongue in his mouth this time, but you’re afraid to do it wrong but you know you want to say yes so you do, “Yes, okay.”

So he brings you in again and you kiss him. He mouth opens a little and you try to bring your tongue in slightly but you teeth clash. “Sorry,” and quickly he responds that it’s okay and rubs your cheek, telling you to just open your mouth a little wider, no teeth, let your tongue go on top of his.

You try it. Your tongues meet again, licking each other tips before you slowing press in more, your chest touching his as you try to close the gap.

Rick starts slowly rocking your hips against his and he takes control of the kiss again. It helps you not think, you like it. And you like the feeling of that incoming tight bulge starting to form under his jeans, but then you let go. “Wait,” you say, “I like this.” You pause for a moment, confusing him more as to why you stopped. “But… there is something I wanted to ask you.”

“Okay,” his hand stay fixed on your hips and waist, rubbing soothily, “What it is?”

Another pause. “I feel nervous,” you whisper.

“You have no reason to be, sweetheart. You can ask me anything.”

You laugh, smiling as you look off to the side. Anythang.

He smiles too, although unknowingly to what you found funny. His head tilts as he tries to find your gaze and turn it towards him again.

“Well, the last time we were together here you taught me how to do something. You taught me how to pleasure myself better so,” you stutter, “I want to pleasure you. If that’s okay. And I was wondering if you’d teach me how- to touch you here.” You remove yourself from straddling him and point in the direction of his cock.

Instantly he feels a stir of his already hardening dick.

This is not how he expected things to go this time. Or truly, he didn’t expect any of this at all, but when you asked to kiss him he decided he would be gentle, more giving. It felt like you wanted him to take again, the exact thing he was trying not to do. “I feel like I took advantage of you last time.”

“Rick…” you shake your head. “I’m the one who didn’t close the door all the way. You asked if it was okay and then you asked if you could go faster. I said yes to everything…” You start to worry— is he second guessing everything now?—“I feel maybe we remember this differently.” You bow your head again now. Feeling ashamed, wondering if he did.

Rick places one hand on your knee to comfort you although he still says, “It’s just that I’ve never done something like this before.” His thumb sways on your skin. “I just don’t want you to end up feeling like you’re wasting your time. Your first times.”

You’re surprised, “It’s so funny how you can be so self-assured in front of a crowd and now you don’t think you’re good enough.” You take his hand and press it towards your chest. Your heart was racing. “I like you. So much.” You swallow as he says your name softly, realizing how fast your heart was going. “No one in town is truly ever mean to me or anything, and Rosita has been so kind with letting me move in with her and we talk and its nice but, you know— she has her flings and her friendships that are separate from mine and everyone just always seems like they have their person and I just don’t. I don’t have my person, or any person.” You remove your hands from your chest but Rick still holds onto it, squeezing your hand as you start speaking again. “You’re kind, Rick, and you make me excited, and you remember things about me… “ If your face could get any hotter, it does, “And, well, you’re very handsome. If you could teach me again, I would like that.”

God… Rick was trying to be a romantic yet you were so adamant on getting him off. He laughed inwardly, shaking his head, deciding that the best way to handle this situation— and make up for some of his guilt as he was trying to— would be to give you the thing you say you want and not what he thinks you want. Suppose that’s one for widower’s wisdom.

Decidedly, Rick gets up from the bed, giving you a once over, still admiring how adorable, and how sexy, you look to him with your feet under your lap, hands on your knees as you look up at him from the bed and your white dress. He starts undoing his shirt buttons. “Remember when I did this the first time?”

A smirk came on, there’s the Rick you remember. Blue eyes intense, and voice getting cocky as he gets ready to give you what you need, what he knows you only want from him.

“Yes,” you say quiet yet with budding excitement. You start going for the hem of your dress, “Should I start taking this off too?”

“Mm, stay like that.” He’s taking off his belt. “Thought you looked beautiful in it right when I saw you.”

Your thighs squeeze together slightly. Rick Grimes was undressing before you, for you, and calling you smart and beautiful all the while.

As Rick lowers his boxers, his cock springs up. He returns to his spot on the bed, back leaning against the headboard. All of a sudden he seems to truly recognize that he is the only one exposed. He would tell you what to do, guide you, but in a small way, in a way you probably didn’t realize, you were in control. It seems that each time this happens— although it’s only been twice— and each time he talks to you— which has been plenty— you steal a little more of Rick’s heart and he just can’t stop it.

“So,” he clears his throat, your eager eyes on his cock making him twitch, “you usually just wrap your hand around, start from the base and keep pumping up.” He shakes his head, “there’s not too much too it but it’s best to keep your hand light at the start, you—”

You nod quickly, “May I?”

As he nods back you, “Yes.” And as he says it you’re already licking your hand.

“Is it okay if I spit? That helps right? Or is that nasty to you?”

He’s caught off guard, “No, no, that helps.”

So you do and you place your hand lightly at the base as he said and you start to pump. Instantly, he lets out a gasp, and the next noises that follow are repressed grunts and groans. You want to ask him to stop doing that but you’re a little scared to speak up that way just yet and you’re too engrossed in how you can see the light veins of green and blue on him and how he’s so red at the tip. It was honestly exciting. Just this, touching him with your hand, staring at his member and watching him twitch as his mouth opens to pant lightly. It still felt unreal but you liked it and you were happy to learn. You start to pump him more towards the top, placing your thumb on his slit- pressing in. His abs clench at that. You push in a little harder and you squeeze your fist around him a little— testing it out to see what happens—and he groans, unadulterated this time, “oh, fuck.”

The heel of your foot that’s under your lap pushes into your center at that.

You start pumping faster. “Am I doing good, Rick?”

Hearing your voice sets him off, “Fuck, sweetheart. Yes.” He’s honestly choking out each of his words, he didn’t expect to get so turned on by all of this. He realizes the last time he had sex was with you that first time, and before that… he can’t even remember. “You’re doing an amazing job.”

As you pump, you start to slow down, only doing it shallowly towards his base. You’re feeling confident and you kiss the side of him, licking a fat stripe up to the top and then you pump him fully again.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he breathes out. He wants to tell you to slow down but it comes out of nowhere, he stutters before he can even speak. An unintelligible groan mixed with a moan comes out abrupt and louder than he intends and white spurts of liquid come out.

You go faster for a few moments, then start to slow down, a little unsure of what is best to do, but you notice when you start squeezing him a little more as you continue to pump up and more whiteness fall out from inside of him.

“Did I, make you come?”

“Yeah,” he says, huffing.

“I did?” your cheekbones rise as you ask with awe— it was another first for the books.

Rick’s tries to let his embarrassment fade, he can tell you were just excited about it, but still, he looks down and to the side, avoiding direct eye contact— almost like you typically would. You peer at him, almost nervously because of it. Rick is usually the confident one. “Doesn’t always happen that fast,” he explains.

“Well before a month ago I didn’t know how to make myself come so I wouldn’t know,” you say with self-deprecating assurance. You had heard from the girls in town that it was easier to make men orgasm. You already had it in your head as something not to judge. You wonder how hard he must have been restraining himself the first time he placed himself inside you, or if it just happened to be easier for him that time around. “I didn’t expect I could do it or anything really. I thought it was…” you smile while giggling, “interesting.”

“A good interesting I hope.”

“Very,” you assure. “I liked it.” You kiss his cheek as you take some wipes that are by your night stand and you start cleaning him up. He doesn’t tell you that you don’t have to; he helps along with you.

“You sure you’ve never done any of this before?”

You shake your head. “I just read fiction books.”

He smiles to himself, a quiet snort of laughter leaving his nose. You always surprise him.

When you two are done cleaning, he puts his boxers back on. Quickly, he is on the bed again and starts to kissing you. Rick holds your shoulder and pushes you down. Finally, it’s time for his redemption, he feels. It was your turn to be pleasured. Just like he wanted to do from the beginning.

Rick kisses down your neck to your collarbone, and the parts of your exposed chest and he pushes your dress up past your hips. His lips move back up to yours, kissing you more before saying, “I really wanna show you something sweetheart.” He presses his thumb into your clit over your underwear. “Can I kiss you down there? Have you ever had that before?”

You shake your head slowly, eyes wide. “I-” you start nodding your head, “-I would really like that.” And in such a small voice you add, “Please.”

Rick kisses your cheek. Deep and softly he breathlessly tells you, “I would love to.”

Rick moves his head lower and gives you slow kisses over your underwear from your mound to the end of your lips. He starts to drag your panties over your legs and once they’re gone he kisses up your thighs. Then his nose rubs and sways ever so lightly on your lips. He breathes in and it makes you shutter. Your heart is going crazy again. Finally, he licks upward. One long and languid stripe ending with a kiss to your clit and then he truly begins.

Tongues are wet and sticky and everything you ever dreamed of. Your eyes roll back instantly from that first lick and kiss. You remember a time when you started touching yourself that you used to never think of receiving oral. You thought it was scary, nasty, that you wouldn’t like it until the moment you thought about it as a million kisses on your most sensitive lips, or someone liking you so much that they’d get drenched by your wetness just to touch you, to taste you. After that, you thought about it all the time and now it was finally happening– someone needing you so much they just had to know what you taste like. Here he was: kissing, licking, sucking, not caring about how he looks but only how you feel— you now knew what it was like to be desired.

Rick presses his tongue flat on your clit, rubbing deep circles. His eyes are open, looking up at how your mouth opens wider and wider. You let out little whimpers, enamored by his tongue, still deciding if you like the scratch of his beard, but your eyes stay glued to the ceiling, scared to look at the scene below.

He gives you kitten licks in between speaking, “Look down. Don’t miss your first time.”

Your eyes go down slowly, watching as he gives open mouth kisses to your clit and right lip, tilting his head. He stays there for a moment, hearing your short and breathy pants, kissing and licking your clit and lower lips like they were the ones above your chin. His eye contact sends bursts of sticky wet fluid down your hole and you release a whimpered moan, they’re always sp short and soft and high pitched. He can tell you like it but he can also see you’re nervous. You don’t trust yourself, you know it, and he’s starting to realize it too. You’re scared of completely letting go.

He peppers kisses to your clit before moving upward, his tongue rolling and mouth kissing from your lower stomach to your breasts till his face reaches yours again. “No one’s here,” he tells you. He then kisses your lips allowing you to taste yourself for the first time. “Relax,” he whispers, rolling out each syllable. He holds your chin with one hand while he inserts a finger into your hole with the other, his pointer is instantly drenched and you shudder at the feeling. His single calloused finger reminds you of the time he was last inside you. He pumps slowly, looking into your eyes as he speaks, “Don’t think about who could come downstairs.”

“What if Rosita or Daryl come back?”

“What if?” He says it so simply as if he’s ready for everyone to know. Truly, that would be an issue, but right now it was not about him and it was completely about you; he wanted to give. It was short-sighted, reckless, yes, but… you were just so pretty, so bright, so insightful, and he felt like he needed to make up for all the taking he did last time, of your first time. Rosita had went to run after Daryl, hopefully no one was here anyway. But again, he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. “Lay back,” he gently commands, “forget what I said before- close your eyes. Just give in to it. Like I’m the only one who's here.”

Rick licks zig zag stripes down your slit and then he decides to insert his tongue in your hole. He goes as deep as his tongue allows, collecting your wetness and trying to swallow it in moments when he turns back to kissing. He his nose is brushing and rubbing up against your clit as he sucks wetness from down below and you start letting out stringy moans you can’t control. Soft, pretty, and continuous, “uh, ah, uh, uh” that turn into “sorry, I’m sorry.” You’re still self-conscious about your own noises. This was still only the second time you’ve heard the sounds you make when someone else is fucking you.

But Rick shushes you. Giving small kisses to your clit as he looks up at you, seeing your scrunched eyes and open mouth. “I like knowing you like it, pretty girl. I like all those pretty sounds you’re making.”

Your pussy tightens around nothing at that phrase.

“Keep going. You don’t have to be shy.” He grabs your chin and you look down at him. His beard is wet. “We’ve already made a mess anyway.”

He starts kissing your labias, licking up wetness when you decide to ask, nervously, “Can you make sounds too?”

Instantly, Rick goes again to kiss your clit, humming into it as he sucks. Breathing against you he says, “Want me to tell you I like it, sweetheart?” His tongue slides down again, tongue reaching into your hole and he moans into your pussy.

Your back arches and you mewl, you could almost scream.

That’s it, he thinks. Rick keeps humming and groaning into you now. His voice is so seductive. “I love tasting your pussy, baby.”

You couldn’t breathe.

Rick starts rubbing your clit with his thumb and going fast with his tongue in your hole “My bright, pretty girl gonna come for me? Hm?”

“Oh, Rick, I want to. Please, Rick.”

Rick starts to go faster and your brain turns to mush. Only noises coming out and when he stops his tongue movements to say something more you push his head down. “Sorry,” you say. You’ve never been forceful before but he says nothing, just continues going down on you and taking his free hand to place it over his, gesturing that he wants your hands in his hair. You tug on his curls and he grunts into you. You start chanting his name and then he switches to placing his lips on your clit and putting two fingers in your pussy. It reminded you of the first time but instead of your three fingers they were two of his and it felt so much better than you ever knew before, better than you could ever do it yourself. It sets you off. Your eyes shut tighter if they could. “Rick! Oh my god,” you moan and then again and again and then you come.

Rick laps at your cunt, vigorously trying to wipe you clean. He makes it look like it will be the last and only time. It makes you worry but at the same time he looks so sexy like that; needy for you even after you finished.

He takes your wipes and cleans his lips before cleaning you up as you did for him. He kisses you thighs and your lips and your cheeks as he continues. “You did such a good job,” he says. “You always do.”

You’re filled with pride at that. “Thank you.” Then worry sets in. You realize how public you’ve made everything. “Did I just ruin your life?”

He laughs while caressing your thigh. That anxious expression of yours that he just got rid of returns after all the work he did.

“I’m gonna check downstairs. Okay? If they’re there, they’re there.” You nod. We already made a mess anyway, you remember him saying. “They might want to start the meeting when I go down so, whatever happens, happens alright? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Your eyes are still nervous, but it’s all too late anyway. “Okay,” you respond.

“Okay,” he says back, kissing you once more. As he dresses himself again, he tells you, “I promise I won’t wait two weeks to see you again.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he says as a send off and goes into the bathroom to clean his face.

When he reaches the living room, there is no one. Rick is thankful but confused.

As he nears the coffee table there is a sheet of yellow lined legal pad with a talkie next to it.

Call when you’re done, it reads.

“Rosita?” He questions into the device. Who else could it have been, right?

He can almost hear the grin on her face. “They should start calling you Reckless Rick for all the agony you put these Alexandria girls through.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “There’s just something about that stupid hair cowboy accent, I guess.”

Before he can respond, telling her that it’s absurd to think of him as a playboy, that he was far from it, she continues:

“So, fucking my roommate? You’re glad Glenn and Maggie called everyone over to theirs instead. Hershel took his first steps while you were teaching someone else how to take theirs.”

She unpressed the button to suppress her laughter. “Just get over here,” she concludes, putting down the walkie and going back to meet the rest of the group with a perfect poker face. She tells everyone Rick will be here shortly.

Oh, Alexandria’s leader and her new little best friend who has been hearing the townswomen’s fantasies of him for years: Reckless Rick and his reckless romantic girl.

Rosita would give you so much shit for this when she gets home.

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 28. perfect timing

chapter tags/warnings: therapist! toji. manipulative! naoya. toji defends you. naoya 100% has anger issues. infidelity/adultery. extremely strong language. corruption. family drama.

word count: 3.8k

notes: hugs to everyone! been a while, and my busy days at work (plus straggling mental health) have not been doing me favors. writing, reading, and interacting with you all have been bringing me joy. i spent extra time on this chapter to make this piece what i hoped it would be. enjoy. likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Toji loved working on Sundays.

With his colleagues off, Sundays were the only day in the week when Toji could be the sole person in the therapy office. He appreciated the slowness that came with working on the weekends, allowing him to balance his time for scheduled appointments with unoccupied windows used to strategize and decompress.

He relished in the lull. The tranquility. The peace.

But alas, the serenity was cut short on this particular Sunday, as someone barged through the entrance like a wild boar, causing a rambunctious racket as the front door flung open with immense force.

The doorknob clanged against the wall, and Toji—sitting behind the reception counter—looked up from a patient file on his computer screen. 

With both curiosity and annoyance, he peered above his monitor. 

The black tips to blond hair. The sharp brown glare. The permanent frown. 

Who else could this have been but Naoya Zenin, presenting himself in the flesh?

The incomer’s expression consisted of nothing but antipathy as he bared his teeth at the doorway, his hands balled into fists by his sides. Based on how he glared upon seeing his older cousin, anyone could safely conclude that this man was beyond livid. 

Must he pester me on the weekend? Toji thought as he mentally shook his head, clucking his tongue faintly in disapproval. He had not seen Naoya ever since his official departure from the Zenin Corporation and household, which was months ago. From his recollection, the manchild before him had a fickle personality, bursting into immature fits that easily made someone younger (like his son Megumi) seem like the actual adult around. 

Given this, Toji legitimately did not understand how you had been putting up with Naoya as your husband. 

As for himself, Toji did his best to ignore the new presence, clicking his mouse as he resumed analyzing the file on his screen. He did not wish to spare a moment longer than necessary tending to the human tornado on his way. If Toji had wanted to deal with Naoya in person, he would have confronted him long ago. Rather, he had decided strategically to watch his cousin wreak havoc from afar to avoid interacting with his burdensome family. Everyone in the Zenin household, except for Mai and Maki, was not worth the aggravation that came with mere association. 

Now, especially with today’s booked schedule, Toji would not be able to make an exception to soothe Naoya’s upcoming tantrum.

On the other hand, Naoya had no better choice than to drag himself to his older cousin’s doorstep.

Had circumstances been any different, he also could not bother to see Toji again. He hadn't talked to Toji in months. Why would he? After many years of neglect and inferiority, Naoya finally achieved everything he wanted. 

Or so he thought. 

This was why, to face his estranged relative again—after recently learning that you had been seeing him for weeks—was a grand ego blow to Naoya, who could not accept the possibility that he was losing his reputation’s very foundation to the man he had envied all his life.

Recognizing the indignation that fumed from the current Zenin heir, Toji seized the opportunity to inveigle his cousin and greeted him with a cheer.

“Good morning!” he beamed, raising his hand in salutation. The scar by his lips flexed from his grin. “Do you have an appointment?”

Naoya scowled awfully.

"Great to finally see you again, Toji Zenin."

Immediately, the said man’s smile fell at his cousin's overly casual tone. "Woah, there,” he shot back. “Show some respect, will you? First, my last name is Fushiguro. Do not refer to me as Zenin. Second, calling me by my first name is bad manners. I'm older than you, kid."

Without question, the comment irked the blonde. Of all people in the universe, this was Naoya Zenin in question, a hubristic man who hated humiliation and the need to concede. His demeanor hardened with resentment while he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Fine, Mr. Fushiguro."

Toji quirked another smile.

Theoretically, he had no problem demanding more but decided to be nice by saying, “That’s better.” He locked his computer as he shifted his attention, crossing his arms as his back rested against his chair. “I haven't seen you in a while. Remember the days when you used to work here, too? Good times, hm?" All rhetorical chit-chat and pleasantries and, as expected, there was no response. "Well, I have only a few minutes to spare, after which I have business to attend. So...what brings you to visit?”

Another ironic question, as Toji already knew the answer. 

Over the phone, he had spoken with an irate Naoya who demanded to speak to his wife and have her back home. Despite his insufferable treatment toward you, the Zenin CEO could not stand how his apartment remained empty the past few nights, meaning he hadn’t gotten his dick soaked by his lawful spouse like he should be doing.

But then again, Toji thought, he already has a mistress to satisfy himself with.

Meanwhile, Naoya might as well be digging holes into his cousin’s skull from how his glower fizzed with malice. He opened his mouth, only to promptly purse his lips again to choose his reply carefully. 

“Did you make her see you?”

Quite a question.

Toji blinked rapidly through an empty stare. 

Where did that come from? 

“‘See me?’” he had to clarify.

In one smooth motion, Toji stood from his seat, his chair bouncing back slightly when he did. With his arms still folded over his chest, he meandered around the counter area that separated the client and employee zones in the reception area, stopping mere steps away from the younger man. 

Then, he repeated, “See me who?”

Naoya did not appear amused in the slightest.

His hazel eyes all but narrowed from vexation. The paroxysm of negative emotions on the blonde’s face made him appear ready to snap. Like a button ready to blast everything around him, he was close to letting his wrath take over. “Did you send my wife your therapist information just so that you could talk to her and figure out how to get revenge on me?”

What an oddly specific accusation.

“Why would I do such a thing?” It was more of a statement than a question, and Toji could see how his nonchalance profoundly irritated the other man. “She found me like how all my other therapy clients find me. But me reaching out to her personally merely to spite you? No. That's only some shit you would think to do. Unlike yourself, I'm not that petty."

Toji was blunt in his response, he knew.

In his defense, he would rather cut to the chase than beat around the bush. 

He no longer headed the Zenin conglomerate, but he still had a therapy practice to manage and a family to look after. With his packed schedule, every second mattered and he wasn’t the type to waste his time lingering around and dealing with non-important business matters, such as the grouchy kid with him.

His observations definitely blew a fuse within Naoya, though. 

"Excuse me?!" In two sharp steps, he closed the distance between Toji and himself, jabbing a finger into the other's chest. Bold. “You’re fucked, you know that? You’re so damn fucked," he hissed, and the edges of his mouth contorted into a derisive sneer. “You…You’re goddamn obsessed with Y/N, and you don’t even realize that! Give me a fucking break. You only give two hoots about the bitch because she’s my wife, but you don't actually give a shit about the woman herself.”

At that, Toji immediately swatted the hand from his pec.

“Incorrect, I do,” he retorted, his tone firm. “But do you care about her?” and he didn’t need to hear a response for that one, so he went on. “No, you do not. You know what? I found her situation sad because every time your wife talked about you, she told me about how you neglect and can’t satisfy her. This entire time, I was sorry for her precisely because I know the person you are. Fine, you call her your wife. What that means is she's not just a pussy for you to play with. You can’t just pick and choose different parts of her. But where were you when your wife was crying?” He paused briefly, letting his words sink into his silenced cousin’s head. “Where were you, hm? Where were you when she was upset? Anyone with eyes could’ve seen that she’s been having a hard time! But where?” and Toji gave Naoya one pointed glare. “Where…was her husband?”

In the sheets with an older woman.

Of course, that very husband would not admit that aloud, especially since he had yet to realize that his older cousin already knew about his affair with the other’s ex-wife. Instead, Toji saw Naoya twist his lips into a deeper frown.

“I have a company to lead,” was the excuse he spat out, and he ran both hands through his light strands in evident frustration. “I can’t believe our family thought that you were a capable leader. I, however, saw right through your facades, alright? Despite all your fucking degrees and licenses, you left the Zenin Corporation as a shithole for me to manage.” 

“No, I had set the company to run efficiently,” Toji retorted, keeping his levelheaded demeanor. “You turned the Zenin Corporation into—in your own words—a shithole. You decided to fire everyone I had hired. So currently, your managers are inept, your shareholders are unhappy, your daddy is getting angry, and the most convenient person to blame is me.” He shrugged dismissively. “Rookie mistakes. E for Effort, I guess. Luckily for you, Y/N is a good way to cover up the competence which you lack. Thus, she’s only useful when you deem her as such.”

Naoya scoffed, and his shoulders rose and fell with each enraged breath. “Because you don’t understand what a burden she can otherwise be. Besides, I can treat and use her in whatever way I please!”

He might not display this visibly, but Toji felt disgusted. 

“Don’t talk like you own her. That’s disrespectful. She's a person, not an object.”

"What—" Naoya paused, and his eyebrows creased in annoyance. "Who the fuck do you think you are? That woman is my wife.”

“Then treat her like one,” Toji shot back. While matching Naoya's hostility with his own, he could see the latter's eyes widen at the remark. Not that Toji paid him any mind, and he continued staring at his younger cousin with an unfazed demeanor that showed how willing he was to defend. "She might be your wife, but she is not your property.”

As if Naoya would care. 

Rather, he clenched his hands into tight fists by his sides. “You need to stay away from her. You’ve had your chances with marriages. Y/N is mine and not yours. I swear, if you talk about her with your gross lips again, I'll—" He stopped, as he wasn’t quite sure what would be a good threat. “I’ll—”

“You’ll do what, kid?” Toji interrupted, knowing just how pissed Naoya would get from every reminder of who the older person was and who the actual successor to the Zenin inheritance should be. “I’ll keep her since you can’t. You call her a burden, but I don’t find her to be one. I don’t know about you, but I like her. Have you ever had a civil conversation with her? She's sweet and quite interesting to talk to.”

The continuous comments unsurprisingly make Naoya bristle further.

“I said don’t talk about her like that!” he snarled. “Here you are, bossing me around and telling me to treat her better, but listen to how you talk about the woman! Holy shit, you're such a fucking creep.” 

“Me?” Toji repeated, appalled by his bravery to say those words. “Mind you, boy, she is the one who wanted to talk to me first. As her concerned therapist and the more mature adult, I believe I must listen to her complaints and make her feel better, especially when she keeps whining she’s not being fucked good.”

Naoya breathed heavily, his chest undulating while he boiled with rage. Yet, as the younger, more naive, and less physically adept challenger, he could not make himself fight back against the other man. “You...You don’t know shit, Fushiguro.”

Immediately, Toji arched a brow. 

“Really?" Was that supposed to be an insult? "I don't know shit?" This was hilarious! "Oh, boy. I know a lot of fucking shit alright. About ‘your wife’ or whatever you want to deem her, there is not a single chance in hell that she’d ever think about calling you her husband anymore.”

Naoya stared back, rather stupefied. 

In any other situation, he would simply take the remark as a cheap way to rouse him. Of course, talking about you would be the easiest route to do so. This time, though, Toji’s suspiciously happy visage as he retraced his steps to the counter and positioned himself comfortably against the surface had him uneasy. 

He did not like what the other man insinuated. 

"What...do you mean?" As much as he tried, Naoya could not hide how affected he appeared. “Our marriage is none of your damn business.”

Toji shrugged. "Marriage? What marriage? I don't see the rings on her finger, kid. Heard she tossed them. Apparently, you made her upset enough for her to take them off."

Without a better way to retaliate, Naoya clenched his teeth to signal his displease. “Ring or not, she’s still my wife,” he spat. “Plus, I do not want my wife around a womanizer like you.” 

Instead of taking umbrage from your husband’s words, Toji tossed his head to the side and let out a deep, harrowing chortle. “Wow! You’re one to talk," he rebuked. "The whole household used to joke about how you brought a different girlfriend to each of our family dinners. At the moment, you’re married, and what? You want your spouse to come home, but you then drive her away. You want her to be a good partner, but torment her when she does. Please, you are embarrassing yourself. Why don’t you make up your fucking mind?” With his emerald gaze returning to the younger man, Toji then added, “Now, if you excuse me. My next client is arriving and I have an appointment."

Still, Naoya was not ready to let the conversation end. “We’re not done. You think you’re all ‘high and mighty.’ But, you’re low, Toji. So, so low. Your last wife was a divorcee, and now you’re a motherfucker into married women, huh?” 

"So were you." 

"What?"

"Baby?"

And, in one go, all signs of life drained away from Naoya swiftly at the new voice. 

No fucking way, his expression seemed to read as he craned his neck around in rigid and robotic motions. Naoya had to blink twice to confirm the woman by the door before he placed his arms down and froze.

Mari, who returned the man’s aghast expression with perplexion, had her dark brows crinkled. “What…Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Even with Naoya’s face presently angled away, Toji could see his eyes widen at the ludicrous question. Yet, they both thought the same thing: did she forget where she was?

“What are you doing here? I did not expect you,” she continued. “But, I’m here for an…an appointment.”

Her voice trailed off.

When the woman finally seemed to remember that Toji was also there, her dark eyes rounded in alarm. Wait, her expression seemed to say as she very, very slowly dragged her sights to the man by the counter. Once her eyes met Toji’s, her jaw fell slack before she promptly slapped both hands over her gaping mouth. 

With the two visitors transformed into Medusa's stone statues, Toji took great gratification in the perfect timing. This coincidence far exceeded his expectations because he honestly did not anticipate ever being in the same vicinity as Naoya and Mari, yet here he was. Presented this chance, Toji pushed his bottom lip out in fake thought and furrowed his brows, pointing at Mari then Naoya then at Mari again. 

“Seems like you two know each other?” he asked in mock confusion, his finger swinging between the pair. “How come I didn’t get invited to the party? Has something been going on between my baby cousin and my ex-wife?”

No response.

So, he continued.

“What? Were you two spying on me or something?” (He knew the answer was yes.) “Or…wait,” and his voice dropped to a dangerous low, “Don’t tell me that you two…have been having an affair?”

Naoya—realizing the trap they had been set up in—swung his arm forward, prepared to defend them with whatever good lies he could spin (which Toji knew that he had a talent for), only for the woman to speak up first.

“We’re acquaintances.”

The manner in which Mari snapped caused Toji to pop a brow in surprise.

Oh? he noted. His suggestion on their illicit relationship appeared to strike a particular nerve. Even Naoya could sense the danger in his mistress’s overreaction as his eyes widened in horror. He tried to give her a warning expression, but she failed to see him. 

By the way, did Naoya, know that Mari—well—wasn’t very streetsmart? 

Maybe, but he likely prioritized keeping her in his bed to pay her absent wits any attention.

At this, Toji could not pass on the excellent opportunity to simultaneously provoke the two people who betrayed him. 

“Just acquaintances?” he pressed.

“Yes.” 

In another curt response, Mari pressed her lips into a firm line and shot Naoya a ‘shut the hell up and play along’ look, thinking she was slick when Toji only felt second-hand embarrassment from how utterly blatant the communication had been executed.

Pretending to nod along, Toji added, “Interesting. Because I never knew acquaintances called each other ‘baby.’”

Checkmate.

But the woman must not be thinking, as she sensed her inevitable defeat but hurriedly explained herself by saying, “It’s not what you think, Naoya and I haven’t had sex since—”

“Stop,” Toji interrupted before she could finish her sentence. That statement truly crossed the line. The lady must be inane. To talk about her dirty deeds with his relative as if that was appropriate! Clearly, she was oblivious to common sense and proper etiquette, given how she was desperate to try to save some face, resorting to the most crass justifications as if that would ameliorate the issue. Toji felt ashamed to think that he used to be married to this woman for years. While he noticed a fit of pique boiling within him, he ultimately let the ill feelings go. “I never asked about your sex lives. I don’t want to hear about what you two have been doing.”

Plus, the tabloids have shown him enough already.

Nonetheless, Mari’s face brewed with annoyance. She folded her arms firmly and tucked her chin outward. “Well, if that’s the case, then when and where I’m riding your cousin's dick should not matter!”

“Oh my fucking lord, stop talking already!” and this time, it was Naoya who spoke, shouting into his hands and cupping his face from sheer exasperation. He had been stunned speechless for a while but could no longer contain himself. When he picked up his head, he growled with rage as he raised a shaking finger at the woman. “You,” he seethed. “You’re saying all the wrong things! Holy fuck, bitch, how fucking blind are you? Unbelievable!” He leered to the side as if shaking off part of his rage, only to add on, “Just…Just shut the fuck up!”

The sudden, scathing comments soured Mari's mien in seconds. “Wait, but babe—”

“No.” Naoya cut her off right there. “Don’t ‘babe’ or ‘baby’ me with your bullshit anymore. Can’t you fucking see the atrocities you have fucking committed in the last ten minutes? You’re literally ruining my life! Even Y/N wouldn’t be stupid enough to say all the crap you just said! I should’ve never approached a dumb whore like you.”

While Toji had his eyes widened from silent bewilderment, tears began to roll down the woman's cheeks.

“That’s a lie!” For what must be her first time, she had to face the reality that, despite all the pleasure and company she offered Naoya Zenin after his tough days at work, he was an egotistical sociopath and a married man. "That's not what you've been telling me. You know I’m the only person who can make you happy, not the actual whore whom you have at home! These last few months, you would’ve been absolutely miserable without me!”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a reminder,” she hissed harshly. “You had said so yourself.”

At this point, Naoya found himself in the middle of a living nightmare.

To think about his wife who had been avoiding him for days, to see his loathsome cousin watch the scene like this was some sort of Netflix episode, and now to witness his mistress ridiculing him like a fucking fool.

“God dammit!” he roared. With animosity overwhelming his sanity, Naoya—who was already on the verge of destruction—only saw red as he lurched forward. He used his arms to sweep everything, all things, anything he could reach from a nearby tabletop onto the floor: a ceramic vase that shattered into shards, magazines that flew in all directions, a framed photograph that clinked upon descent. He didn’t stop there. Like a mid-tantrum toddler, he kicked angrily at the mess, sending paper and broken pottery flying in all directions without much regret for his actions. 

In fact, this was cathartic for him. Because the very thing he wanted was to make his cousin's world wretched, just like how the latter had done to him. 

“I'm going to find Y/N and bring her back to me, but if either of you…” the blonde warned several moments later, regarding the therapist and the woman with a deathly fire burning in his auburn eyes, “if either of you do more shit to ruin my life in the meantime, I...I will make you regret.”

With that, Naoya stormed off in a huff, releasing all the profanities that have manifested his anger throughout his life. Mari followed soon after, chasing after him in sobs.

Finally, as for Toji, well, he...was stunned.

He blinked thrice in the same second, processing what he had just seen.

He drew in a deep breath...

...and he chuckled.

He knew he looked crazy, laughing to himself in an empty and currently deranged parlor. However, Toji had not felt this triumphant and optimistic in years. He saw a hopeful gleam for himself, for his family, for his colleagues, and for you.

He picked up his phone with a languid grin, scrolling through his contacts and sending over a quick text when he found your name: Guess what?

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: Throughout this fic, Toji and Naoya obviously have a very complicated and terse cousin-ship. For weeks and months, I have been thinking about how to orchestrate this scene, where we see them together for the first time...and with Mari too. Likes and reblogs are appreciated, and let me know in the comments how you all are doing!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @lazyassfinals @katkbc @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

[upat4amwiththemoon]

I’m not sure if you’re taking requests, but if you are…Reader is the child of Maya and Carina. R is feeling a bit neglected by their moms. Missing events, pulling crazy hours at work, not really being there for Reader. R tries to confront Maya and Carina, but they don’t know what to do about crazy schedules. They work really hard to make reader feel more secure and loved by them. If you’re not taking requests, then please ignore this.

Time management

Summary: Showing up matters.

Pairing: Marina x daughter!reader

Warnings: a pinch of angst

Word count: 2075

a/n: what do you mean some of these are based on my experiences?? You can’t prove that!

masterlists | guidelines

Y/N takes a few deep breaths as she waits for her turn in the backstage area. She’s going through her lines in her head, making sure she won’t forget anything once she steps on the small stage, even though this isn’t the opening night.

She has been part of a youth theatre group for over two years now, and this is the first time she has gotten the lead role. Her nerves are high, but so is her excitement. This is a big moment for her, she is proud of herself, and she really hopes her moms will be proud of her too.

As her costar finishes their line, Y/N rolls her shoulders back, straightens her posture, and walks out to the stage. She starts speaking her lines to the audience, not yet acknowledging the other actor on the stage, this is her character’s inner monologue.

Her eyes scan over the crowd of people as discreetly as possible. There isn’t one empty chair in the room. This play became fairly popular after getting a spot in the local newspaper. She showed the page to her moms, practically glowing with pride. Her face isn’t showing any changes, but her mind is turning blue. Her mothers aren’t here. It is the last show, and her mothers aren’t here.

Still, she continues on. And she does wonderfully. All the teens come up to the stage at the end and take a bow as they listen to the applause with wide smiles. Someone’s parent brought everyone flowers, and it makes Y/N bitter, but she smiles and thanks them, her grip tight on the bouquet.

After changing out of her costume and packing her things, Y/N walks back home. It’s only a fifteen minute walk, so she is unlocking the front door by no time.

“I’m home!” She yells out, shutting the door and throwing her keys on the table in the hallway. “Anybody here?” Kicking off her shoes, she walks deeper into the house, only to find it empty.

Y/N sighs and walks into her room. She should’ve expected this. Both of her moms have demanding jobs, they won’t be able to attend to all of her achievements..or any of them.

This is just how it is.

Y/N’s hand shakes as she holds onto a piece of paper. It’s already crumbled by her grip, but she makes sure the text in it is still readable. Her body continues moving slightly, either from nerves or the uncomfortable feeling of the hard plastic chair she is sitting on.

She lets out a quiet sigh. Her turn is coming up. Soon, she will have to get up in front of all her peers and their parents, and give a speech that she wrote. Of course, Y/N accepted this responsibility when her teacher came up to her and said they believe her to be the best person for the job. And who is Y/N to say no to that? An adult figure comes to her and gives her a compliment, basically telling her they’re proud of her. She craves that. She needs it.

A round of applause brings her back to the moment. The teacher in front of the microphone is looking at her with a smile on their face, they’re signaling it’s her turn next.

Taking a deep breath, she straightens her posture and listens to the teacher’s introduction of her. After it, she stands up and walks in front of the microphone, thanking them for this opportunity.

Her eyes glance over everyone in the room. She doesn’t see her moms, but Y/N doesn’t panic. They have to be in the back, maybe they got in late, she reminded them of this event too many times for them to not show up.

She unwraps her paper and places it on the stand. “Good morning, students and parents. I’m thankful to be up here today, especially when knowing my school days are minimal.” She smiles. “The last months of school are scary, I’m sure many of my peers agree, there’s so much uncertainty in change. What am I supposed to do after? Where do I go? Who am I?”

Y/N takes a deep breath, “I don’t know what I want to do with my future. The fear of not being or doing something great debilitates me, because wouldn’t it be a waste of a life if I never did something memorable.” Her eyes stay on the audience, only occasionally glancing down at her paper. She has memorized this speech. “My moms change lives everyday, one of them is a firefighter and the other is an OB-GYN, she literally brings new life into this world.” She giggles quietly, though her worries are growing by the minute. Her moms are nowhere to be seen.

“You’d think that with parents like that, my need to change the world would be bigger. But they’re actually the reason why they shrink every day. They tell me that life isn’t about doing something big and great that future generations will remember you for. It’s about love, friends, family, the goodness of your heart, it’s about making yourself proud.” Y/N turns the page around. “My mother Maya tells me to imagine being with little me and telling her about my life. Would she be happy? Would her eyes shine in wonder because she knows I haven’t forgotten her?”

Swallowing, her eyes cast down. She’s gripping the sides of the paper tighter now. Her moms aren’t here. “I would like to say yes. Because even though I haven’t always done the right thing, she would still hug me and tell me it’s okay, because I’m still me, no matter what. You know why?” She looks at the audience with a lopsided smile, “because even though I can’t always recognize my reflection in the mirror, my laugh is still the same horrible cackle I had as a kid.” There are some laughs in the audience, especially from her friends, who have heard her laugh before.

“So, change is scary and you’ll probably never figure out who you truly are. But that’s okay, the little kid you imagine sitting next to you knows, and they think you’re pretty great.” Y/N folds her paper and gives the audience a bright smile. “Thank you again for giving me this opportunity, I hope you all have a great day, and remember to stay true to yourself.” The audience starts clapping and Y/N walks back to her seat.

“That was awesome!” One of her friends whispers, holding her arm with so much excitement.

“My moms aren’t here.” Is the only thing Y/N whispers back.

“Oh shit,” her friend frowns, “I’m sorry.”

She shrugs and gives her a small smile. “It doesn’t matter.” With that, she turns back to the teacher who has gone back to the microphone.

It’s already two in the night and Y/N is still up. She is sitting on the couch, watching the television while she waits for her moms to come back home from work. They wouldn’t like her being awake this late, but she doesn’t care. She is angry, and sad, and she needs to yell to someone, preferably her moms.

The front door opens quietly after twenty minutes, it’s her moms trying to come in without waking up sleeping Y/N. Their steps sound slow and sluggish, but they’re still giggling together. Somehow it angers Y/N even more.

“What are you still doing up?” Maya is the first one to come to the living room, though Carina is right behind her. “Is everything okay?” She drops her bag down to the floor before sitting on the other couch.

“Where were you?”

Carina looks confused, “we were at work, mia cara.”

Y/N scoffs, “my school event was today.” She states, glaring at her mothers. “You know, the one where I held a speech that I wrote. I reminded you about it like a million times!”

“Oh, honey,” Maya sighs, “we told you we’d try to get out of work for it, but you know how our jobs are.” She looks genuinely remorseful, but none of that matters to Y/N at this moment.

“It doesn’t look like you tried hard enough. I first told you about it months ago! They couldn’t give you one day off with that much notice?”

“Do you think we wanted to miss it?”

“Well it sure looks like you didn’t care about it, or me for that matter.”

“Y/N-“

Carina tries to speak up, but Y/N doesn’t let her speak, “no! I do think you wanted to miss this, I think you’ve wanted to miss every single event I’m in. You know why?” Her brows are raised as she stands up. “I don’t remember what the last important event of mine was where you actually showed up. You’ve missed all of my plays, my school events, sports games, everything. You’re never there! Nor are you ever here. You guys never have time to talk to me, or, or help me with my homework.” Her speech is starting to get faster and tears are starting to gather in her eyes. “I doubt you even know what’s going on with my life anymore!”

Maya and Carina try to defend themselves, but nothing comes out of their mouths. Y/N is right. Even they can’t remember the last time they spent proper quality time with their daughter.

“So what’s your excuse, huh? You don’t care about me anymore? You don’t want me anymore?” She shrugs, sniffling quietly. “I’d rather know than wonder why my moms don’t make time for me anymore.”

The hurt and vulnerability in her voice breaks Maya and Carina’s heart. Their daughter should never have to doubt their love for her. “I’m so sorry, love.” Maya stands up, taking a few steps forward. “We’re both so sorry. We just- I guess we didn’t realize how much time we were spending at work.”

Carina stands up and pulls Y/N into an embrace, which she resist at first, but gives up and leans in right after. “I’m sorry, mia cara, I’m sorry. You’re my baby and I love you more than anything else in the world.” Carina whispers, tears falling down her cheeks. “You’re right, we haven’t been very good moms lately, but I promise you that will change, okay? We will do better.” She pulls away, setting her palms on both of Y/N’s cheeks to look at her face. She can’t stand seeing it with such a painful expression, especially one that she caused.

“You’re just saying that.” Y/N’s voice is more quiet now, her anger having turned to sadness.

“We’re not.” Maya states with a firm tone, setting her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “We will start taking days off work, you’re more important. Do you think you could hold your speech for us now?”

Y/N shakes her head, looking down. “I don’t think I want to, not today at least.”

“Okay,” Maya frowns but she understands, “some other day then.”

“Yeah,” biting the inside of her cheek, Y/N wipes the wetness off of her cheeks, “do you think I could sleep in your bed this night?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Carina wraps one of her arms around Y/N as the three of them start walking towards the master bedroom.

They change into their pajamas and do the rest of their evening routine in silence. Y/N is the first one to climb onto the bed, already getting under the covers while her mothers whisper in the bathroom. She’s already half asleep when they turn off the lights and limb onto the bed, sandwiching her.

Carina starts playing with Y/N’s hair while Maya wraps her arms around her. “We love you so so much, you know that, right?” Her voice is quiet, not wanting to disturb her.

“Usually,” Y/N’s eyes are already closed, “but sometimes I doubt it. I really love you guys too.” She whispers.

Maya tightens her hold at the words. They pain her, but she doesn’t have anyone else to blame but herself. “We’ll make sure to remind you everyday.” The two women kiss Y/N’s forehead, saying their goodnights when they notice their daughter’s tiredness.

In their heads, they both vow to make Y/N feel more loved and cared for than she ever has.

[lovelightwords]

The truth is that those negative beliefs we hold of ourselves do come from somewhere. Maybe someone told you you were unworthy, lazy, stupid, ugly, unloveable. Maybe someone made you feel that way by the way they mistreated you. Maybe you can't really remember anything bad, but you also can't remember moments anyone told you you actually are a beautiful person worth caring and fighting for. Maybe you've been ignored a lot. These are the reasons why you think negatively about yourself. Not because it would be true, because it's not, but because you've received this message in multiple ways, so many times.

But now you've become so wise already, you have the power to realize those messages weren't true. They were wrong because they didn't actually tell you anything truthful about you, only about the messenger. They were wrong because they reflected an incapacity for love and understanding of the other person.

So please be mindful of all the times those bad thoughts cross your mind. Those thoughts saying "I'm ugly, I will never get anywhere in life, I'm stupid, it's all my fault, nobody loves me". They aren't true. They aren't even your own thoughts. They are the messages you've had to hear and feel since you've been a child. You've had to hear those things so much that you started believing them. Because it must've been true if your parents said so, if adults said so, if your peers said so, if so many said so. But this isn't true. And I know you know this too. Deep down. Because it has always felt so unfair. So please trust that part of yourself. And shed those lies and illusions you've had to live in. Now you have the power to stop and undo this brainwashing.

[thegirlwhowrites642]

Ah thank you so much for your post on Harry's overprotectiveness and how it is deeply rooted in his fear of losing the only family he has by the end of the series not because he thinks Ginny is not capable enough

You spoke God's truth

But like seriously I have seen so many people pointing out the "problem" in Hinny and why they won't make it long term as a couple is that Harry after the war has to see Ginny as a peer not as something to be protected and that's why they are not equals... And I'm like what makes you think he doesn't see her as his equal?

Do I need to point out the number of times in HBP and DH whatever Ginny is doing Harry's reaction is a mix of "wowww my girl is doing amazing" and "OMG what is she doing, she might get herself killed and I'll die seeing just that, poor Voldy shorts would not have to put so much effort in killing me"

And I'm sure this has been pointed out before...A 15 year old Harry had a very similar reaction towards Sirius, a 30 something adult with 7 years of complete magical education, experience in fighting death eaters in Order of the Phoenix and then emotionally fighting the dementors for 12 long years.

You are welcome!

.

Harry in canon after he discovers Ginny is leading a rebellion:

This scant news made Harry want to see Ginny so badly it felt like a stomachache; but it also made him think of Ron again, and of Dumbledore, and of Hogwarts itself, which he missed nearly as much as his ex-girlfriend. - Chapter 15, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

What is true is that Harry hasn't properly processed how hurt Ginny was because he so desperately needed to believe she was safe that he would've needed to be slapped in the face with the reality, and in fact:

He spotted Ginny two tables away; she was sitting with her head on her mother’s shoulder: there would be time to talk later, hours and days and maybe years in which to talk. - Chapter 36, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

This does not mean Harry doesn't think that what Ginny did was valuable, important or a huge risk:

Harry found himself taking it out simply to stare at Ginny’s name in the girls’ dormitory, wondering whether the intensity with which he gazed at it might break into her sleep, that she would somehow know he was thinking about her, hoping that she was all right. - Chapter 16, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Harry is worried about her physical and mental well-being. But there's a difference between knowing someone is in danger/admiring them for what they are doing and being in the mental space to properly process the information of the love of your life being tortured (something that he would need to deduce from Neville's tale and he is not in the mental space to do it). It would happen once he talks with Ginny (I think Rowling should've created the situation for it once Harry talked with Neville but for reasons that have nothing to do with hinny and everything to do with the devastatingly boring plot of this book).

[I wrote about this in Back to the Eclipse if someone wants to read it.]

It's like when people say that Harry wouldn't tell Ginny things because he didn't let her in the Voldemort stuff completely ignoring that:

Dumbledore tells him to talk only with Ron and Hermione about it and he dies before Harry might start wondering why exactly he can't talk to Ginny about it and ask Albus (I would have loved to see the answer to that question)

Harry has a pathological need to protect her (which I agree is something he needs to work on but it is a direct consequence of how important she is to him and I'll argue it's a flaw that in a moderate dose balances out one of Ginny's)

Harry ends up telling Ginny his mission (killing Voldemort) anyway because he is shit at keeping things from her, as pointed out since the fifth book

Harry is so shit at keeping things from Ginny he has a hard time keeping things from Molly because she has Ginny's eye colour

When Ron gets hurt in HBP, Harry and Ginny get into an obsessive conversation about what might have happened (he is clearly comfortable in discussing important stuff with her, including his beloved mysteries)

His only plan for the future after the battle is endlessly talking with Ginny

The only thing people should deduce is that Ginny most likely spent a good part of her life being an insane security breach of the Department of Law Enforcement (to be fair to Harry: the majority of spouses of people in law enforcement are).

[comfortless]

He definitely has a complex about being considered middle aged. Me personally, I see him as one of those guys that tell you they're a couple of years younger than they actually are, in the beginning, cause be feels too old for someone younger and (in his mind) 'cooler' than him.

I feel like joining the army at such a young age must've made him feel like an adult way too soon, and maybe back then he must've felt superior like 'All the people my age only care about love and having fun, I'm way too mature for those silly things'. (Could be a copping mechanism to deal with the fact that he wasn't getting love anyway, and wasn't included in all the fun his peers were having. Rejecting those things altogether are a way to take back control and make himself feel better, he's too busy becoming a real man anyway). But now that he's older he does feel like he missed out on things, and regrets not being a silly teenager when it was acceptable and expected at that age.

He makes me think of that one Yves Olade quote that goes like "I thought so many things & never said a single one aloud. I choked on such longing I couldn’t spit out. Yes, desire is so different when God bore you hungry. I could have devoured anything and still have been starving." When you get no love from your parents is one thing (still hurts) but when you get cast out in other social circles also, it makes you feel bitter like nothing else on this earth. It creates this feeling that you're the one that it's being inadequate for even daring to want connections to other people and you begin to resent people and yourself for wanting to be around them. There's this shame that settles on top of your chest when you want love but you feel like that's the cause of all your suffering in the first place, like you're doing it to yourself. This reminds me of another quote : "in front of my mother and my sisters, i pretend love is cheap and vulgar. i act like it's a sin- i pretend that love is for women on a dark path. but at night i dream of a love so heavy it makes my spine throb- i dream up a lover who makes love like he is separating salt from water." (Salma Deera, "salt"). I feel like this might apply to younger Konig, when convinced himself that love is for weak man to protect his poor heart. But now that he's older and has the money, the position and the body of a real man he needs to get a taste (just a small one, just once) of what he had missed out on in his youth. He finally feels deserving enough to attempt to have real intimacy with someone, not just quick hookups that leave him more hungry.

FEEL FREE TO NOT ANSWER THIS I'm just in a silly mood and had to psychoanalyse my babygirl real quick. Also, sorry for my English =))

how could i possibly just leave this in my inbox, anon?! this is all so correct…

thank god he wears that hood, because even on the field the sun isn’t hitting him too much - (he thinks) he can pass for early thirties. not that any lady who takes an interest in him is really considering his age much anyway, it’s always the shy “how tall did you say you were, again?”s or “what is your real name?”s that are telltale signs of interest. they ogle his build, the accomplishments he will prattle on about given the chance, the haunted look in his eyes and the strange lilt to his voice, the scars and lines only make him look cooler. if only that wasn’t such a rare treat.

he’s just in his head about things always. he missed out on the sweet, awkward dates: the mutual rush of adrenaline from holding someone’s hand for the first time, sneaky pecks in the schoolyard, passing notes and calling throughout the night. he never got to experience having his parents drop him off at the theater to take some girl from class out or… hell, even getting to go with a friend who wasn’t gossiping behind his back. König’s never gotten to live like any other, normal person, he’s been denied that since being birthed into a world that did not want him as much as he did not want it.

so, of course he’s bitter. he’s horribly bitter even now when things have finally started to fall into place for him. he’s got a stature even Adonis would be nervous around, a savings account so stocked he isn’t even sure what to do with the money, an impressive title, his own place, a car, and some of the soldiers even consider him a friend. he gets invited out every now and then, doesn’t mind downing jäger and listening to his men talk about their current affairs: what women they’re seeing, or how their children are, where they plan to go on leave. he takes to living vicariously through them. he even finds it fit to lie, pulls up a picture of some random woman every now and then to boast about how he made her come undone on his bed last leave with a stupid laugh. the truth is that no, last leave he bought a nice fleshlight, took a thirteen hour depression nap, maybe went on a long hike and had a film marathon on his own.

having a woman show him any interest immediately activates some self-destructive behavior: he’ll hound her (screw double texting, it’s moreso in the dozens. little “miss you”s and stupid accusations he immediately wishes he hadn’t sent), either withdraw into himself if he even feels slightly abandoned or become even more intense and clingy. no one’s ever loved him, not properly, so how is he supposed to know how? if his own parents hated him, then who is going to have the patience and understanding to teach him? his approaches are almost childish, the way he goes from boyish and giddy to closed off and pitiful. /: and the self-loathing only amplifies during these times, because my god he should be more disciplined than this by now. all that being said, i do think he would settle and be as well-behaved as a neglected bull could be if he feels his affection is being reciprocated. he just needs time (and a good therapist).

squealing at the poetry and how much thought you’ve put into this message. <3

Yves Olade is sooo good to quote from for him! i think that “You can have my heart if you have the stomach to take it. Kiss me hard enough to invert me.” suits him just as well, especially when it comes to the trepidation and fear amidst the sparks of him finally, truly having someone be selfless and loving with him.

König in love is a very special topic to me!! there are so many different ways this rabid dog could take to handling it and by and by he always seems to choose the most aggressive / uncanny approach, held back by a leash that no one’s ever thought to untie, constantly growling and leaping at anything that gets too close just to simmer down to whimpering and begging the second he’s pet just once!!

[argumentativeaxolotl]

Hey hey hey nerds I’m back at it again with some more CARS HUMAN AU HEADCANONS‼️‼️‼️ THIS TIME ITS ANGST 👹👹👹

Lightning McQueen:

- Bro 101% brushes off any concern he has for himself and uses all of that concern and worry that he’d use for himself on other people and his friends. He doesn’t think he really deserves to be cared after and looked after especially with how much of a dick he used to be- hence why he doesn’t care about himself as much anymore(still enough to keep up with his hotshot facade but if there’s actual danger or someone’s actually hurt he’ll ignore himself in favor of that person).

- I feel like this dumbass is an absolute MAGNET for trouble. Like even as a kid. Lil bro would get into trouble and somehow get hurt while being in a rubber room with rats. Him getting hurt all the time likely exasperated all the families that fostered him which would lead to him getting scolded by some of the… rougher families which led to Lightning being very reserved about himself, going back to the first headcanon above this one. He thinks he’s not worth the attention.

- Lightning was on his own as soon as he got to his Freshman year, this being his last foster family. They were pieces of shit and sort of treated him like he wasn’t there or that he was the cause of all their issues. This caused Lightning to lash out more than normal which is when he sort of came up with the persona of Lightning McQueen(the branding came from Harv later down the line). It was like a last line of defense which ended up helping him only for a little while(then radiator springs happened and blah blah blah).

- He was so used to being treated like shit that Harv’s horrendous treatment of him wasn’t a red flag until Mack came into the picture and stood up for him a few times, the truck driver telling Harv to piss off.

Chick Hicks:

- He never finished his education. In my AU I think Chick would have been forced into racing at a young age by his father after his brother’s death. Chick’s father would be so obsessed with one of his kids becoming a great racer, essentially living through that child, that he wouldn’t give two shits in what Chick or his brother would want to do. Chick’s father likely brought Chick to a bunch of races as a kid which led to him missing many many classes and falling behind his peers. This happened in seventh-eighth grade which led to Chick never going to Highschool as he became the next up and coming racer.

- His father was a pile of absolute, burning, human shit. The man would hurt both of his kids- physically and emotionally- while also sort of putting all his own traumas into his kids, living through them and making Chick into him. Young Chick would likely want to make his father proud and would constantly try to adhere to his father’s words and whatever the man said- examples being shit like “crashing is a part of racing” or “give them a little nudge out of the way” or some shit which would lead Chick into the madman we know today.

- His brother was the only positive “adult” figure in his life and his brother tried his damndest to get Chick to not be like their shitty father, yet the brother just wasn’t around long enough. Chick was absolutely fucking devastated when his brother died and didn’t respond to any outside stimuli for at least a week or two. Their father mourned before moving on and suddenly acknowledging Chick, acting like he was his only son.

- Chick is 100% still haunted by the dying light in his brother’s eyes, having watched him die after a horrific crash. Chick never wanted to push cars out of his way, having seeing what it did to his brother, yet something in Chick wouldn’t let him fight against his father’s shitty teachings. Chick can remember every detail of that day and sometimes wishes it was him instead.

Strip Weathers:

- One time when Cal got severely sick, like bedridden for a week sick, Strip got horrific flashbacks to when his mother passed away due to a terminal illness. Strip was so scared and terrified that he spent so much money on doctors alone. Lynda tried to calm him down, telling Strip that it was just a nasty case of the flu or something along those lines, but Strip just couldn’t lose another family member- especially not one he saw as his son.

- Strip wanted to be a doctor so he could help his mother with her illness and so he could try to find a cure so nobody else had to go through what she did. He put in so much effort and tried so hard, conducting research and studying hard so he could become a doctor. Then his mother passed away when he was still in med school, leaving him shattered and blaming himself for somehow not graduating faster. Tex was there for Strip.

- He dropped out of med school in favor of racing since he didn’t think he would be able to continue after his mother passed. He felt useless for a long time, drinking his pain away for a few years- never during a race- until he met Lynda and she helped bring him back to himself.

- After his crash during the tie breaker, he’s felt immense pain in his wrists and shoulders and neither he nor the doctors know why. It’s not killing him but it lingers and sometimes he just can’t move for a while.

Doc Hudson:

- Doc has a similar thing to Strip where after his crash he just had horrendous pain shooting all throughout his limbs and back. He’s not sure what it is, but either way it’s thankfully lessened over the years, now being dull aches or more joint pain than usual whenever it gets colder.

- Sometimes he���ll randomly have a flashback to when he was back in the Hornet or being wheeled to the hospital during/after the crash. Doc never really got over it and stupidly never saw a therapist about this. These flashes often make him feel worse than he already does, leaving him in a shitty mood and grumpy and more than a little scared to get into the Hornet. Over the years, these flashes have gotten less and less to the point where it’s once or twice every couple years at random.

- Him becoming an actual doctor wasn’t because he had so much time on his hands after the crash- also that was part of it- but it was because that was his sister’s dying dream- to become a doctor and help people.

- His older sister passed away sometime before Doc’s crash so when he was still young. She was much older than him- roughly ten-ish year age gap. They were still close.

Thank you for your time lmao now it’s time for me to disappear for like three months again <3 HAPPY HALLOWEEN‼️‼️‼️

[baby-xemnas]

I love so much that “Bepo is Law’s weakness” is arguably canon. It’s not “Law’s weakness is cute things” like some ppl in fandom try to say since Law is pretty visibly unaffected by Chopper, little kids, all the standard “cute things” in OP. It’s literally just Bepo and his cuteness that has an effect on Law, and we see it in reaction to Bepo going “🥺” when Bepo was sick, letting Bepo hug him all the time, taking Bepo to Uta concert only bc he knows Bepo wants to go, etc. LawBepo is such a perfect ship, massively underrated ship frfr 🩷🩷🩷🩷

there is this very good compilation pic from @/daily_trafalgar on twitter with a caption "law's reaction to cute things"

you mean barely a reaction

and then there is Bepo

Bepo is special he is spoiled and coddled and can do anything he wants with barely a word from Law. i do think Law is good with kids but Bepo is a grown man - his best friend

and as much as some lawbepo non-shippers want to see them as parent and child -you dont see someone YOU grew up with. YOU were children at the same time with - and grew up alongside each other as a CHILD. You just don't see them as that, it's nonsense. Yes he is like law's little brother but not a child

(i call him Law's baby like 20 times a day but that's in a way that a cute girlfriend is "baby")

Saying all this to say that "oh Law is weak to Bepo's cuteness because he is like Law's baby" (implying child) or even worse = when people call him a pet They grew up together - 4 year difference is forgotten about -you are peers - yes of course Bepo is both subordinate and looks up to Law as an stronger smarter leader etc. but thats not a parental dynamic at all.

its a very serious, rational and collected guy and his favorite guy who he spoils in big and little ways and have been spoiling him their whole lives...

i love that Law saved Bepo from getting his ass beat and dying alone and brought him home and they just stayed in that dynamic their whole life and both became adults but this "Bepo is precious and weak af and i love him" pretty much didn't change.

and Bepo is so comfortable with it. novel was Law focused so it never gave Bepo an "I'LL TO PROVE MYSELF TO YOU THAT YOU DONT HAVE TO PROTECT ME ALL THE TIME I CAN HOLD MY OWN" arc - and that would make sense for his character if there was time/desire to focus on him but because of those constraints Bepo bypassed that and i kinda love it? (you can call it another of many copes of mine idc) but him NOT having a standart "little brother" arc is awesome, Bepo is very comfortable in his role and when he speaks its always

"I'll do my best for you and help where i can because you are so amazing" there is zero of his own ego. He is comfortable in his "lower rank" role, he doesn't strive to be Law's equal he knows he can't be! Law san is the greatest!!

Law is happy with it too because he is a protector in nature (look at his bigass crew ;-;♥) so bepo being HAPPY to be protected makes him happy too. It makes Law feel strong and good, it plays on his ego in a positive way being looked up to and sought out as a protector - yes it's pressure (that Bepo does his best to elevate) but it's not negative and Law takes it happily, it's good to feel needed. And it all started with Bepo and they preserved that - Law is always strong and cool leader and protector and Bepo is always UUUU CAPTAIN 🥺😭🥺😭🥺😭

they are the best and i love them so much it's such a special dynamic and it makes Law's character so much better

[whinlatter]

What about the dynamic between Ron and Ginny? I don’t see too many people talk about them other than the one time he tried to sl*t shame her.

this is a lovely one, thank you so much anon. the two baby weasleys. two beloved bruisers who will squabble til the cows come home but who would absolutely take bullets for each other in a heart beat... it's the loves of my life, ron and ginny weasley.

the dynamic between ron and ginny is, as you say, deeply misunderstood, deeply underrated and, ultimately, deeply loving. the ron haters will say ron's a misogynistic slut shamer towards his sister: the ginny haters (these are, i fear, much more numerous...) will say that ginny is a nasty bully towards her big brother, the family/molly's favourite who basks in greater limelight and parental love than poor tormented ronnie. i think that says more about fandom's inability to a) remember we are talking about children/teenagers, b) remember that tripping your brother to humble him when he's being openly horny about his future in sister in law is praxis, and c) grasp that conflict between characters does not preclude the presence of real love, care and mutual respect in their relationship. ron and ginny's dynamic is interesting because it brings out each characters' insecurities and flaws (for ron, his anxieties about his reputation among his own peers and his position within his own family, his worry about his family's wider reputation and wellbeing, his particular overbearing concern about ginny's safety post CoS; for ginny, her resentment of being overprotected, her inability to stomach hypocrisy and tendency to fly off the handle when confronted with it, her righteous temper in general...) but i think if the characters were, er, real, and you were able to show them the fandom takes/discourse around their relationship they'd be like, er, what? obviously we love each other to death. we're very very close. we're mates who enjoy each other's company and increasingly hang out a ton and treasure each other as dearly beloved family, what are you on about? like, yes, of course they bicker. of course they fight. but those two, in their core, are good. i think as adults they'd be closer still.

(there's been a horrid fanon tendency in the last few years to make a lot of hay out of the idea that molly desperately wanted a daughter and mistreated ron, her sixth son, as a result. this is an allegation that seems to have its sole canon basis in what the horcrux screams at ron ('least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter'). looking past the fact that the horcrux is, er, expressing ron's fears not reality (in its next breath claims hermione is .... in love with harry lads! tiktok fandom discourse do not like to remember this!), i think it's very important that even if this is ron's fear - that his mum loves him less than his siblings and only had him because she was trying to have a girl - it doesn't actually ever inform any resentment or jealousy towards ginny by ron. ron and ginny fight, of course, they do, but ron never makes this apparent anxiety ginny's problem. ginny could be someone ron bitterly resents, someone his mother and, by 1997, his best friend prefers. but he doesn't ever do that. ron just really loves his sister and wants her to be safe, and yeah, sometimes that pisses her off, but it doesn't come from a place of envy or resentment, which, given ron has oodles of that in other relationships, is saying something.)

my favourite ron and ginny moments:

in CoS when ron's desperate to see ginny get sorted and then gutted that he missed it :(

in CoS when ron teases ginny sweetly about her crush on harry but as soon as malfoy does it is ready to commit bodily harm

in PoA when ginny's suffering with the dementors and she goes looking for ron (even though the last thing he told her was to go away, lmao. just sibling things. fuck off and die! but also i would give you both my kidneys)

in GoF where ginny really is trying not to laugh at ron for asking out fleur when that is plainly fucking funny

in OotP when ron gets one singular look at michael corner and decides he is NOT good enough for his sister and also probably a traitor

in HBP when ron and ginny are at war with each other but ginny names her pygmy puff after him and as soon as ron is poisoned ginny is the first person on the scene (with hermione) and does up poirot with harry trying to solve the mystery of her beloved brother's assassination attempt. he will be avenged!

in DH when the catalyst for the ron/harry fight escalating and ron leaving is the moment ron accuses harry of not caring enough about ginny........ king shit sorry!

bonus in DH when ron's like yeah ofc i didn't go home are you mad. fred and george would have been fuming. and ginny, my moral weather vane, would have run me through with the rustiest of pikes

thank you for humouring me with this ask game anon!

[voidnoidoid]

Donald Na Character Analysis: Undefeated Emperor

I genuinely thought I posted this analysis on tumblr already months ago... but apparently I didn't? Or maybe I did. I don't know anymore. This was written before the webtoon's completion so keep that in mind. If you've seen this already then oops read it again. If not, enjoy! MAJOR WEAK HERO SPOILERS AHEAD. (24/6/2024)

After reading the conclusion of the Eunjang v Union fight, I had some thoughts about who Donald is, why he became the way he is now, and more thoughts about how the fight ended and his parallels with Gray. Apologies if this becomes rambly im just writing off the top of my head. To begin with, 

Who Is Donald?

From the very beginning of Weak Hero, Donald Na has been set up as the big bad, the final boss, the overarching antagonist. He is the sole mastermind behind the Union, controlling it from above in his luxurious office, only descending to force rebellion back in line much like he did with Ben and Myles. He was established as cruel, cunning, intelligent and menacing; but most important of all: untouchable. 

Time and time again we see Donald's sheer strength forcing even the most powerful of fighters into submission. He's both the brains and the brawn, with incredible charisma to boot. He's the sovereign ruler of the Yeungdeungpo region. It's clear he hasn't seen a real challenge in some time. Until the final fight, us readers have never seen Donald so much as break a sweat, even in his (one sided) fight against Changhui Han. 

He's got everything planned out, nothing seems to phase him and he is adaptable to any plan, seeing as he worked around all the setbacks Eunjang threw at him. 

However, Donald's many layers have been peeled back, allowing us to glimpse moments of a troubled childhood that explain why Donald is the undefeatable monster he is now. 

Why Is Donald?

Based on the short flashbacks of Donald's childhood, (as of right now more fleshed out episodes are being released but I haven't caught up yet) he grew up in poverty with an abusive father and sickly mother. He is seen wearing tattered clothes and was gaunt and scrawny. Another was of his getting his school reports scattered on the ground, meaning he was bullied by his peers despite being one of the top scorers in his class or the entire school. At one point he was driven to desperation and broke into a bakery just to eat. This explains why he likes eating bread so much. 

Donald grew up with nothing. No money, no respect, no friends, no food, not even a loving family. Despite trying the best he could in school, he could never be equals with anyone, in fact the seem to look down on him more for doing so well whilst not having financial stability. Because he grew up with nothing, he strove to obtain everything. 

Donald went from dressing in rags, to wearing branded goods from head to toe. He went from having no support system, to creating an army of thugs to serve under him: The Union. He went from being powerless, to having an entire region under his thumb, manipulating everyone from kids to adult business owners. No longer was he the scrawny little boy but now a powerful, cunning, imposing presence. 

It was all calculated. In a recent episode, Donald himself mentioned that he did everything he could to not only look the part, but play the part of big bad mastermind. He got tattoos all over his body to seem more intimidating, he beat down every enemy to strike fear in them, he created a steady source of income to keep his goons loyal, not just by threat of violence but also money. 

To me, Donald seems like someone who tried desperately to reach the top so that nobody could ever hurt him again. And he succeeded, at what cost? 

Is It Lonely On the Top? Eunjang vs The Union

Now that he's gotten everything he wanted, did it make him happy? Perhaps it did, perhaps it didn't. With almost everything under his thumb, it is only natural that Donald craved a challenge, whether unconsciously or not. Hence, when Eunjang high started making a move, it became new motivation for Donald to keep going. 

Of course, Donald already had plans with his many businesses but Eunjang proved to be a source of amusement, then annoyance, then rising to be a legitimate threat. As Eunjang toppled more of Donald's executives and cemented itself as a group to be taken seriously, Donald's empire began to crumble. With one single variable, many of Donald's plans had a wrench thrown in them. He grew complacent at his spot in the top. Long he had gone without a worthy challenger that he took his power for granted. Little did he know, Ben was building up strength to face him head on once more, together with a certain white mamba. 

Not everything could be under Donald's control. Case in point: the Eugene Incident. Because of one careless mistake from one of the company shareholders who approved Eugene's design without thinking, the flaws in the companies Donald had a stake in were exposed and a large portion of profits went down the drain. To make matters worse, he sent Dongha out only to capture Eugene and bring the boy to him, but Dongha ended up beating him to a pulp and facing the wrath of Gray Yeon, escalating the incident further and provoking Ben's wrath even more for real. The Eugene Incident was the catalyst for the big war between the Union and Eunjang. 

All this time, the Union had been weakening. Wolf and Philip turned tail and sided with Eunjang for their personal reasons, and Jake wanted to resign from the Union for good. Donald was losing more and more manpower. This escalated into the massive Union v Eunjang war to end all gang wars. However, this was all a backdrop for Donald's main fight: between Ben Park. Leader vs Leader. However yet again, Donald would not get what he wanted, all because of one of his closest allies: Kingsley Kwan. 

Kingsley is a curious character who's only been shown as Donald's right hand and most trusted confidant. His backstory has yet to been revealed but clearly, he is very important to Donald and only has his best interests at heart. Kingsley is the closest thing Donald has to a friend. Yet, Kingsley unintentionally betrayed Donald by kidnapping Ben Park, taking away the fight Donald wanted most. Donald lost trust in his closest companion, and lost the chance for a fair fight with the one person he thought had a chance of taking him down.

This brings into account what Jake said at the end of the big fight: that deep down, Donald wanted to be defeated. Donald wanted someone to challenge him, to fight against his tyranny and show him the taste of failure. On the surface, it would seem that Donald only wanted to fight Ben just to crush him and show everyone who's boss, but I believe that deep down, Donald really wanted this to all end. His motives are unknown thus far but I think it has something to do with Gray. 

To tie up this (kinda disjointed) section, Donald's newfound power and domination only isolated him from forming any meaningful connection with others. His desire for defeat and victory conflicted with each other, but I think he only realised what he truly wanted when he finally fought with Gray. 

Donald Na vs Gray Yeon: Two Sides of the Same Coin

These two are shown to have interesting parallels with each other, going so far back as to have Jake comment on the similarities between them. 

Both Donald and Gray are shown to have a lust for power and love for the thrill of fighting. Donald fights to cement himself as the strongest, and Gray fights to teach bullies a lesson, and to protect those he cares about. Gray slowly develops a dark bloodlust, which he hones as his deadly precise and calculated fighting strategy. Donald let his bloodlust consume him in his rise to power and control. 

They are also similar in their intelligence, planning and problem solving skills. Both make plans and like it when events happen according to predictions. Donald makes lengthy schemes and manipulates people behinds the scenes, getting angry when things don't go according to plan. Gray only fights when he is certain he will win, with the exception of his Wolf beatdown. Gray analyses his opponents and "studies up" so he can have every advantage to beat them, making up for his lack of physical strength. Donald relies on his superior strength and cunning to carry him through fights, to which he has become complacent but he can adapt on the fly too. 

The two have also battled in their academic prowess, duelling each other in creating and solving math problems. Usually, the questions are formulated by Donald, and Gray comes up with solutions to solve them. Notably, the questions set by Donald are complex and mind boggling, but Gray comes up with a creative and straightforward way of solving them. This implies that since they have a similar way of thinking, Gray could easily see a path through the problem. Or on the other hand, Gray is more innovative, creating a new way of problem solving that even surprised Donald. This battle of intellect has been Donald's way of getting to know Gray. Donald's statement at his final math problem was "this is the last time we play together, white mamba." Implying that all this time, Donald was toying with and testing Gray's capability, yet also enjoying the mental exercise and anticipating their in-person meeting. 

Personally, I think that the key difference between Gray and Donald is the presence of a Stephen. Or... Friends. Gray's backstory shows that before Stephen came into his life, he was just drifting. An empty shell that kept searching for something, anything to fill the void in his heart. Gray lacked a purpose, endlessly consuming random knowledge and "studying like an idiot." Stephen was a welcome friend, a light in Gray's darkness, and became the purpose for Gray to keep living. Stephen became Gray's catalyst to change the world around him and stop standing by. Since Stephen made an effort to change his surroundings for the better, Gray decided to do the same, albeit in a more violent, cold manner. 

Both Gray and Donald are connected by the concept of "absence" or "lacking". While Gray wasn't financially struggling, his parents weren't around and he didn't have friends. He lacked emotional connection with others, and lacked a purpose for living, thus creating that empty void within him. Gray became motivated by friendship to create a better environment for himself and his friends. Donald on the other hand lacked safety, security and power, so this became his personal purpose to rise above everyone and have the control he lacked as a child. However, he lacked FRIENDS, those other people he could count on emotionally. 

Gray made new friends who he cares about and who care about him, but Donald sits atop a lonely throne, having nobody but himself he could fully depend on, since everyone around him disappointed him in one way or another. He has no equal, not even Kingsley. That was who Donald was looking for: a friend, an equal. 

Donald made this realisation during his fight against Gray, who repeatedly outsmarted him using cunning tricks, who was the only one brave enough to take him on aside from Ben, and who was the other contender who pushed him to the brink. Ben made Donald realise the fear of losing, but Gray made him realise what he was chasing after this whole time. He thinks to himself, near the end of the fight that in another life, if things played out differently, could he and Gray have been friends? This means that Gray is the one he finally saw as equal to him, the one he wanted to befriend. He found someone who could potentially understand him, but circumstances pit them against each other. And when he beat Gray, any hope of potential connection was shattered.

Donald's Defeat: Last Man Standing

Technically, Donald won the fight against Ben and Gray, and against Eunjang. On paper, this is a huge win for the Union. Logically, this would mean that Donald could further his conquest and rise even higher on the chain of power. However... this ended up being the Union's loss overall. Donald wanted someone to beat him, he wanted someone to take him down a peg, he wanted a true equal in strength, character, ideals, which Ben and Gray had combined. (Ben's sheer power and Gray's character) But after Donald won, there wasn't any point in going on. He knew he was the strongest, but he wanted to be proven wrong. Now there is no chance of anyone who could take him down anymore. 

The Union was just a means to an end, a method of accruing more power and wealth, all of which has lost its meaning for Donald. Hence Donald essentially put the Union on hold. His unrivalled might is still evident as he beat the piss out of Myles Joo and his cronies while severely injured. But mentally, he's destroyed. He's lost his purpose and meaning and snapped. 

So what does he do? He tries again by seeking out Gray. In a semi-crazed delusion he calls out to Gray from below an overhead bridge for them to fight again. Only then could he relive that sense of connection and rekindle the hope of defeat. Gray and the eunjang gang are understandably shocked... but Donald is too fascinated with Gray to care. He just wants to fight again, to understand Gray even more. 

Then he got hit by a truck (Donald isekai when?). The only thing that could take down Donald wasn't even a person but a whole vehicle. 

In the end, Eunjang lost the fight but won the war, as Donald became demoralised and shut down Union activity. Donald lost, as he lost what he desired most (friendship) and whatever he still had didn't mean anything anymore. He was someone who lost himself in dark ambition, and deep inside wanted someone to save him from his endless spiral of violence that he trapped himself within as its kingpin. 

[aleksanderscult]

Analyzing "Demon in the Wood" (book) - Part 5

(Part 1, part 2, part 3 and part 4)

(TW: self-harm!, suicide!)

Did you think I had forgotten about this meta?

ABSOLUTELY NOT

I was just dealing with a small health issue and before that I didn't have the motivation.

But now my meta-analyzing-self has returned with the fifth and last part of the book.

This is the passage from the book that actually made me think "What if Aleksander himself started sleeping less and less as an adult?". He "adopted" so many things from Baghra. It's possible that he did this too. Sleeping very few hours at night and always ready to leap at the first sign of danger.

Also, not Eryk not wanting to get smacked from his mom if she catches him. 😭

“It’s not enough.” His voice made me jump. The Darkling emerged from the shadows onto the lamplit path.

He really can startle people with his silent movements.

And the fact that he has been trained by hunters!

So he has learned from hunters, seers, Kings, Saints. Through all these four hundred years he gained an enormous amount of knowledge. (I would honestly sit and listen to his experiences for free)

HE'S TOO CUTE I JUST--

He really preferred to get interrogated by his mother for his wet clothes than get naked in front of a girl. 😭🫶

We went from this "He felt too shy to remove everything."

To this "His hand slid down to my hip. I felt a little trill of panic as my skirt slid higher and his fingers closed on my bare thigh."

They grow up so fast. 🥹🥹

It's that beautiful realization that he acts like a kid that makes me happy. All giggling and smiling while playing and swimming. This is the life he was supposed to live and he knows it.

He's so happy and hopeful that he starts making plans! 😭

He just wants to stay somewhere.

The Darkling never hated the otkazat'sya. It wasn't hate he felt but (overtime) he just only came to know their nature.

Eryk really liked Sylvi and thought her a good company to have her around.

He was aware of the way men looked at his mother.

I'm sorry but I find this line kind of awkward. It may only be just me. But little Aleksander seeing men giving lustful looks to Baghra is a little awkward. Like, man, not in front of her son. 😭

It was one more weapon in her arsenal.

Actually an anon once sent me an ask saying that the Darkling was promiscuous on his earlier days out of his need for touch and to gain information.

At that time I said that I doubted it since he had other means to gain information (through his spies, his natural charisma etc.) but @stromuprisahat discussed this in the comments and now I agree with her that Aleksander would sleep with someone to gain information. And, in the end, it was this line that fully convinced me. Just like I've said previously, Aleksander mimics his mother in almost everything. He just copies her behavior and patterns. And that's one more pattern that he must have copied. If he didn't have any other choice and was desperate (also it would depend on the person he had in front of him) Aleksander would go in "flirt mode" to get what he wants. Seduction was one weapon out of the hundreds in his arsenal, ready to be used if necessary.

Well hello socially awkward Aleksander.

That might be my hot take for him I think. Aleksander Morozova was actually socially awkward in sensitive matters (this moment right here, revealing to Ulla that they're siblings, his first kiss with Alina).

He was never raised in a stable home, never had healthy friendships and was raised by his mother very strictly and to value power over love. So whatever compassion he had as a person, he had it out of his own character. He was born with it and not nurtured to feel it or have it.

He doesn't know if this question about her mother is appropriate because he normally doesn't have conversations with peers and hasn't learned to.

It's a very sad but true fact about his character.

Eryk: "Thanks mom for nothing I guess".

I don't think people realize how cut off Aleksander was from literally everyone. And it was Baghra that cut him off. Not one single word about his father like she created him by herself or something.

(Now I also remembered how Alina was the only other person Aleksander could bond and be with since she was immortal too but Baghra took that from him as well. That woman really said "You'll have no one but me")

now I'm angry

He really really tries.

I've analyzed this moment a bit here but basically Aleksander was very awkward with others showing a vulnerable side. He isn't used to being close with others since he constantly travels, so here he does his best to comfort Annika as she lays bare her thoughts and feelings. He wants to let her know that her father didn't fail but did his best to protect his remaining family.

Hell nah!! 😭😭

Not my boy being protective over his new friend 😭😭

He only knows her for a few hours and he feels already close to her.

This shatters my heart because he doesn't want to believe the truth. He doesn't want to face it in the beginning. He's like "Oh. Maybe we're playing". He doesn't want to know that his friend has turned against him.

*tears up*

Can you hear me crying in the background? 🙂

He was so ready to protect her against a boy taller and stronger than him. Because they're friends. Friends are supposed to stick together.

*I'm ready to cry*

He's still in denial. 😭

And seeing the difference between this young Aleksander to his older version. The young one being naive, innocent and weak because he lets his emotions get the better of him. While the older one never begged for anything (at least directly), shed that side of him and still died because he still wanted things.

THE STRATEGIC BABY GRISHA IS HERE!!

He cleared his head and started thinking of ways to get out. And what better way of escaping than making Annika and Lev fight each other?

I personally think he said that line for two reasons:

He wanted Lev to know what he is in order to make him come over, break the ice and even stop Annika so he could buy himself some time and escape.

It's very interesting that he said "you won't be able to push her or her sister around anymore". He could have said "When Annika wears my bone she'll be more powerful than you" but he brought up Annika's vulnerable position and that shows that he understands why Annika does this.

But still he won't sit and let her finish the job.

His determination is the one quality that admire in him the most.

Take this moment for example. Someone just hit his head with a rock and he focuses on staying awake and alive. He doesn't allow his own body to take him down.

And here the same thing happens:

He's ready to vomit and pass out but he just forces his body to do more, to escape and survive. He never lets anything deter him from what he wants. And apparently it was Baghra that made him this way too:

She nurtured his strong will and over the years he became a driven, focused and determined person. And it were these qualities that kept him alive all those centuries.

When Alina left him behind on the Fold he survived and kept going.

When Sturmhond left him with a broken ship, a wounded arm and in the middle of nowhere, he survived and kept going.

When Alina betrayed him and brought a building down on his face, he survived, took the throne and rose again.

When his mother committed suicide, he cleared his head and continued his war.

When he came back from the dead, he still continued the march towards his ambition.

Literally nothing could stop him. Even "when he wasn't so sure he wanted to go on" he put his one foot in front of the other and set his eyes towards his dream. Whether that was to provide the Grisha a safe home, or the Ravkans a safe country or himself a companion to have. Or all of it together.

It was enough to make him less a boy than a prize.

A sad existence to live. Especially in your childhood. Your own people seeing you as a trophy to have, to wear and use than a human with a life of his own.

He revealed his gift to Annika when he showed kindness to her and now he pays the price.

His relationship with his mother is one of the most (if not the most) pivotal aspects of his character. Her words and teachings have been implanted deep inside him and can hear her often in his mind (just like he did in RoW).

Did he also hear her voice whenever he was close to dying in his adulthood?

He lashed out of fury, desperation and sadness for everything that happened that day. Just when he thought he had it all, fate came and took them out of his hands along with his hope.

Let me make a mark on this world before I leave it.

He succeeded in that. The Little Palace is the greatest proof and people talked about him long after he was gone (and they'll continue to do so).

As a child he saw how Grisha came and went from this world without "touching" anything. He didn't want the same thing to happen to him. He wanted to make something.

(Also the fact that he dropped that iconic, serious line at the age of thirteen. The Darkling at thirteen "I want to make something grand before I die". Me at thirteen: *watching Shakira clips and failing school like nobody's business* 😭😭)

I don't think most of us understand that Aleksander literally self-harmed himself to survive and save his mother's life as well. Used his own power against him to make sure that they won't be burned alive for what he did.

For the Ulle to be so sure that nothing would happen at their camp makes me think that they were being established successfully there for a long time. But that surety and protection faded because of his own people who are so desperate to gain power in order to survive. It's not a matter of selfishness. I don't see it that way. But it's a matter of survival especially since the Grisha are a group of persecuted people that are hunted down for their powers, feared and shunned.

Whether you believe it or not, I've seen people say that Aleksander didn't regret the fact that he was responsible for the burning of that village.

*screaming in frustration*

So. I'll repeat that it wasn't an act of selfishness but a matter of survival. It's not a black and white situation. If Aleksander had said the truth he would be executed alongside his mother for what he did. And the other Grisha wouldn't hesitate to do it since they already feared Baghra. And what people fear, they destroy.

Aleksander opted to cut his leg deep with his own powers, lose unconsciousness and tell a fake story to save his mother and leave from that settlement in one piece. But he didn't take pleasure from it. He wasn't glad when Lev and Annika died and felt sorry for their parents and their reaction. And now he feels sorry for the burning of the village. He knew they were innocent and he supposed they were going to interrogate them or something. But kill all of them? That he neither expected or wanted.

Look. I think Baghra loved her son. But let's be honest. If he wasn't so powerful, if he wasn't immortal he would cast him away the same way she did with his siblings. Sooo....yeah. It's a toxic kind of love. She loves him for what he can offer her (companionship mostly) so it's not an unconditional love. She mostly wanted to keep him safe because, if he died, she would be left with no one.

Bardugo in a podcast called her "a horrible, horrible mother" and she is. But I still find her a fascinating character that I can't get enough of for some reason. I don't like her but I find her interesting.

Honestly, me neither. Annika was not my favorite character in this story but I don't hate her for trying to kill him. She wanted to protect her family and their position in the camp. It's a bleak world for the Grisha and they have to "eat" each other to survive.

Aleksander really said: "I will make my people matter. I'll make them touch this world and make themselves known. We will be seen".

All the Grisha characters that were trained in the Little Palace owe their reputation to the Darkling. Alina would never know who she was and, even if she did, she would waste because she would be unable to use her powers without someone to guide her. Zoya would never achieve that reputation.

Grisha would just continue to live in caves and hidden establishments. Afraid to go out and show their powers to strangers.

By S&B the Grisha were still despised but there was a minority that held them in awe. But that did nothing to change the situation. Now they are seen but used by the Crown. It was the only place they could have in the kingdom.

It rose from the trees surrounding it like something carved from an enchanted forest, a cluster of dark wood walls and golden domes. As we drew closer, I saw that every inch of it was covered in intricate carvings of birds and flowers, twisting vines, and magical beasts.

“Welcome to the Little Palace,” said the Darkling.

He did it. The crazy son of a bitch did it. 🥹🥹

He managed to create a safe home for them. Made sure for them to be surrounded by other people like them, sitting in front of a warm hearth, in unity not in conflict with each other. Somewhere to rest their heads under the gorgeous carvings of vines and birds. A place to practice their powers freely and eat luxuriously. Somewhere to come back to, like all of us do when we want to go home. Somewhere to belong and somewhere to stay.

(fuck you Tolya for what you said in that duology. Fuck you and everyone who talks shit about Aleksander's greatest accomplishment)

That was the end of the book and I absolutely loved that story. I need 20 more novellas like this from the perspective of the Darkling from his earlier adventures. I'll analyze the Graphic Novel next.

[thelesbianpoirot]

Hi, I was wondering if you have any advice for intentionally seeking out female friends in a male dominated space? I didn’t used to have male friends but now I’m often in a space where men are overwhelmingly the majority, I’m on decent terms with the men (especially because they seek me out socially so I’ll often get sucked into conversation with them) but sometimes they will make off colour jokes, or they’re just annoying. I realize if I don’t make a conscious effort to befriend the women, I’ll probably never *naturally* become friends with them, just because we have less in common. Problem is, I’m a little intimidated because they’re more accomplished and worried I might come off too strong, or seem like I’m trying too hard cause I’ve previously done that in the past…

Yes, you have to actively try to make female friends, especially if you are an adult and don't have school to forcibly group you together with other women. Whatever you are feeling, many women feel the same way, they are also anxious and intimidated. Someone has to make the first step to ending all your internal yearning for female company. You should want a peer group of women who are accomplished, who you admire. You should try to befriend women who motivate you to step up your game, professionally, academically etc. 1. Simplest way to do this is ask for help, someone helping you resolve a problem often gets you guys talking and may lead to an offer for further assistance. 2. Compliment their actions or something about them you admire. Try not to get too personal and avoid appearances, unless it is hair or clothes or something changeable. "Where do you get that? it looks lovely." "You're always so put together?" "You work so fast. Any advice for how I can speed up my time?" 3. Seek out common interest. "Sorry for bothering you, but I overheard you saying you went on a hiking trip, I was just talking to my sister about getting into hiking do you recommend any common trails. I am kind of scared to go out alone, but I need to try." "is that sticker on your water sticker on your water bottle from that band/tv show/game?"

4. Be cool, accept rejection or them ignoring you if you try any of the steps and they don't work. Respond when they do, don't hound them, ask someone once, check up on them once more after a week or so as passed, then if they won't return your energy, then back off, be polite, but don't have expectations or demands of them. BE COOL! Act like you aren't dying for their text. Go around your day as if normal. It is an energy you are putting out into the world, and waiting for resonance with someone.

5. Outright form a club and organize a get together. This is a pretty big one, but I met my best friend because she had an anime club in college, she would project anime movies and tv shows in the study room, and I showed up and we had the most in common. It has been ten years. She did it because she was lonely and she shoots her shot in a big way. Ask the women one on one if they are interested in a monthly get together for the women in your department, job, field etc. You just think this is good way to form important relationships and look out for younger, newer employees, if you're the new one, say it is to make friends and learn the organization culture. 6. Special Secret Tip: Bring a Basket or Tray of treats, and only offer them to ONLY the women. If you bake do it, if not store bought is fine, keep em in the package so they know it wasn't tampered with, and literally walk up to susan in accounting and ask her if she wants a cookie. If she asks what's the occasion, straight up answer: I don't think I know enough women around here, and I thought this is a good way to start. Hi i'm janet from engineering. Women love treats!

[menlove]

the thing about growing up too fast is that so many people think fondly on their childhood as a time they got to rely on other people and be carefree. but when you were parentified & abused in a poor family, that's just genuinely never a thing. and it's actually like. super depressing & demeaning to know that you've been the only one there for yourself your entire life and that has never changed. like you learned the lesson of "I'm the only one I can rely on to get me out of shit" by the time you were old enough to think

so by the time you're an adult and you do now have to pay your own bills and do your own chores and deal w your own adult life, that's a struggle your peers are just getting used to & can sometimes find exciting and new and doable. but when you've been doing that Forever it's kind of just like

Okay. and when is it my turn to lean on someone? to let someone take the reigns and not have to think? and the answer is, of course, never. because you're an adult Forever now & you didn't get the chance to rely on others as a kid and you're far too responsible Now to stop and let go of responsibilities like some of your peers

heinous

[captainjacklyn]

Making my first DOL post today..random game I got into, it's so easy to get invested.

So here is my PC, don't be fooled- that's a boy he just likes his hair long cause an someone told him it looked nice.

Kinda felt like giving him a small description, how he views most of the LIs and other characters, maybe him as a person idk this really feels like a shitpost. I only recommend the game if you aren't a minor and have a strong ass stomach cause I almost vomited the first time.

!!TW!! mentions of SA, blood, gore, violence, human experiments, death, abuse (both mentally and physically), psychopathic behavior, murder, mutation, stalking, if I missed any other triggers please inform me immediately so that I may fix my mistakes. If any of these topics make you uncomfortable, I advise you to please ignore this post and find something else more suitable. !!TW!!

Degrees of Lewdity :

APPEARANCE :

The slender young man slowly stares back at you and returns your greeting. "Oh..it's you." his name is Elias, he's a resident at the local orphanage, he won't talk back if you try anything. Just avoid taking off his gloves unless he allows it.

PROFILE/MAIN INFORMATION :

Species - human, any hybrid Occupation - student Affiliation - orphanage, oxford street school Age - 18 years old Height - 178 cm Birthday - 04th of April Gender - male (can morph his system into changing sexe so female too) Marital Status - Dating Sydney, Avery's side hoe Zodiac Sign - Aries Best Subject - English, History Interests - Cross dressing, sunbathing, napping, gardening, makeup

PERSONALITY :

Elias is an unfazed and blunt yet somewhat gentle young adult who quietly cares for others from afar. At first glance, many would think that he only speaks up when others wish to converse with him, even then his answers are short with little depth. Though it is stated that his confidence becomes much more evident once he gets comfortable, Elias can tease his peers and act playful. Furthermore, he will occasionally invite friends to spend some time with him. Whether it be taking a nap together, walking along the beach shore or reading in the library. He can crave company and has no shame in asking for someone's attention.

Not only so, but angering/provoking Elias is a feat itself, he usually avoids confrontation by walking away and even when things get out of hand, the young man will still struggle for the sake of running off. Though reaching a certain state of insanity, he looses all control of reason and will attack the offender without limit. This livid persona gives him an animalistic instinct to kill, relentlessly harming the individual(s) who previously caused his senses to go a-wire. The way he does this can get more gruesome depending on the previously inflicted physical or mental wounds on Elias, from forcing himself on them to tearing their skin open and eventually creating a gash deadly enough to give them a slow painful end. He stops at nothing until he's satisfied with how much suffering his abuser lives through.

InGameAU/Canon

Note - The statements above is largely different to how he canonically behaves. I have a knack for 'book accurate' vs 'show representation' and wanted a similar concept for my character.

In the game itself, Elias is much less of a victim and instead finds himself to be in constant control (I've been wary of any nonconsensual interactions, making a save before every choice that could lead to gr*pe or getting..y'know v*red). He is manipulative, defiant and easily angered. Belittling any passerby who leaves him a crude remark, regarding his more manipulative tendencies, this does result in him being a bit of a player.

One ↦ Robin can only have a specific percentage of confidence, preferably leaning towards a hundred but never fully. There is the excessive guilt-trip technique, Elias takes care of him from time to time and the moment Robin says something that could waver the white haired boy's sense of control he half scolds him by reminding Robin of everything he does just for him.

Two ↦ Sydney's purity = max level at all times. He doesn't want to deal with the possibility of having a bratty little *sshole follow him around everywhere for s*x. Especially not if the church proceeds to act up along with his corrupted state. The two of them are dating in game, Elias mainly uses him for protection at school, status wise at least. Due to Elias' line of work and desperate need to pay off Bailey, my PC cheats on Sydney practically everyday, having intercourse with multiple NPCs who offer a good price in exchange for his body as well as acting as Avery's sugar baby.

Despite this, he does care, I promise that he does. But his way of thinking would be similar to Alicent Hightower from House of The Dragon. He isn't narcissistic and has never once acted that way, however Elias is heavily twisted by loneliness abandonment issues go brr, anxiety and peer pressure (e.g robin getting punished for not paying his rent, Bailey possibly selling him off to the farm, etc..). This causes him to appear collected and normal at one moment and then unexpectedly go nuts.

BACKGROUND :

Elias' past follows most of the in-game's PC backstory, he was raised in the orphanage by Bailey and supposedly lived within that town his whole childhood. Another NPC who is only present in Elias' story is Monika, an older sister-like figure who was also raised in the orphanage but soon adopted and taken away. She is said to have learned to read rather quickly and many youngsters would come to her for stories, including Robin. Monika was especially close to Elias, treating him like he was a blood relative than just another inhabitant, their bond grew strong as years passed and her depart created a rather detrimental impact on Elias. Who closed in on himself and ceased to socialize, a partial root to his present conduct.

However, there is a darker side to his story. This would also explain the truth behind his gloved hands which he hates uncovering at all cost, as well as his existence alone. Elias wasn't conceived naturally, instead he was created inside an artificial womb manufactured by a non-governmental laboratory which was currently exploring the nature of hybrids (e.g beings such as the Black Wolf or Great Hawk). A group of scientist took a step further, planning a project which was yet to be approved by their employer, and decided to combine several varieties of animal DNA along with human ones. Their goal was to revolutionize the science of genetic research. Unfortunately, the team was found out and reported to their boss, who visioned Elias' birth as a horrific mistake exhibiting complete disrespect to the laws of nature. The people who had fabricated the unnatural child were instantly discarded from further company work.

Up until that point, the infant mainly looked human and acted as such. So the executive ordered for the toddler to be dropped off at an orphanage and forgotten.

TRIVIA/BONUS FACTS :

Elias is rather fashionable, he sometimes goes into the supermarket to try on a set of clothes before leaving without purchasing a single item. (the art is in the savings)

It is stated by several NPCs that he has a bad habit of staring, this is actually due to him daydreaming/spacing out whilst looking ahead unconsciously.

His favorite drink is lemonade and favorite dessert is lemon tart, anything that has to do with lemons is usually enjoyed by Elias.

When adapting to an environment, his hands are the first to metamorphose. They also connect to his emotions/primal instincts, circumstances like these are what drove Elias to hide them.

His screams sound like a mix of Caraxes and Syrax, his sounds are more guttural than actual cries.

CREDITS FOR PICREW :

#1; #2; #3; #4; #5; #6; #7; #8; #9