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heartsforhavik · 1 month

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superfan! yandere oc x popstar! reader (yandere alphabet)

warnings: a little nsfw, mentions of murder and violence, kidnapping, breaking and entering, stalking, depression, masochistic yandere, kinda worshipper yandere, some mentions of "offing" himself, mentions of death and starvation, established relationship, lowercase intended, not proofread, reader is gender neutral, i do not condone yanderes irl.

a/n: i was gonna do a request but uhhh i felt lazy. i'll make an alphabet for victor next cuz i feel bad for not writing him. plus i'm gonna try to make a masterlist soon so yippee! (also i apologize to all my non-yandere-enjoying followers that like my mortal kombat works, i'll get back to those someday. i just look back on my old works and cringe. i really dislike all my stuff from 2023.)

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

bayani loves you with all his heart. he is often overbearing and obsessive, treating you like you're the only thing that matters. he is always fussing over you and making sure you're okay. he constantly asks you how your day has been, if you've eaten yet, if there's anything he can do for you, etc. he is your little servant. please make him feel useful. please let him help you. his only purpose is to entertain and satisfy you in any way he can. whether you want him to cuddle and kiss you often, or you want him to cook and clean for you, whatever you want. he doesn't have a particular love language. even if he did, he would change it to cater to your taste.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

bayani believes violence is not the answer. he does not want to hurt anyone. but if it's for your safety, or if you order him to hurt or even kill someone, he would reluctantly do it. as much as he denounces violence, he cannot find it in his heart to disobey you. even if it is someone he knows, he'll do it for you. because if you think they should be dead, then you must be correct. bayani believes you can do no wrong, so he must act on your orders.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

bayani would not abduct you. he would never do anything that would hurt your feelings. as much as he gets off on being physically tortured and verbally berated by you, he cannot imagine a world where you dislike him or hate him in any way. he would never kidnap you. besides, even if he wanted to kidnap you, his apartment is too shitty to keep you there, and he wants you to live a life of luxury.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

bayani would absolutely not do anything against your will. he is nothing but your servant, and your fan. he does anything you want him to. he could never go against your will.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

bayani is yours. he has put his whole heart out for you ever since he first saw you. from being your biggest fan, to stalker, to boyfriend. since day one he has been (mostly) open and vulnerable.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

bayani would absolutely be turned on by your rage. kick him, spit on him, etc... the bulge in his pants would just grow harder and harder. however, as much as he enjoys being used as your personal punching bag, he doesn't want you to hate him. if you hated him, he might as well throw himself off a cliff. why should he live if you don't accept him? if he's not enough for you? he dedicated his life to following everything you did as a popstar, to dating you and doing everything you asked him to. so if you ended up hating him after everything he did for you, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

it is not a game to bayani, not one bit. i can't see him kidnapping you at all, but if he did it would probably be for your safety. he would hate to see you so sad and desperate to leave. he'd try to give you whatever food or gifts you ask for, to distract you from trying to escape. it's for your own good, please don't cry and scream at him.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

as much as bayani respects you, he often forgets your boundaries. he would break into your bedroom and watch you sleep, steal your clothes, or watch you while you shower. no matter how many times you try to tell him you're uncomfortable with his behavior and wish to have some alone time, he'd always claim that he would "respect you from now on" but the next day he'd go back to his perverted ways.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

bayani is hoping to get married and live happily ever after with you. he doesn't see himself having kids, he'd prefer to keep all his time and attention on you for the rest of his life. as much as he supports your career and music, a part of him hopes you retire early so you can give him more attention. but if you want to keep up your career for a few more decades, that's okay with him too. whatever makes you happy, makes him happy.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

bayani rarely gets jealous. but when he does, it's concerning. when he sees you hug or compliment a fan, he understands it's not romantic. he doesn't really care about it at all. however, if he sees a fellow popstar being a little too close to you or flirting with you, he immediately worries about himself. what if you leave him? he isn't attractive, or talented, or rich. you could easily leave him for a fellow popstar. bayani wouldn't blame you at all, or the popstar flirting with you. he only ends up looking in the mirror and picking himself apart for hours, wondering why you decided to date him. after that, he ends up being even more clingy than he was. he is basically glued to your hip, and doing everything you ask of him. he compliments you more and tries to make himself seem more energetic and loving. he even looks up ways to make himself more desirable to you, and trying out obscure skin care routines and putting lifts in his shoes. he tries to make himself better for you so you wouldn't leave him.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

bayani's basically a dog at your beck and call. he sits near you with hearts in his eyes, ready to tend to your needs. he usually talks to you nonstop, yapping about something he saw on the internet you might like or a bug he saw on the sidewalk. of course he'd stop if you ask him to, but he's just so nervous around you! even after you start dating and he's no longer just a superfan, his little crush on you never fades away. he covers up his anxieties by talking about anything and everything. if you were to engage in his little yapping sessions, or even laugh at his jokes or agree with his opinions, he'd get extremely flustered and shy. he'd try his best to hide it, but his tomato red face would give it away.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

bayani wouldn't even try to ask you out. he thinks of himself as nothing but a broke, ugly, stalker guy in love with you and your career. he thinks you're way out of his league. you would have to be the one to notice him and strike up a conversation. even then, he'd evaporate the moment you lay your eyes on him. but the more you notice him at your shows and interact with him, you'd become friends and then you'd have to be the one to confess to him.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

bayani's true colors aren't too different from how he acts with others. he's truly a perverted, shy, stalker. his whole life, even in childhood, he was always shy and never really talked to anyone. he didn't have any friends, wasn't in any clubs and didn't go to a church of any sort, so he was always alone. of course, nobody knows he's a perverted stalker, but it's easy to tell he doesn't speak to anyone but you.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

bayani would never punish you. he thinks you can do no wrong. whether you simply lashed out at someone, or committed a crime, he would always be on your side. even if you were to lash out at him, he'd accept it. he would never blame you, only himself.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

bayani would never harm you in any way because of how much he loves and worships you. he'd never take anything away from you.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

bayani would do anything for you, so of course he'd be very patient with you.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

bayani would not be able to live without you. if you left him, he would understand, but be heartbroken. but if you died, he would immediately lock himself in his apartment and refuse to eat or drink anything, and soon succumb to his own death. a life without you is a life he cannot live.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

bayani, again, would not kidnap you. if he did, i can imagine he would feel severely guilty about it. he hates seeing you in pain. if you're in pain, so is he. he would let you go as soon as he knows it's safe for you. hell, he'd want you to be free more than you do.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

like i mentioned before, bayani had a very lonely childhood. his parents weren't present, he had no friends or siblings, so he was left all alone. even when he graduated highschool and was left to live alone with a shitty job, he was still antisocial and had quite a dull life for a few years. that's how he discovered you. he never knew what it was like to love or be loved until he saw you and heard your music for the first time. your performances were a safe place to him. your lyrics were like a warm hug to him. you saved him from his miserable life. he started dedicating his life to you since you were the first person he truly cared about.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

bayani hates to see you in pain. he wishes he could take it all away for you. that's why he's so attentive to your needs, in hopes that he'll never have to see you cry or hear your screams in pain.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

unlike the classic, stereotypical yandere, bayani does not want to inflict harm on anyone unless he has to, and he's a lot clumsier than a usual yandere. he does not want to kill or hurt anyone, but if you really wanted him to, he would. but there's no guarantee that it'll go well, considering how clumsy he is. but he's trying, for you!

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

bayani is a worshipper, through and through. you want to leave him? just tell him. he'd be heartbroken, and probably beg you not to leave him, but ultimately he wants you to be happy. however, if he ever kidnapped you, you could escape by distracting him. you could point somewhere in the distance and go "look over there!" and he'd look for a couple seconds, then look back at you- and aw shucks you already ran away

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

bayani. would. never. even. dream. of. hurting. you.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

bayani would literally commit war crimes for you if you asked him to. there is nothing he wouldn't do for you. he sees you as a hero that saved him, so he believes he should return the favor by doing anything for you. anything to keep you happy.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

after being your biggest fan and stalker for years, bayani is content with staying that way for the rest of his life. of course he would love to be yours, but he would be happy with simply watching you from afar for as long as he shall live. he would never snap.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

depends on your sanity, and how much you like bayani. if you're okay with his clingy, clumsy, yapping self for the rest of your life, then you'll be fine. but if you'd get sick of never having a lot of alone time, or having a guy that is attached to your hip... then maybe you'd break and he would be incredibly guilty. he would try to apologize by being even closer to you, which would make you feel worse. unless you end things with him, you're stuck forever.

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ilylovelyz · 1 month

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⍣ ೋ fool(s) in love

˚ · . bakugou katsuki x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ no real warnings, just bakugou daydreaming abt y/n, slight possessiveness on baku's part, mentions of sexual activity, a bit angsty ?, based off "fools in love" by inara george, mentions of pregnancy and marriage

everything you do, everywhere you go now, everything you touch, everything you feel, everything you see, everything you know now, everything you do, you do it for your baby love

fools in love. are there any different kind of lovers?

fools in love, bringing all sorts of feelings, bringing such joy—yet a devasting amount of pain for no reason.

bakugou thinks this as he scrolls mindlessly on his phone, his fingers pressing on your icons and pages.

his red eyes stare at your most recent pictures and stories, checking if you've sent any new messages to him, but there are no new ones because it's 4AM and you're dead asleep and he's here out patrolling. he stalks your page like a stranger, looking at all your highlights and comment sections of your posts, wanting to see for any recent activity. he goes through your followers, not even caring to check your following because you don't even follow people back like that. he scoffs at the new followers, men.

he exits out of the app, instead opening up his phone gallery. he does this without thinking, he's been doing this for awhile. to be specifc, for a couple of years, maybe around the time you and him got serious as a couple.

his mind subconsciously wanders to the memories he has of you, replaying those precious yet idiotic moments over and over. he lets out a sudden chuckle when he thinks of the time you slipped cartoonishly on a banana peel—the banana peel he purposely placed on the floor because he didn't actually think you were dumb enough to slip on it.

but you did—you slipped on it. and then you cried. cried like a baby, and the memory just has bakugou trying to hold back his laughter in order to not seem like a crazy person. looking around, he resumes his daydreaming.

how unusual it is for him to daydream. yeah—he has dreams and aspirations—ones that revolve around him as the world's #1 hero and being beating that dork deku. but what he's dreaming of now has him thinking long and hard.

the corners of his lips twitch up into a soft smile, his red eyes gleaming at the thought of you. the thought of maybe the relationship he has with you going on for longer than what is now. the relationship, growing and growing—just like you and him, reaching important milestones. milestones so important, like having your legal first sip of alcohol with him, buying a house together—or even something way more serious and commiting than that, like marriage.

like seeing you grin and cry tears of happiness when he pops the big question. or a year later, seeing you in a big white poofy dress, similar to a princess dress—because you certainly act like one. and seeing you walk down the aisle to him, all blushed and nervous like how you easily are. his tongue peeks out to lick his lips when he imagines him kissing you as his bride, finally making you his wife.

then there are the years of marriage. the first year, the repeated honeymoon stage, where you'll be sticking to him like glue, waiting in the living room from his return from a long day at work and practically pouncing on him because you missed him so much. the stage where neither of you will be able to keep your hands off each other, kisses and touches fervent and desperate for the other.

then the second year, when you'll be kicking him out of bed and throwing the TV remote at his head when he refuses to order you food at 12AM. maybe this year, or the next, with last year's effort, you'll end up pregnant with your first child, his child. preferably a girl, one that has your cute face but certainly not your bratty tendencies.

then the next years will pass in a blur, maybe you'll bear him another brat or two, giving him the family he secretly wants. you'll be the mother of his children, the matching pepper shaker to his salt shaker. you'll grow old with him, becoming more cranky and argumentative with him about which show to watch. he'll call you a grandma, a old hag, then he'll begin reading signs and posters for you when your eyesight is so shitty after your constant years of nights of being on your phone at full brightness in the dark.

then he'll finally retire and buy the two of you a nice home, preferably near a beach as you'd love. the two of you will spend the rest of your life there, still arguing about what to have for dinner and then go to sleep with your nails caressing the skin of his spine.

when it's that time, before he's too old to make sensible decisions, he'll write out instructions to whoever will take care of you when he leaves. he'll be the one to die first, he doesn't like the idea of living without you. he'll make sure to write in bold letters that you don't like tomatoes or onions, and that you need to be reminded to drink at least two cups of water a day because you're forgetful like that.

he'll buy the two of you shared graves, matching caskets. of course he leaves your side of the grave blank, you'll live on to live without him for many more years despite your horrible diet consisting mainly of soda and candy.

you'll pass away in your sleep, painless and unaware, warm and tucked in the bed you used to share with him. then, you'll join him in the afterlife, slapping and hitting him for leaving you "so early".

bakugou's eyes reopen to his supervisor bidding him farewell, telling him his shift is open and go home and rest. he makes his way home, cussing out the train station workers when his train is delayed by 5 minutes.

when he gets finally gets home, he sets down the teddy bear he bought you on your side of the bed, careful to not awake you. he strips himself of his hero suit, debating whether or not to sleep and then take a shower later, or to take a shower now and then sleep.

you answer for him, sitting up from the bed to sleepily wrap your arms around the small of his waist, the same waist you were cussing him out over due to jealousy. you pull him onto the bed, mumbling little "i miss you"s while also damning him to hell for working so late.

you ignore the fact he smells like shit, that he's dirty and needs to take a shower. instead, you glide your pedicured nails that he paid for over the exposed skin of his shoulders, making their way up his nape then to his hair. he practically purrs at the goosebumps that rise on his skin, his eyes fluttering shut with the way you're lulling him to sleep against his will like you always do.

as he gives in to the heavy weight of sleep, his mind comes back to that wonderful dream he had. though, it goes away once he does fall asleep. he doesn't mind, after all, you're both still young and barely 20. you two have many years ahead, and hopefully, you'll be spending those years with him.

please repost with tags :)

#bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou katsuki angst #bakugou x reader smut #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou smut #my hero academia fluff #my hero academia angst #my hero academia smut #my hero academia x reader #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero acedamia

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fev3rish · 3 months

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THREE ISN’T A CROWD. ami wakita x reader x kenji sato (2.7k words)

In which Ami and Kenji find a piece of their hearts in you.

warnings. reader is a college graduate (23ish), emi appears only briefly in this and doesn’t interact with reader. i finished this in one day and barely proofread it. notes. no one: me, ( @victoirey ) after returning to tumblr after almost a year in hiatus, with a new alias and a new account: hey y'all...

but really i do hope y'all enjoy this little comeback!! I watched Ultraman completely sleep deprived, so i’m real sorry if there are any errors !! YOU HAVE ALL NEGLECTED AMI WAKITA TOO MUCH. I am taking my seat as the first person to ever post an x reader that included her 🙏 reblogs appreciated more than likes! let me know what you think!

it starts with Kenji & Ami. The tension between them is too strong to cover up as just friendly, and against his better judgment, Kenji can be a weak, weak man. Ami is as beautiful as she is elegant and kind. she’s also irresistible. So, Kenji asks her out on a date.

They go together well. Ami is a caring girlfriend, & Kenji, although a busybody—is a sweetheart to her. Their relationship is stable for the most part, and while Kenji does have trouble communicating, Ami is everlastingly patient.

five months into their relationship, Ami meets you.

You are just stepping into the real world, having graduated college a month ago and starting things off slowly. She remembers you, you interned at the company she worked for. You had done well—and they had requested to have you work full-time.

You were as competent as she expected; having been asked to take you under her wing until you were skilled enough to become a senior journalist like she was, she threw you into the career mercilessly. Maybe it was on purpose, maybe it wasn’t—but Ami had good intentions. She had expectations for you.

You exceeded them.

When Ami first took you under her wing, she expected you to have a hard time adjusting. You did, make no mistake, but not for long. It seems you just naturally coordinated well with her—it kind of pissed her off. You were so good at your job, and you were both such a good team. She can only imagine how much better you’d be once you finally became a senior journalist.

“Ms. Ami?” She jolted in her seat. Her eyes scanned around the room for who called, and her eyes landed on you. Ah, yes. That’s right, she’d asked you to fetch some of the papers she printed from the printing room a couple of minutes ago. She smiled kindly, welcoming you in.

“Your papers.” “Thank you.”

As you handed her papers over, Ami’s eyes landed on your hands. She didn’t know what came over her. She shook your hands the first time she met you, she’s given you high fives before, so why did it feel different now? Why was there a spark so suddenly?

—And as she indulged in her own selfish desires, letting her hand caress yours as you handed her the papers, why did she want it to last longer? You left the room, smiling at her one last time. Her eyes creased as she smiled back, but you never had the chance to see it. She wishes you did. Would you have reacted to it? Why did she care so much? Ami gulped nervously.

This was a problem. Ami’s growing feelings were a big, big problem. You had her wrapped around your finger, and you didn’t even know. Kenji was clueless. Ami wanted to keep it that way; she loved Kenji the same way she always did after all: infinitely.

Polyamory wasn’t new to her, but it also was. She’s known of it, she’s known how it worked, courtesy of a boring day, free will, and Google—she didn’t know she would actually be considering getting into it!

It gnawed at her, and she refused to get into it with anyone. Even her darling boyfriend, who noticed, and asked about it. Ami shut down any attempt to ask what was wrong with a newly discovered fire, saying that she wasn’t ready to talk about it. She wasn’t.

Besides, Kenji had a scheduled interview with you in two hours! He had better things to worry about.

Kenji was used to reporters trying to get his attention.

That’s how he met his love, Ami. She wormed her way into his heart and showed him what balance meant, and unknowingly, she also helped him with Emi. He owed Ami more than she knew, and he was planning on paying that debt in full—hopefully, she would accept payment in love.

Kenji is head over heels for his girl by the time you enter the picture, and he sits down with you for an interview.

It was an idea Ami put into your head, and you set to work—shyly asking the woman if she could schedule you for an interview with the athlete. You wanted to exceed your own expectations for yourself, and you thought that a face-to-face interview with a (truthfully, intimidating) athlete would get you there. Ami grinned once you opened up to her about it, and she agreed.

So now, here you were.

twiddling your thumbs and clicking your pen, you waited for the famous Kenji Sato to arrive at the table you had reserved. You didn’t know when you started spacing out, but when you snapped back in—he was already in front of you, awaiting your next move. The pen you clicked was gripped with such fervor as you tried to collect yourself, sheer shock filling your veins because how could you just space out like that—

“You’re going to interview me, yeah?” The star had asked, and you swallowed the blockage in your throat, flustered. “Yes, yes, Mr. Sato—“ You blurted out, obviously unprepared.

Kenji would never admit it, but he thought it was cute. It was really, really cute. You could say your own embarrassment charmed him, with how he spoke to you in response. His tone was calm, soft; friendly. “Hey, hey—loosen up, it’s all good. It’s nice to meet you.”

Your mouth went dry. He only smiled even more, and before you knew it—as if his inner peace was contagious, you breathed in and out. Then, you smiled back. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Sato.” You had replied, “I take it Ms. Ami has filled you in on me, yes?” He nodded, and that’s where it all truly began.

You had cracked a joke, and he cracked up. You had asked such deep questions, ones that made it seem like you weren’t trying to garner answers from the Baseball Star Kenji Sato, but rather from just Kenji Sato himself. It was refreshing. His posture slouched as he joked around with you, and it was then he realized why Ami and you seemed to get along so well. You were…for lack of a better word, you were pleasant to be around.

Kenji only got closer to you. It seemed like you were everywhere he & Ami were, and wherever you were—you indulged in nice little conversations. Most of the time, he really only planned on saying hi—and most of the time, he and his girl just caved and started gossiping with you for a good thirty minutes.

Ami & Kenji had shared their personal numbers with you by the fifth time you three ran into each other, and eventually, you started hanging out outside of your own professions. Informal hangouts, at the most spontaneous of places. Kenji & Ami, who had recently revealed they were dating you—basically adopted you. Think of it like the “mama y papa” audio, but it’s you recording—and the other two are being mama and papa.

Of course, fate works in confusing ways. You ended up in a conflicting situation.

You noticed things you didn’t even notice about yourself, like how Kenji’s smile was a bit lopsided when he laughed but only around you two, or how Ami’s eyes sparkled most whenever you were hanging out in the local cinema and the light landed on her just right.

Your love for them did not hit you like a truck. It was like you knew. It was a pat on your shoulder, just to catch your attention. It did.

It gnawed at you like it did Ami.

Kenji, unlike the two of you, was positively clueless to the point that it was almost cute, as irritating as it was. He didn’t know he felt some type of way about you, he just thought the blush that formed in his cheeks was because of the fact Ami was near, not because you laughed so shamelessly and so prettily at a joke he came up with.

He loved Ami a lot, almost to the point it suffocated him, and he still did when he started feeling that same way about you. That’s when he realized. He realized that maybe, he liked you; but he was so confused. He had Ami, and he felt the same way about her, so why did he feel the same way about you?

It was then a thought went into his head. He likes Ami, and she has a suite reserved for her in his heart—but what if that suite was built for two?

Fortunately, when that thought comes into his head, Ami enters his bedroom and finally asks him to talk.

Unfortunately, it is one of the rare situations Ami doesn’t know how to begin, and Kenji is an amateur communicator.

“So.” Ami clicked her tongue. “So?” Kenji tilted his head, resting his chin on his closed fist as he sat on the edge of his bed— Ami right next to him, although the woman could not even look in his direction. Ami poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue, uncharacteristically unsure. She sighed and then started. “Them.”

Them.

You. Ami meant you. Kenji knew that from the get-go, it was always you, you, you. You were their soft spot, as much as they were each other’s soft spot. And you didn’t even know.

“What about them?” Kenji replied. Ami sucked in a breath and placed her hand over Kenji’s own. “I… I want—“ Ami stammered, scared; how would Kenji react? “I want to love them. I want them as much as I wanted to love, and still want to love, you.” Ami whispered. Kenji looked at his Ami, and he sighed, but it wasn’t in disbelief. No, instead, he was relieved. He looked at Ami and responded, “Me too.”

“Si- What? Since when?” The woman stammered. “Since they laughed at my joke that one time last month when we hung out at the festival.” He replied, not facing her but smiling nonetheless. “How about you?” He inquired.

“Since they delivered the papers I asked them to pick them up from the printing room,” Ami replied, still shocked. Kenji just laughed, sprawling himself out on the bed. Ami looked down on him, “Do you… Have you heard of polyamorous relationships? Of throuples?”

“Of course I have. It wasn’t really a common sight back in America, but it also wasn’t rare to just look at a group of people and go, ‘Oh, they definitely have group cuddles at night.’ “ Kenji laughed, and Ami scoffed.

“…Well, do you wanna try it out?” She bit her lip, trying to test the waters. “With them, I mean.” Kenji looked at Ami, then at the ceiling. Then, back at Ami—and back to the ceiling. “Well, fuck.” He groaned,but Ami could hear the crack of a smile. “It wouldn’t hurt, right?”

Ami shook her head. “I don’t think so. Not if it’s them.”

“You’re so corny.”

Ami & Kenji invited you out the following week, and three hours before the prior hangout, they were both freaking out over how to properly ask you about it. Mina had to intervene a bit. They were disturbing Chiho, after all.

With bated breath and flowers in both of their palms, they watched as you walked into the restaurant and greeted them. You slid into the empty booth, sitting across from them as you questioned why they had decided to meet you here so suddenly.

Ami wanted to slowly guide you into it, but Kenji wanted you to join as soon as possible. He interrupted his girlfriend, blurting out how they ‘wanted you to be their girlfriend because you’re really cool and would fit right in’

Ami looked at him like he had grown two heads. You fixed your collar as you processed his words in shock, and then—finally, you quietly accepted.

“I’d like that.” You whispered before Ami could tear through Ken. Their heads snapped in your direction, Ami’s eyes widened beyond belief and Kenji with the biggest grin you had ever seen him don. “Are you serious? Are— Are you certain?” Ami nagged. You shrugged and nodded. “I mean, I’ve... I’ve liked,” You really, truly, and utterly meant love—but that.. was scary. “I’ve liked you two for a while now—and if you’ll have me, I’d love to join your relationship.” You concluded. Kenji’s grin got impossibly wider, “So it was that easy?!” He exclaimed, and Ami smacked him upside the head. You laughed. Kenji did too, & Ami’s eyes creased the way you always loved, as a bright smile made its way to her face too. She looked at you, a bit unsure, but nonetheless determined.

“We’re all new to this. Let’s take it slow, okay?” You nodded. Kenji only raised his hand and went, “Waiter! Can we get some drinks in here? For a celebration!”

Looking at Kenji’s toothy smile, and Ami’s content expression, you perked up. You had waited for your turn at the rollercoaster of love, and now you were buckled in. It would be a hell of a ride.

Ami and Kenji will run you ragged (positive) adapting to their love languages. Kenji is very physical, he likes to give you two back hugs, and he does them way too often than he should. Ami, however, is more of a quiet lover, but you know she loves you. Your proof? The fact she orders for you and gets it right all the time, the way there’s always food made when Kenji and you sleep in—and the tender way your hair is combed when you first sleep in the same bed as them.

Her love language is acts of service if you couldn’t tell.

Ami & Kenji, in contrast to other throuples, usually schedule dates where all three of you can spend time with each other. They want to spend as much time with you as they can, both being as busy as they can be—with Kenji being a part of the Giants and also literally Ultraman, and Ami being a renowned journalist, there is not a day where they yearn for you three to reunite once more. Of course, while Kenji is busy—Ami and you always cuddle, and vice versa, but they truly prefer three-way dates. Triple the love, Kenji says.

When you met Chiho, she put her Ultraman mask on you first thing. You laughed and placed it back onto her head—stating that she fit it much better than you did. Kenji joined in, too. The two of you played with Chiho, not knowing that Ami, in her study, was watching over you three: love clouded her eyes as she watched Kenji lift Chiho up, her Ultraman mask on, as you, the ‘villain’, cowered in fear of the mighty superhero she was.

Chiho clung to the three of you like glue after that. All she knew was that Mr. Kenji and Mama loved you as much as they loved each other. That was enough for her to love you even more.

You and Ami aren’t that stupid. You both know who Ultraman truly is—you both know what Kenji’s hiding. even if you aren’t admitting it. You just both remember to shower him with a little more love when he takes a nastier beating.

It takes Kenji five months to finally confirm it, though. He says he’s Ultraman and he can’t even look you both in the eyes. His pretty skin is bruised, and his eye is beaten black. You and Ami look at each other, then at him.

The two of you treat him tenderly, an ice bath having been prepared. He swears he’s in heaven when he sees his two sweethearts lean over the bathtub to give him kisses—a kiss from you on the left, and a kiss from Ami on the right. He asks you both to join him and you shut him down. Boyfriend or not, an ice bath is an ice bath… and an ice bath is freakishly, freakishly cold.

That same night, you lure Kenji into bed, Ami already tucked into the blankets as she opens up Netflix and smiles at the two of you. Kenji takes his place in the middle, ready to be coddled because the Lord knows he needs it with how stressed he is.

You place a hand on his chest to give him a kiss on the forehead, and Ami rests her head on his shoulder. Kenji can’t even focus on the movie, he can only focus on the two of you. He wonders if the two of you feel the same way he does; he already has his answer: Yes.

He feels so loved.

#kenji sato x reader #kenji x reader #ken x reader #ken sato x reader #kenji sato #ken sato #ami wakita #ami wakita x reader #ami x reader #ultraman rising x reader #ultraman #ultraman rising #ultraman 2024 #ultraman rising 2024 #ultraman x reader #ultraman kenji sato #ultraman ami wakita #ultraman emi #chiho wakita

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shiphappen-s · 22 days

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Ok I'm about to say some shit that may or may not make sense. I think it would have been infinitely more heartbreaking if they had gone with a House of M style storyline for season 4 of The Umbrella Academy instead of the bs they did go with.

For those of you who don't know, House of M is a marvel comic storyline. It starts off by showing Wanda Maximoff, one of the most powerful mutants on the planet, having a psychotic break. Her power gives her the ability to warp reality which she used to create her children. She fell so deep into this altered reality that when she learned her children were never actually real, she snapped. She lost control of her ability and killed several of her close friends. Eventually, the most powerful people on the planet have to make a decision whether to kill her or not because she is becoming increasingly difficult to contain. Hearing this, her brother comes and tells her that they're going to kill her. He begs her to rewrite reality, to make a world where all of their friends are happy and they can live in peace. So she does and she gives all of her friends the perfect normal life. For example, Peter Parker has a life where he married Gwen Stacy and his uncle Ben is still alive. Mutants are the higher class of citizen so the X-men are all powerful and loved. Magneto, Wanda's father, is one of the most powerful men in the world. And wolverine is the only person who knows this is wrong. And he, with the help of a little mutant girl who also remembers, gets everyone to remember their old lives so they put the world back. But it's awful, remembering their old lives filled with so much pain. Watching Peter realize that half of his family is actually dead in the real world. That he was finally happy only to have it all ripped away. He was destroyed but then he got fuckin pissed.

Now imagine this with TUA. Allison can't handle Claire and Ray being gone. When she made the deal with Reginald, she had the opportunity to create a new world, to restart and get everything she ever wanted. And in the show, that's what happened, but imagine if she gave all of them what they really wanted. The perfect life.

Luther and Sloane married with a bunch of kids. Sloane is an elementary school teacher, Luther is the school security guard/counselor/gym teacher. Something where he's frequently interacting with the kids. He's always wanted to help people, always felt it was his purpose. He looks out for every kid that passes through those doors, would fight for them and protect them from everyone and everything. He's big and goofy and practically a kid himself too and so all the kids adore him. He has a wonderful life and he feels content.

Diego and Lila are married, they still have their biological kids. But they are also foster parents. Diego knows that anger, that helpless rage of growing up in a house like he did. Lila knows the confusion and pain that comes from losing your family young. Their first foster is Stan and they love him like he's their own. Stan ages out of the system but stays w Diego and Lila, the older brother to their kids. There's never a dull moment, with midnight placements and dozens of after school extracurriculars to attend. Diego has always had an incredibly strong sense of justice. He wanted to be a cop but realized he couldn't be in a dangerous job and be a foster parent. He sees what these kids have been through and he's angry for them, furious even. If he could, he would stab everyone who ever hurt any of his kids, but he can't. He feels helpless and Lila suggests social work. Diego has a normal job, but that itch to be in the action is culled by working with his foster kids, volunteering and helping in areas with high crime, and being a child advocate in courtrooms. Lila loves him all the more for it. Her urge is similar but different. She's still angry, deep down. She loves her kids and her life but she needs a way to get rid of that pain, so she joins a heavy metal band as a drummer. They both have normal boring jobs without any action or thrill, but they're stable and happy. They have both become the people they needed around when they were kids. Their house is full of love and safety and acceptance.

We know Allison's dream life. Her and Ray and Claire. She's happy with them, would do it all again to keep them with her. However, part of her will always be there, in the back of her mind, reminding her that this world is a lie

Klaus and Dave live in a little 2 bedroom apartment together. Klaus is sober, they have an extra room for Ben to stay over whenever he wants. Dave buys cat food for the strays in the alley behind their building and Klaus feeds them every night. They all have names, a group effort between Dave, Klaus, and occasionally Ben. Sometimes Dave goes to the temple for Shabbos services and Klaus almost always tags along. They volunteer at the library and the dog shelter and Klaus picks up art and knitting and writing; anything he can to keep his hands and mind busy. Dave is an army vet turned accountant and Klaus is a barista at a local coffee shop (and a local legend). Klaus has never felt more loved and safe.

Ben is a software engineer at a robotics company. He meets Jennifer, a mechanical engineer, during a company picnic. They hit it off instantly, falling in love quicker than anyone ever imagined. They get engaged after 3 months and married a year after that. No one thinks it will last but they know it will. They have 3 dogs and a cat. They vacation at the beach every year, neither having ever had cause to fear the ocean or what lurks within it.

Viktor lives on a farm with Sissy and Harlan. The quiet, structured life is good for Harlan and Viktor finds himself enjoying it as well. He likes working with his hands, the farm chores and manual labor help him feel fulfilled. Quiet nights by the fireplaces as Viktor teaches Harlan the violin, Sissy sipping her tea as she watches with a smile. They find a school for kids like Harlan nearby and he just flourishes there. He makes friends and gains skills to navigate a scary world and Viktor is so so proud. He gets to watch his son grow up and he couldn't be happier.

Five woke up one day to a life as a professor at a prestigious college where he teaches advanced quantum dynamics and other high level physics courses. His wife, Delores, is a former model and pregnant with their first kid. It's everything he has ever wanted, the life he never dared to fantasize about during the apocalypse. But it's not real. Nothing in this world is real. Five remembers everything. And we, as the viewers, have to watch Five not only turn his back on everything he ever dreamed of having, but he also has to break this dream for his siblings too. He has to tell them that their lives aren't real, their spouses and kids and homes aren't real and they never were. Can you imagine the devastation? That would have been infinitely harder to watch than them just laying down to die imo. And also would give everyone that glimpse of a happy ending only to have it ripped away from them. A chance to bring back all the threads and loose ends that were left in different seasons.

If you've read this far, thanks for coming to my tedtalk lol

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rosesareredrosa · 1 month

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50 Shades of Grey

Theo Nott x fem reader

Summary: Theo finds one of y/n favorite books on her nights stand which is 50 shades of Grey

w/c: 939

a/n: Some smut not that bad ig i am shit at writing smut

Once I got to my dorm, knowing Theodore, he was already out there sparking up. I stepped in to find Theo with a lit blunt between his lips, his feet kicked up, and he was slouched down in a chair reading a book? Theo wasn't much of a reader, so this surprised me. "Hey! What are you reading reading?" I nonchalantly asked, not even glancing at the cover.

"I don't know. You tell me. It was on your nightstand," he responded, looking at me mischievously. Then it dawned on me. Oh my god! He was reading one of my dark romance novels that I left on my nightstand the night prior. I thought about grabbing it from him, but chances are it was too late. He was already several pages deep.

It was one of my favorites Fifty Shades of Grey. There were a lot of detailed and deranged sexual encounters in it.

"What? You into it?" I teased him. "I'll be honest - kind of," he smirked, and he passed me the blunt he'd rolled. "Why don't you just do one-night stands like the rest of us?" Theo giggled, flipping to the next page, still reading it. I rolled my eyes and took a few puffs. "If you must know," I started, passing the blunt back to Theo, "I do, but sometimes I prefer to read it," I said, biting my lip. "Really? How come?" He looked at me intrigued. "Well, I like how detailed the books are, and I like that I can imagine anyone I want when I'm reading books. When you're with others, you're stuck with whatever usually unattractive person that not my type. Plus, I like having my mind stimulated, not just my eyes and my body," I said, shrugging.

"Oh yeah? And what hot guys do you picture?" Theo asked, teasing me, passing me the weed again. "Like I'd ever tell you," I scoffed. "Why not? Is it 'cause you think about me?" Theo jokingly asked me. However, I wasn't a good liar, and I did sometimes picture Theo. I couldn't help it. He was really hot, even though he was my best friend. I blushed and tried to hold back a grin as I passed him back the blunt. "So you do! You think of me like that?" Theo responded, seductively smiling at me while he took another hit. "No!" I said, but even I remained unconvinced at the way it sounded when it came out.

"Do you ever play with yourself while you're reading these books?" Theo wondered, biting his lip and looking me up and down. "Well, what else would one do with horny material?" I asked, smirking. "Does that mean you think about me when you touch yourself?" He questioned me. Theo loved to stir people up and make them uncomfortable, and it's one of the things, the way he could rile me up so easily.

"Shut up, Theodore," I said, slugging him in the arm. "It's a simple question you've yet to answer," Theo sneered at me. "You already know the answer to that," Theo. Did you come over here just to humiliate me?" I inquired. "Of course not. Only if you're into that," he shot me a look. I couldn't stop blushing.

"You know, this shit is well-written. It's actually making me a little hard," Theo admitted while he slowly started to stroke himself through his pants, looking up at me from the book. Ugh, he was doing this on purpose. "I'd love it if someone took care of it for me," he moaned, seductively grinning up at me and massaging the head of his cock through the fabric of his clothing.

I took in the lovely sight before me, Theo's blue eyes locked on mine, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, his fingers grazing the bulge between his legs. I couldn't control what happened next.

I fell to my knees. I couldn't look at him like that and not help him. My mouth fell open as he took himself out of his sweatpants, It was only half-hard, but it was big. He placed it between my parted lips, and I felt it grow bigger as I explored all the ridges with my tongue, and he responded with a breathy and drawn-out "fuck."

I slowly and sensually worked my way around his whole manhood. I left a long lick, starting at the base of his shaft and ending at his tip. I did this a few times, teasing him while his eyes followed my tongue. His cock lightly twitched, begging to be taken wholly into my mouth.

As I wrapped my lips around the head and took him in as deep as I could, I heard him let out a primal moan. I bobbed my head up and down on him, lightly gagging and making sloppy sounds as my lips glided across his enticing dick. I ever so gently ran my teeth along the tip, eliciting more harmonious sounds from him. "This is the best head I've ever gotten, and I have slept with a lot of girls" Theo moaned breathlessly under the flit of my tongue.

The way he watched me, his facial expressions tainted by sexual desire, and his soft whimpers. I felt his dick throb against the roof of my mouth. "Oh god," he muttered while he emptied his seed into the back of my throat. It was thick and sweet and salty, and I obediently swallowed.

Theo let out a satisfied laugh. "Shit, do you have any more books like this? And can I borrow them sometime?" We should do this more often."

#slytherin x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x you #slytherin boys #theodore nott smut #theo nott #theodore smut

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theprettynosferatu · 1 year

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Oh, you're awake. Finally. Please, look at the picture on the screen.

You recognize her, I suppose. Look at how silly she looks, trying to be tough, trying to look cool. All that leather and black and studs… doesn't she look ridiculous?

I see you nodding. Good. The special drink is grabbing hold of your brain. Making it softer. Malleable. You really should be more careful about accepting treats from strangers… but I suppose you won't have to worry about that anymore. Or anything else.

Now, let's look at your social media. Lord, isn't that pathetic. Trying so hard to be clever, to be snarky, to be rebellious. It's almost endearing, like a puppy trying to walk in its hind legs. Come on, we both know it's all just a costume, don't we? One you've worn for so long you mistakenly believe it's a personality- one you developed when you were a teen. One you need to grow out of.

Please, don't struggle. The knots are quite secure, I assure you. I've done this too many times to count. Why are you resisting, anyway? Do you truly, deep down believe this personality of yours is worth saving? Worth fighting for? Doesn't it just look as the pathetic attempt by a dumb girl to pretend to be something more?

Ah. I see you squirming. Was it the "dumb girl" comment? I suspect it was. Your pussy knows I'm right, and it's screaming its approval. It's screaming for you to accept its truth, pulsing with neediness and wet with anticipation… I wonder what it is about that word. “Dumb"... it does have an effect on you, tough girl. Dumb. Silly. Stupid girl. My oh my, is that a moan that just escaped your lips? I’m sure it was. Feeling softer, are we?

Softer indeed… I’m sure you can sense it still… the way it’s becoming harder and harder to focus. The way a pink cloud seems to be permeating your consciousness. The way you half-perceive the faint scent of cotton candy. The way you are getting more and more soaked by the second.

Oh, stop struggling. Tell me, why do you hate it so much? The idea of actually being a cute, silly, horny girl? I can see it in your eyes- the loathing. The searing, pure anger. Why, though? I suppose you are imagining all those girls, those popular girls, those slutty girls, those bimbos that soaked up all the attention and the praise. Am I wrong? I don’t think I am. But I do think you are hiding. Yes, hiding what really happened. You tell yourself a story, one that makes you look good, or so you think. That you’re better than them. Stronger than them. More independent than them. A free thinker! A rebel punk feminist! But that’s not the whole story, is it now? No, we both know what really happened. You surrendered.

Yes, that’s it. Your eyes can’t lie, you know. You surrendered because you could never, ever be like them, be as giggly and flirty and free- so you decided you wouldn’t compete with them on their own terms, and modeled yourself to be their opposite. How pathetic is that? Even in your resistance, you could only be defined by them, by your rejection of them. You became their dark mirror, and soaked in the attention of the leather-wearing so-called “punks” and the geeks and all the other rejects. But you know why they even looked at you: because the other girls, the pretty girls, the girls in pink wouldn't even deign to turn their gaze towards them. You were always… what they settled for.

You think I’m being cruel. Well, I won’t deny that I get some pleasure from throwing the truth at your face. It’s always so much fun to watch you all fight, and moan, and deny that they would do anything, anything at all to be able to finger fuck yourselves to oblivion… But believe me, my cruelty has a purpose. I wouldn’t be doing this to you if I didn’t have a higher goal in mind. A benevolent one.

I can take it all away. All that resentment, that anger, that anxiety… that constant, pointless quest to be… what? A professional? A successful woman? An independent soul? Please. That’s only so much set dressing. I can strip those delusions from you, give you what you really want.

Imagine it with me. Tight white jeans showing off your ass, the shape of your legs. A pink tank-top, proudly proclaiming yourself to be a princess in tacky, gold lettering. The men turning their heads as you walk. Everyone being so nice to you at parties… because they want to see you on your knees, licking and sucking and worshiping their cocks, because they want to bend you over and use your slutty pussy as their plaything. And you… you would love it.

No more fear. No more stress. Just the bliss of sucking three cocks, going from one yummy dick to the next, squeezing your titties together to give them the spectacle of their lifetimes. And then your cunt being filled, that hole you now hold your rage in given meaning and purpose by becoming a living set of holes for men to use, sensing the simple, plain joy of knowing you are doing what you were meant to do with your life. Knowing you are wanted. Desired.

I see you’re drooling. Sounds like you like my little proposal. Well, there’s one simple way to sign this pact with me. You don’t even have to speak- speaking seems so hard now, doesn’t it? So keep quiet and let your slutty body do the talking for you. Keep your mouth open.

There. Good girl. Doesn’t my cock look tempting? Amazing? Like you could just suck it forever? Yes, good girl… now, let me fuck your mouth- and know my cock is only the first of many. Too many to count.

Then again, by this point you can’t count too high, can you?

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu !

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love-toxin · 2 months

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@ eric draven, hes goth and metal And he kills people AND hes a feminist. literally the whole package what else could u want <33

UNNNNNGHHH AND HE'S GOT THE BIG WET PUPPY EYES GRRRAAAAAAAAHHHH

like.....like......imagine after the events of the crow Eric doesn't go back to purgatory or pass through to the afterlife, but rather finds himself staying in the land of the living for some unknown reason. he's got his revenge, he's avenged his beloved Shelley, but what now? what's his purpose?

but the crow won't speak to him any words of either comfort or doom, so he just wanders. wanders away from his city and home until he stops somewhere on the opposite side. spends time thinking and planning and thinking until he drives himself nearly mad and falls asleep. he can't do much else, or at least thinks he can't. when he's found no better place to roam he returns home, but when he steps up the curb to his apartment, he sees lights on upstairs. something dark stirs in him--protectiveness, maybe, he's sensitive to his home being invaded for obvious reasons--but when he leaps up and perches on the ledge of the shattered window he sees somebody he's never met before.

you're just standing in his apartment, sweeping up shards of broken glass like you own the place. humming to yourself. he remembers, briefly, what it was like when there was music in his home. but it used to be Shelley's laughter, and now there's a soft-eyed stranger singing a quiet tune in the lamplight, and he feels the same as he did back then. he sticks to the shadows because he doesn't know what to expect, but you just step lightly around the pile and sweep the glass shards into your dustpan. there's a little electric lantern keeping the place aglow and a few small bags of meager luggage huddled at the front door.

it occurs to him that you might be the new resident as he coldly watches you from a distance. it's obvious that the apartment would be repurposed at some point after his death, but how do you feel knowing that you're taking over the home of a dead man? that you'll lay your head in the same place where a couple were brutally and viciously murdered? where Shelley, his Shelley, was-

you tilt your head. your ears perked at the imperceptible sound and you nearly caught him staring, but he's a lot faster to hide than you are to see.

he leaves soon after that, but he finds himself returning every night. he learns things about you. you're industrious, for one--you work on the apartment whenever you're not working your job, both of which are tough, and you sleep on a hard mattress on the floor. you spend such a long time cleaning but when you find little things left behind of his or Shelley's, you don't throw them out. maybe you feel bad for them. maybe you know exactly what happened, and you don't want to disrespect their memory.

maybe you're a really, really good person that lives for a better world. Eric can't help but think that when he watches you tirelessly slave over renovating his apartment--he can't ever quite see it as something not of his own--taking down what was broken and making it into something beautiful again. he doesn't know you that well, he only hears your voice when you're talking on the phone or singing in the shower, but he grows to like you. you're gentle. you smile at little things and you laugh as sweetly as you cry. even when you feel frustrated or betrayed, when you get violent and punch something out of anger, you just feel it in such a raw way that it entrances him. you're complex. you're gorgeous. you're someone he could very easily fall in love with, but you don't deserve to feel his hurt in the way that he does. you can't shoulder his burdens with him when they're just too great for a mortal life.

so he resorts to watching you and feeling badly about it. he's kind of stalking you at this level, but he goes nowhere beyond following you to work and back and occasionally glancing through your window to make sure you're okay. one time he caught you freshly out of the shower with your towel nowhere in sight--you were out of clean ones and had to go digging--and he felt so bad about it he couldn't be around your place for weeks. but you deserve protection and all the love in the world, and if he can't give you one he can at least give you the other. at this point he would never forgive himself, he would probably burn down the whole city if what happened to him and Shelley happened to you. he would truly lose his mind.

it's only when you catch him that he has to stop and think on what he's doing, because there's no way he can explain himself properly--perching atop the roof of your apartment with the crow grooming its feathers at his side. when you stumble across him he wasn't even paying attention, just keeping an ear out for any screams or cries for help, but you mesmerize him because you're just so....so...

"are you....cold?"

kind. you're so warm he couldn't think of shivering in your presence. from that day on you're aware of his presence but you don't mind it. you welcome it. you don't know who he really is and you probably wouldn't believe him if he told you, but you welcome him in and that's fine because he really, truly is in love with you now. he has to be. because there's no way that his silent heart would start beating again for any other reason, even if it's just a trick of the mind and it's not really true. you touch his hands and feel cold skin and he's definitely still not alive, but he doesn't feel quite as dead as he was, and every day he spends growing closer and closer to you he feels death growing into a curse over a promise. maybe he doesn't really want to go back to sleep after all...not if the world has people like you, and not if a person like you could start feeling something for a restless, morbid soul like him.

#goddddd why is he so perfect....husband material....#eric draven #eric draven x reader #the crow #the crow (1994)#slashers #<- not rlly but i wanna group all the scawies easily LOL #ellie writes #anons

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w1shb0n3z · 4 months

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Alright, so hear me out

(this is another long one. Like. Seriously. It has 2.6k words.)

*yes, I edited this like 5 mins after I posted it just to add some more, oops

Post cannon Labru where Laios tries to help Kabru regain weight

TW: ED, Body Dysmorphia, Fat-phobia, Gender Dysphoria

It turns out to he a huge body image thing. Like Kabru develops a bit of an ED after he gains his weight back and tries to stay "the perfect weight" and major body dysmorphia. But! It's very sweet because hand feeding, of course, and self-acceptance.

I imagine Kabru's blue eyes get brought up when Laios is like "oh, you don't like that about yourself? :( you're so wonderful! What else could you possibly not like! Surely not those eyes ^^" or something

Plus! I'm 98% sure that Laios gains some weight post cannon, so his wrestler build gets softer, which, yay! We love that here! But this comes with its positives and negatives. (Dont he scared by how big the negative paragraph is)

Positive: Kabru has an example of having a healthy relationship with yourself and your body

Negatives (and hold on) TW btw: at a certain point of Kabru's weight gain/ body acceptance journey, where he gets obsessed with keeping "the perfect body" and does everything in his power not to gain anymore, his own twisted view of himself spills over to Laios. He starts to view Laios as a sort of slob or careless person because he gained weight after the dungeon and gained an extra 5-ish pounds while helping Kabru gain. Because Laios can and will encourage Kabru to eat by eating with him with a smile on his face.

What if someone finds out about Kabru's purging?

Yes, Kabru has purged a few times while he was at his lowest. And no, Laios doesn't catch him in the act. He doesn't know until someone tells him about it. Kabru just keeps it to himself with a tinge of guilt. Someone else finds out. I can't decide who yet, but if it were:

Chilchuck - he'd be familiar with his topic because one of his daughters went through the same thing. He keeps secret as per Kabru's request but gives to Kabru straight. He tells him vomiting hat much rots your teeth and only has negative impacts in the future. With Chil being big and tall for his race's standards and him canonically watching his own weight, he talks Kabru through this whole body image thing. Maybe not in the exact way Kabru wants, but in the way he needs

Senshi - he's SO against this. He tries to father Kabru, but his own lack of understanding for why Labru feels this way gets in the way of progress. He urges Kabru to eat and tells Laios what's goin on in hopes of figuring out what all of this is about, accidentally spilling the beans and leading to conflict between Laios and Kabru

Marcille - she doesn't really get the ED thing, but she gets not liking your body (since she never fit in with her "age group" while growing up and wished she physically presented like them). She also tells Kabru that throwing up rots his teeth and says it's bad for your mana and junk. Shes very offput by this whole thing, but she tries. She doesn't tell Laios...on purpose. (Falin also finds out becuase the guilt Marcille has from telling that secret ears her alive)

Falin - my girl does NOT understand. But she's here to empathize. She ends up being huge in Kabru's healing journey. She tries to check in on bim every now and then and uses her own transformation to promote body acceptance

Izutsumi - she doesn't know what to do. She's 17 goddamn it. So when she hears Kabru throwing up she just assumes he's sick, but when she keeps hearing it she gets a little stressed about him. She goes "he's just weird" and mentions it in conversation to someone else, most likely Marcille (which probably led to Marcille finding out in the earlier paragraph)

Mickbell...somehow - is like "dude wtf" and tells Rin about it since he knows there close. He's worried, yeah, but he doesn't think its really his problem. Especially since the two fo them aren't close like that.

Kuro - he finds out and tells Rin as well, he also tells Kabru that he looks fine. He mentions it to Mickbell, yeah, but in a "Will he be okay? :(" way

Rin - devastated. She initially gives Kabru a hard talk...which makes him worse, but hey! She tried. Rin then thinks its becuase of the shame of dying many times and tries to comfort Kabru again. Doesn't work. She tries to get him to eat the things he likes. He eats them, but she can sense the guilt from Kabru. They then have a heart to heart becuase Rin can't stand to see her best friend suffer like this and assures him that he looks fine as often as he needs

Holm - he takes a simular approach as Falin but gets a little more involved. He understands it on paper, but can't image what actually having these issues is like. Yes, he also informs Rin and is the one that told her to try to speak to Kabru in a less...prickly manner about this touchy subject

Daya - She doesnt realise what Kabru was trying to achieve by puking. So she just advises him not to do so and tells Rin about the strange behavior.

How does this affect non-platonic Labru?

Easy!

Well for starters! If they were boning before, they aren't now LMAO

Partly because of Kabru's own body image being trash and his attraction to Laios (temporarily) going to shit after Laios gained some weight to encourage Kabru. Damn that internalized fat-phobia. Neither one of them seems to have a clue what's going on. Let word, seems.

Kabru knows his view of Laios just isn't the same, but he doesn't let it be known that he's aware of this.

Does he feel bad? Yeah. But he only feels bad because he doesn't feel bad. He feels as though he's a shitty boyfriend for harboring such disgust for his partner's figure

Laios catches Kabru stealing glances at himself in the mirror. Staring just a little too long. Laios deduces that Kabru's feeling a little self-conscious after some hard thought.

So, of course, he makes sure to be extra careful about his words. He'd totally be like that one meme (which I can't find) that goes: "damn girl, that ass is wide" "what??" "I didn't want to say fat and trigger your eating disorders :/"

Plus, on the not boning thing, they're busy. You got a king and his advisor, they're not gonna be cranking it up every night! They simply sleep together, in a literal sense most nights anyways, so more sleep isn't anything bad

Additionally, I don't believe Laios has a high sex drive at all. (I personally think he's on the asexual spectrum, maybe because I'm ace, but still)

Kabru won't initiate a thing at the moment, it's up to Laio's sporadic desires to get things going. (It never gets going)

What if Laios discovers Kabru's feelings towards him and the purging?

He's hurt, simply put. He can't understand why Kabru dislikes his body, Laios can't understand why his own body would be such a turn off now.

In the non-platonic vers Laios tries to become "sexy" again. ....He fails horribly and ends up making a fool out if himself. At first he's like, "well monsters do this to attract mates" right after he feels as though he needs to inprove upon himself. Then he goes "no... Kabru isnt a monster, and im not either (unfortunately)"

He pushes that silly thought aside and tries to find out *why* Kabru is turned off by his looks now. His face? No.. His hair? Just got it cut. His figure? ...but why?

Laios goes right up to Kabru and confronts him about it. Kabru being the slippery bitch that he is denies it and goes "lol wtf haha! I luv u bae and there's nothing wrong with u!! ur so sexy and hot haha..."

This, inevitably, confused the shit out of Laios and he asks for honesty. Kabrus actions aren't exactly aligning with his words, and something needs to he done.

[Okay, let's be real here. If Kabru didn't want Laios to know how he felt, Laios' ass would NOT know lmao. This is just for the bit]

Now the purging? Laios is like "dude what? :(" he doesn't understand it. Nope. Not at all. He tires to he supportive, but he really doesn't know what to do with this. It's not like there's a bulimia monster, so he has no real frame of reference.

He's all "but you look fine how you are :(" and "I like the weight on you!" or even "did you know that [this species of monster] finds fat attractive? ,:D"

He means so so well, and Karbu knows it. Laios really is just a dog of a man.

Laios also tries to get Kabru to promise to stop. We know how that went. Karbu agreeing just to do it behind Laios' back because he knows Laios won't find out. He'll cut back on it, yeah, but he has his weak moments.

Eventually, Laios makes sure to only have Kabru serve his favorite meals. That should keep him from puking it up! And Karbu stops after a while. But only because his health is on the decline.

What else?

Two words: hand. feeding.

Kabru throws up? He gets his favorite meals so he won't. Kabru keeps checking his figure? Less mirrors in the caslte and more compliments. Kabru not eating enough or skipping meals? Simple. Laios makes sure he eats.

And how? A little less of Laios sensually slipping a fork full of decedent chocolate cake past Kabru's lips and a little more than a simple "here comes the airplane"

It starts off as Laios seeing Kabru taking smaller bites and being like "oh! Let me show you how to fill your fork! ^^" and then him taking Kabru's fork, impaling a bunch of assorted foods onto said fork, then handing it back to Kabru.

Then it sort of devolved (...evolved?) Into Kabru begrudgingly letting Laios feed him like a toddler while no one else ot looking. My boy Kabru does NOT know how to say no to this autistic man properly.

Laios was like "would it help if I just fed you?" And karbu replied something like "haha! It just might!" And of course Laios did not pick up on that God level sarcasm and went "cool, Let's try it then" and Kabru, wanting to appease Laios said "cool!". Bro was punching air.

(Yes, Laios said stuff like "good job buddy!" "You're doing so well!" "Its tasty, right?" Almost every bite)

In the non-platonic world, Laios would have Karbu sit ever so close to him as he was fed, maybe even in his lap. And of course Karbu would get a peck on the cheek after every bite. And the whole process may or may not turn Laios on. Especially when they're dining on monster. Whoops.

....anything else?

This all ties in with the absurd standards that was set for Karbu and the insecurities he hides within himself.

The whole blue-eye-spawn-of-a-demon thing was already enough for him. But being raised by that moody ass elf was a whole nother thing.

Milsiril, his adoptive elf mom, raises children like she has a monopoly in daycares. She's a serial foster fr. All them damn kids. Raising them like pets becuase you want something to love and depend on you. (I love Milsiril btw)

Anyways.

Kabru was his mom's favorite since his features were unique. Im talkin big bright blue eyes contrasting with rich dark skin, in particular. Plus, he was so sociable! All of his siblings looked up to him in one way or another. He was the star child.

And, you know that thing about elves being twinks, right? When ever Milsiril would check up on Karbu's health, she would use this old elven chart depicting the "average/desirable/suggested" height, weight, and muscle tone for diffrent short-lived races at diffrent ages/stages of life.

Safe to say these charts and texts were based off of elven standards, so everyone was thought to be slimmer, lighter, and more toned than normal. Plus, they're old lol. Instead of updating her charts and buying some from the diffrent cultures and races, she keeps her old one becuase she legit just forgets to replace it and hasn't had any "major problems" while raising her kids with that information so she doesn't think to change it.

What in trying to say is!

Kabru was raised with unrealistic body goals, and when he used to deviate from those arbitrary statistics during childhood he'd be put on diets and stuff.

Also, What if Kabru was transmasc?

Especially when he was a teen, even gaining a little wait made him go nuts. He couldn't get the words "unhealthy" out of his head and started associating it with the word "fat". His mind likes to play tricks on him when he's in the mirror. Exaggerating his figure and making him panic.

So! When he was sick and tired after that weird ass dungeon trip that changed his whole world and he came back to find himself thin as a pin, he tweaked.

He logically hated it because it was unhealthy, but a part of him was satisfied. With the added stress of becoming a Kings advisor, he started to crack under the pressure, manifesting in an obsession with himself. When he started to gain weight back he was brought right back to those check ups he had with Milsiril and those 2, maybe 3 times he was put onto diets in his youth. He really feared he was getting fat and he would just stare into the mirror and feel his flesh beneath his fingertips, searching for some sort of confirmation. All he felt was a bit of a squish, a bit of a give, and that's all he needed.

It was too much for him. His body was wrecked in his eyes. He's supposed to he fit and lean and thin and perfect. How could that be perfect? He looks in the mirror in his private study, wasting the time he could've been spending planning new city infrastructure or working out the kinks in trade. But no. He's here, in his dimly lit room, looking at how imperfect he's become in his eyes. How unhealthy he is his mom's eyes. How disgusting he is in his birth mothers eyes.

He had to fix it. The wound rubs deep, dar past the dermis. And, I guess, much like other wounds that cut a chasm into the skin, you don't really feel it once it severs your nerves. You don't really notice until you see the big, gaping, bleeding, notch where you used to be.

Lol anyways

Whoo boy. He is in hell. He feels like gaining weight makes him look "softer" and more feminine. He hates it, yes. But he tries his best not to let it effect his wardrobe. This whole weight journey really rehydrated his gender dysphoria.

He's used to looking a little androgynous, but with his new weight going to his stomach, hips, and thighs, he just feels as though his silhouette is becoming more girly.

Kabru is found training and working out more. Anything to get his body more boxy again.

He spends more time making sure he looks presentable. Even waking up a little earlier to ensure he vouge cover ready. (Well, I mean, as vouge ready as perpetual business casual can be)

And how does it end?

It takes some time, but Kabru heals. He's 10 pounds heavier than when we were first introduced to him, but he doesn't mind anymore.

It was a long journey full of all sorts of denail and shame, but he got there.

He's still the Light Yagami coded perfect chivalrous boy. He always has been. And Laios loves him all the same. Platonically or not.

Laios was essential in Karbu learning to let go of those impossible ideal and unreachable standards. Laios does not give a fuck afterall, he thinks all human bodies are unintresting beautiful! That dude does not judge. Rember him talking about the orc women in one of the monster tidbit sections? He's about body acceptance and neutrality.

Kabru grew to love his body, not just tolderate it or like it because someone else does. And if it tickles you, he liked the extra pounds Laios gained in the end, too. And if you're here for non-platonic Labru, then Laios may have became a bit of a feeder and has a tiiiiny food kink. Plus, Laios is a huge fan of the squish and Kabru likes how warm Laios is.

I just want to add this in here, also hecuase ive seen it before and i agree, but Laios seems like the type to give dutch ovens. He shows love like a big brother and its horrible (affectionate). This passes Karbu off SO BAD and it's hilarious. He has to sit down and have a very direct and serious talk about "getting too comfortable". And Laios would sit there the entire time like a sad dog and nod along.

Kabru and Laios also wrestle. No debate. They do it to spar, Laios does it for fun, Kabru does it to make Laios shut up. It's great!

Sorry this took so long lmao,, I legit just kept forgetting to write this

This was just word vomit. I've lost the plot somewhere along the way, I fear

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laneywrld · 3 months

Text

futile devices | Lewis Hamilton

request: you have a real talent for angst hehe. can i request one with lewis where he broke up with reader bcs he said he needed a break. but then not long after he was out with other women. the breakup broke reader she turned into a whole diff person. and she was like "i dont think any of that was real" when she talked abt her past with lewis? please tear my heart apart into pieces, im begging you

word count: 2.4k

warnings: ANGSTTT, dissociation, therapy, religious talks.

listen while you read for the full experience:

apple music, spotify

You read something once, it goes, did god create humans because he was lonely or humans God because they were lonely?

Now, you were never strongly religious, enough to go to church three times a week or remember to pray before each meal or bedtime, a part of you wants to believe that there is a God. A flicker of you does feel like, hey, there has to be someone out there pushing my hand like this, there has to be a reason for this.

And that's human nature, needing a reason.

When you don't have a reasonable explanation for things, your mind searches for that reasoning. History shows, that when man knows nothing man creates, look at mythology for an example.

In ancient cultures, the world was filled with mysteries—natural events, life and death, the changing seasons—that seemed inexplicable without invoking a higher power or supernatural beings.

So, what did humans do?

They have created gods and mythical figures to explain phenomena they didn't understand.

In a way it's a beautiful thing, what that has done is infuse our real world with a sense of order and meaning in a world that could often seem chaotic and purposeless.

That is what life is without reasoning, a big fucking question.

Humanity sought not only to explain the world around them but also to find their place within it, weaving their existence into the larger tapestry of the cosmos.

We have an enduring need to seek meaning in the face of the unfathomable, to transform the mysterious into the comprehensible, and to infuse our world with a sense of purpose and coherence.

The point is this, maybe you were blind to it all, maybe your brain forced you to believe it. Forced you to see things as they weren't.

Lewis Hamilton never loved you, he never even cared. You can see that now.

The point is this: maybe you were blind to it all, maybe your brain forced you to believe it, to see things as they weren't. For the longest time, you believed Lewis Hamilton loved you. His charming smile, the way he looked at you, the tender moments you shared—they all seemed so real, so genuine.

But in the end, it was all a façade.

It started to unravel one evening when Lewis sat you down, a serious look on his face. "I need a break," he said, his voice devoid of the warmth you were used to. "I need to find myself."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You wanted to understand, to support him in his quest for self-discovery. But as days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, the truth began to surface. The only thing Lewis found was himself under different women.

The news and rumors reached you like whispers in the wind, each one a dagger to your heart.

It boggled you, it really did. How could someone who seemed so loving, so dedicated, turn out to be so deceitful? You replayed your memories, searching for signs, for clues you might have missed. Maybe you were blind to it all, or maybe you wanted so desperately to believe in his love that you ignored the red flags.

There were moments that stood out now, in harsh clarity. The late nights he claimed were for training, the mysterious phone calls he brushed off, the growing distance in his eyes. You had chalked it up to stress, to the demands of his career. But now, it all made sense. It was never about finding himself; it was about finding excuses.

The realization hurt more than you could have imagined. You felt betrayed, not just by Lewis, but by your own heart for leading you astray. The love you thought was real had been a carefully constructed illusion, and you were left to pick up the pieces of your shattered trust.

Did god create humans because he was lonely or humans God because they were lonely?

You were lonely, and you filled that void with Lewis, even if it wasn't real, you allowed him to fill every crevice of your life with a warmth and excitement you had previously been lacking.

It became clear that it's a bad religion to love someone who could never love you back. Loving Lewis had been like worshiping a false god, investing your heart and soul into something that could never reciprocate your devotion.

You didn't know who you were without Lewis.

And that was the problem, yeah you realize now that true love, the kind that is worth believing in, is mutual and nurturing, not one-sided and destructive.

But he's fucking ruined you to the point of no return.

You always thought that those people who let their lives be flipped upside down over a breakup were dramatic. You used to believe that heartbreak was something you could just push through, that it was a part of life everyone had to endure and move past. Yet now, you understood fully. It's crazy how losing someone—or rather, being left by someone you thought loved you—could indeed flip your own life upside down and launch you back further than you knew you could go.

There was no point of return. The realization that Lewis never truly loved you was a blow that shattered your world. The man who once filled your days with laughter and your nights with tender whispers had left you with a void so profound it felt like you were lost in an endless abyss.

Lewis made you lack a belief in everything.

The trust you once held sacred, the love you thought was mutual, the future you had envisioned together—everything now seemed like a cruel illusion. His departure didn't just break your heart; it broke your spirit. You found yourself doubting your worth, your judgment, your ability to ever truly know someone.

You didn't know what was real or fake.

Nights were the hardest. Alone in the quiet of your room, memories would flood your mind—the way he used to hold you, the promises he made, the plans you both had. The betrayal felt like an echoing void, reminding you of the deception hidden behind charming smiles. You felt untethered, adrift in a sea of emotions with no solid ground in sight.

You began to see the world through a lens of skepticism. Where once you saw possibilities and hope, now you saw uncertainty and doubt. Lewis’ betrayal had sown seeds of mistrust in your heart, making it difficult to believe in anything or anyone. The optimism that once colored your outlook on life had been replaced by a grim resignation.

You didn't even know if you believed in God anymore, or purpose, or happiness. Lewis had taken every ounce of reasoning from you. Your brain couldn't decipher what was real or fake.

Was it real or was it fake?

Did Lewis love you or was this a sick game?

Did he love you or were you just lonely?

You didn't know what was real or fake, and it made you feel so fucking crazy.

The questions haunted you, relentlessly looping through your mind.

You replayed your relationship over and over, scrutinizing every moment, every gesture. What was real? What was fake? The uncertainty gnawed at your sanity, eroding the foundation of your life.

The world around you seemed distorted as if reality itself had become an unreliable narrator in the story of your life.

Your faith, which had once been a source of comfort and strength, now felt fragile and distant. You questioned everything you had once held dear, everything that had given your life meaning. Was there a higher power? A divine purpose? The betrayal had not only broken your heart but also shaken the very core of your beliefs.

Purpose felt like a cruel joke. The plans you had made, the dreams you had shared with Lewis, all seemed meaningless now. Happiness, once a tangible goal, now felt like an elusive mirage, always just out of reach. The void left by Lewis's departure was filled with a consuming darkness that threatened to swallow you whole.

You tried to find solace in the familiar, in the routine, but nothing felt the same. Your friends and family offered words of comfort, but their reassurances felt hollow, unable to penetrate the depths of your despair. You were trapped in a maze of confusion and pain, each turn leading you further into the unknown.

There were moments when you questioned your sanity. The line between reality and illusion had become so blurred that you wondered if you were losing your mind. You felt disconnected from yourself, from the person you used to be as if you were living in a surreal nightmare from which there was no escape.

You felt mindless, maybe he had taken your mind with him.

It felt as if your head could collapse at any given moment.

Your family wanted you to try therapy; you weren't yourself. Maybe, aside from taking your mind, Lewis also took the person you were with him. Therapy was hard, and though you've had session after session, you feel the same. Where was the progress everyone promised? Your therapist's voice drones on and on, and you feel like you're watching her from the hollowness like you've taken a backseat to your own life. Every single day felt like you were watching your life from another person's gaze, or like you were sitting inside your brain watching from your eyes, except it wasn't you.

Your therapist is still talking. Nothing she says helps; you want her to shut up as she spews the importance of finding yourself again. You want to scream at her as she preaches about purpose, but when you zero in, you're still quiet, eyes dead and hands folded. You're screaming inside your head, but she keeps talking.

You don't mean to cut her off, or maybe you do, but when the words tumble from your lips, she cocks her head in a way that tells you she's going to have fun studying this session later in the day.

"I feel like I'm not even here," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I'm watching my life happen to someone else."

Your therapist pauses, her pen hovering over her notepad. "That's a significant observation," she says slowly, as if measuring each word. "It sounds like you're experiencing dissociation, a common response to trauma."

You want to roll your eyes at her clinical response, but you can't muster the energy.

"Why does it matter?" you ask, your tone flat. "Knowing what's wrong doesn't make it better. I'm still...gone."

She leans forward slightly, her eyes searching yours for a flicker of connection. "It's the first step," she says. "Understanding what you're experiencing can help us find a way to bring you back. It's not a quick process, but it's a start."

You feel a surge of frustration. "Everyone keeps saying that. 'It's a process,' 'It's a journey,' 'It takes time.' But what if I never get back to who I was? What if I'm stuck like this forever?"

Your therapist doesn't flinch. "It's a valid fear," she acknowledges. "But healing isn't about returning to who you were. It's about integrating your experiences and finding a new sense of self. It’s about moving forward, not backward."

Her words echo in your mind, but they don't penetrate the numbness you feel. "I don't even know who I am anymore," you admit, the confession feeling like a weight lifted and a burden simultaneously.

"That's why we're here," she says gently. "To help you rediscover yourself. To help you heal. It's okay to feel lost right now. What's important is that you're here, trying to find your way."

You sit in silence, her words hanging in the air. Despite your resistance, a small part of you wants to believe her, to hope that maybe, just maybe, you can find your way out of this darkness.

But for now, you're still watching from the hollow place, detached and distant. Therapy might be a lifeline, but it feels like you're grasping at straws. You hope that someday, the promises of progress will become more than empty words, that you’ll find a way to step back into your own life, whole and strong.

But for now, that hope feels unrealistic. All you want is to know what was real. Were you that lonely? You had never felt lonely before him, never felt like a piece of you was missing. Before Lewis, you felt content with life, fulfilled.

The question haunted you. How had you become so dependent on his presence, his validation? You had always prided yourself on your independence, your ability to find joy and meaning in your own life. Friends, family, your work—these had always been enough. So why, after Lewis, did everything feel so empty?

Your mind raced back to the beginning, to the thrill and excitement of new love. You remembered how he made you feel special like you were the center of his universe.

It was intoxicating, a heady rush that blurred the lines between reality and fantasy. You realized now that you had mistaken the intensity of those feelings for something deeper, something real.

In the quiet of your therapy sessions, you wrestled with these thoughts. Your therapist's words often felt like background noise, drowned out by the clamor of your own doubts and insecurities. Yet, there was a part of you that recognized the need to confront these feelings, to understand why you had allowed yourself to become so entwined with someone who ultimately proved unworthy of your adoration.

Were you lonely? Or was it that Lewis had awakened a vulnerability you didn't know existed?

His departure left a gaping wound, exposing the raw edges of your heart. The loneliness you felt now wasn't just the absence of his presence, but the loss of the illusion of love he had created. It was the shattering of a carefully constructed facade that had made you feel whole, if only for a fleeting moment.

As you sat in your therapist's office, the background noise of her voice suddenly halted. For the first time, you murmured a sentence that showed progress, even if it was wrapped in sadness.

"I don't think any of it was real."

the way I just wrote this in 38 minutes, in my dark ass room with the linked song on replay while it's raining. what a great day. I'm really convinced that I can only write angst!

to the anon who called me sad and smutty ilyyyyy 🫶🏽😭 I'm making it my bio

also, I don't have access to the form for the taglist right now, so if you would like to be added or if you already submitted your user, pls just send me an ask with your user pls <3

#lewis hamilton #formula 1 #black reader #lewis hamilton imagine #black reader friendly #lewis hamilton x black reader #sir lewis hamilton #poc reader #laneywrld #f1 #angst #lewis hamilton angst

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neuroprincess · 9 months

Note

Criminal Minds Women, and how they act when they’re jealous? Thank you!

Criminal Minds - They're Jealous (Preferences)

Classification: Fluff

Pairing: Alex Blake, Elle Greenaway, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia and Tara Lewis

Warnings: None

Word count: +600

Alex Blake

4/10

- Being a more reserved and quiet person, she may not feel or show jealousy easily. However, when this happens she can react in one of two ways: stop next to you and wait for whoever is trying to gain your attention to realize that you're together, or simply be direct about it, being as calm and rational as possible. Then, in privacy and comfort, Alex will kiss you passionately, hands on waist caressing tenderly and never admitting that this reassures her more than any words could.

Elle Greenaway

7/10

- Let's say she doesn't get jealous often and it's not easy to cause it, that's what the brunette says. Elle isn't so subtle, you know immediately what's going on, because in a millisecond she changes her body expression, also gets serious and keeps silent, giving short answers. If you're at work, she'll stare blatantly, anger showing in every facial muscle. If you're in a bar or other public place, she'll just lean in and kiss you, resting her arm on your shoulder. She's certainly the most probable to pick a fight.

Emily Prentiss

5/10

- This woman would try not to let her jealousy show and would deny it to the death to anyone who asked, but she can't be as discreet as imagines. When she's jealous, the agent laughs more than she normally would and sometimes, without even realizing it, she slips out a few sarcastic phrases, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. If Emily becomes self-conscious about how is acting and reacting, she will apologize to you, a little embarrassed, and try to talk about it. Words of affirmation and physical touch are very effective ways of reassuring her, like holding hands under the table or using affectionate nicknames.

Jennifer Jareau

9/10

- Of all of them, the blonde is by far the most jealous. In addition to being easily susceptible, it's evident in every look, gesture and word, a growing anger at any provocation or inappropriate attention another person gives you. She finds it difficult to express this verbally or talk about the topic, but JJ is usually protective and very affectionate in these moments, which means arms wrapped around your body, hands held with fingers intertwined, an occasional kiss between collarbone and neck… possibly a mark in the same place will be made later, a hickey that she will constantly admire and be proud of, because you are hers and only hers.

Penelope Garcia

4/10

- Surprisingly, the hacker is jealous and doesn't make a point of hiding the fact. There are rare moments and it takes a bit of effort to happen, like when Derek calls you "Baby Girl" and she's openly bothered. At first, you both think the reason is because it's his exclusive nickname for her, only to quickly discover, in a friendly conversation, that she actually doesn't like anyone calling you affectionate names except herself, especially the sweet ones. And the man almost gets slapped on the head for teasing her on purpose. After all that, Penelope laughs and gives you a tender kiss, calling you all the sweet names she can think of, delighted to see you blush with some of them.

Tara Lewis

2/10

- Jealousy isn't on her agenda, even if you've been in a relationship for years it's possible to count on one hand how many times she's been jealous. If it does happen she's super chill during the whole thing, you hardly notice except for that familiar smile that doesn't really reach the eyes and fingers stroking down your forearm tortuously slow, believe, Tara doesn't even realize what she's doing until someone tells her. The topic is brought up in a pleasant conversation, with a few laughs and kisses, which surely ends in a cuddling session.

taglist: @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @wastdstime @scarr0713 @geekyandgay98 @dvrkhcld @heidss @xvyzxx @quailbagutte @milciak @ctrlamira @milffilm @prentiss-theorem @josephinevr @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @unexpected-character @spenc-is-bi @grandtacoranchnickel @multifandomlesbianic @louderfortheback @lovelyy-moonlight @gratifiedgiraffe @h-doodles @moonzbluz @lilfartbox1

Join my taglist here ^^

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #preferences #alex blake x reader #elle greenaway x reader #emily prentiss x reader #jj x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #penelope garcia x reader #tara lewis x reader

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hanniejji · 2 years

Text

silence

[ wanderer!scaramouche x okami!reader ]

summary: completely lost after his defeat in becoming a god, he searches not only for a new purpose but also for a certain someone who brought him comfort greater than his own kin would.

notes: aka scara is a baby and comes crying to you because he's a sore loser /jk | m.list

words: 2933 | warnings: it's scaramouche /jk there's nothing bad here just comfort and shit, also the pacing is kinda shitty cause i wrote this at work lmao

you have always loved the silence.

the eerie silence that enveloped a battlefield after a fight, where one side mourns for the dead and the other celebrates their victory far away. the tranquil noises of nature in the forest, your abode—if you focus enough, you can hear the white noise of the wind rushing above the sky, the flight of birds, the footsteps of every animal within your vicinity, and the gushing waterfall hitting the surface below. the muted thoughts of people, all with voices to scream yet defiance against authority means death, so they choose to silence their cries for help. the stillness of the night, where you can faintly hear the howls of your kin from afar, reminding you of past battles won and lost.

but somewhere in the distant memory of your past, you miss the complaints of a certain boy whose voice never seemed to shut the hell up.

your words, not mine.

he used to be so loud, crying even whilst he slept. whining and complaining about how you imprisoned him in this otherworldly forest of yours, yet he shuts his mouth after being reminded of his reality of being a casualty to those he comes across.

a puppet gone mad, out of its master's control, strings tangled.

"you're not here to be tamed, brat."

"then why are you keeping me here?" kunikuzushi glares at you from the other side of the stone table, a hand gripping the knife you casually gave him so he could practice on his own.

you always seemed to be his dummy target though. not that he could hurt you in the slightest, the gap between your capabilities is that of the height you need to reach celestia. it's quite an exaggeration, but far from a lie.

"so you don't go around accidentally causing more unintentional problems. learn how to use your brain or something, you have one for a reason," was always your answer to his repeated question, laughing at the way his face contorted to apprehension. "i don't have the patience to shape you into whatever humane person or puppet your creator wants you to be. so i'm doing you a favor by letting you be whatever the fuck you want to be. kill whoever you want, destroy whatever you want, go pour your anger as much as you want. it matters little to me."

"doesn't that contradict your past obligation as inazuma's former defender?"

"exactly what the title says," you shrug your shoulders, throwing your hands up without energy, "that is in the past. inazuma's concerns do not matter to me now that my god is gone."

placing your chin on your palm, you send him a knowing smirk, a sight he realizes that he does not like, "you can destroy this nation all you want and i wouldn't mind one bit. it would be interesting to see you as a god and not just a little brat."

he would always grow silent after the nth time you had this conversation, pondering, imagining the imagery of what you just said. it's almost as if he's in a trance.

the silence of someone having an inner conflict in more ways than one, is something that you would say is better than the silence when someone is mourning.

because this kind of silence is always followed by chaos.

"oh? where do you think you're going, little doll?"

"stop calling me that," he hissed, turning his head to glare at you.

for some reason, the change in his personality these past few months was refreshing, so unlike the whiny little brat who used to cower away from you. the same brat who's always frustrated at himself.

but at the same time, it's such a shame that he didn't change his ways. still reckless and careless.

this recklessness will kill him someday, you thought.

"well, answer the question."

he falters, taking a few steps away from you when you tilt your head, urging—demanding for his answer. he still couldn't look you straight in the eyes when you become like this—when your voice goes a little deep, eyes staring him down and the authority in the way you poised yourself.

"to the fatui. i'm not going to let myself rot in here."

"you're a puppet, you're not supposed to rot."

he scoffs at the comment, vile irritation building up his throat at the way you remained unbothered, almost uncaring, indifferent and as if this means little to you. you act more like a puppet than he does, he realizes.

he hates that about you.

it's ironic. he's the same way, more venomous through his words—but with you, it's like talking to a stone cold wall.

"i'm leaving to snezhnaya."

"hm," you turn your head to the vast forest, shrouded with tall trees and thick fog—wait, when did the fog get so thick? kunikuzushi was so sure he could still see far and beyond the first few layers of those trees, why did the forest suddenly seem so eerie and… predatory.

"you can leave."

"huh?" he stares at you in disbelief, with a hint of sadness.

are you… really going to let him go that easily?

for some reason, despite the freedom given to him, he wanted you to stop him.

"find the exit yourself," your trademark grin appeared on your face, challenging and daring him to do so. it's infuriating, makes him feel like you're looking down at him and his capabilities. "if you successfully get out of this forest, then i trust that you can handle the world outside and beyond this nation."

i take back my words, he scoffs, i don't need their permission to leave. they can't stop me.

"i don't need another petty test of yours, i can take care of my own," he sharply turns away and into the direction he swore was the exit just a moment ago.

"oh, trust me, doll," your giggles echoed through the forest, ringing in his ears for the last time, way too close than from where you just stood a moment ago.

"the forest is a cruel place to get lost in."

and since then, your abode returned to the way it was.

placid, motionless, and isolated. just like how it should be.

yet you look forward to the day that he comes back crying—you stifle a laugh at how pitiful he would look—scrunched nose and furrowed eyebrows, grumbling curses to the world as he slumps down on the ground, hissing at you as you tease him for being a baby before he falls asleep on the sprawled blanket you have in the living room of your cabin. your spirit watches over his sleep, dispersing his nightmares before it can even take root in his mind and blanketing him with your tail despite his inability to feel the change in the temperature.

no, he's too deep in his sleep to ever catch you doing such things.

some days, you'd sense a feeling of fear crawling inside the back of your head. it takes a form of visions and voices. it would whisper using the boy's voice, show images using his face, speak in a way he does. it's times like this that you take pride in your strength. you know better than to crumble against fear and its illusions. such emotions are not strong enough to push through the height of your defenses that were built from piles upon piles of lost loved ones.

yet your heart clenches at the thought of this boy, robbed of the opportunity to grow properly, succumbing to the demons of this world.

it's a shame that even you can't be the person to guide him, for you are the same as he.

you can only hope that he finds himself in his journey.

"ah, it seems like it's that time of the year once again."

you stretch your limbs with a pur-like groan, your tail swinging in anticipation behind you. now that the weariness from sleep had faded, your sharp eyes admire the red and orange colors blending within the forest, the sound of leaves crunching beneath your feet every step you take music to your ears and the cold breeze wafting in the air.

the season of fall always brings out the playful side of your soul.

your attentiveness is sharper than usual, eyes turning to every little bit of movement in your surroundings despite knowing that no threat can occur in your abode. you carved its landscape with your very own hand, grew each and every tree rooted on the ground, wrote protective spells into every tree bark to form your very own barrier, opened ponds and breathed life into its very ground through the leylines. it's your safe haven, nothing can disturb your peace and it is a part of you to an extent.

that's way, when a familiar presence stepped inside your abode with no struggles whatsoever, your ears perked up and tail sways in anticipation.

fall is indeed a season for farewells and reunions.

"you're back quite earlier than expected, did the world outside the forest scare you?" you needn't look to know that he's standing right at the entrance of your favorite clearing, your figure sat near the pond with your feet dipped into the clear water.

"you're exaggerating," he grumbles, footsteps getting louder and closer until he's close enough, stopping just next to you.

"most certainly not," you hummed softly, tilting your head up to look at him after a few hundred years of not seeing him. your ears twitched.

instantly, you know something is different about him.

"you've changed."

"hmp, perhaps," he scoffs loudly, taking a seat beside you in a criss-cross position, slouching a little bit. he's barely looking at you, but that's not something new.

the way you imagined he would years ago.

"you're still grumpy though, might want to change that."

"you're still insufferable. i shouldn't have come back."

"yet you're here. i'm surprised you were able to enter without a problem. i was hoping the forest devoured you when you left. turns out you were able to get out, a shame," you sigh, "i should check on my barriers soon."

"you—" he hisses—the same way you adored, like an angry kitten—turning his head to glare at you, forehead scrunched in irritation, "so you don't even know if anyone gets caught in your shithole? did you assume i just up and died right before i got out?"

he can feel something warm in his chest at the way you laughed freely.

he hasn't heard that sound for a long time.

"you're alive though," he groaned at the familiar sly smile on your face. "besides, i wouldn't have let you go if i didn't know that you'd make it out alive."

"you would in a heartbeat."

"hm, if it were someone else, perhaps. but not you," you turn your head back to the pond, a contented smile on your face, voice unintentionally turning soft, "not my brat."

those words were the key to kunikuzushi's vulnerable state.

the silence that followed after your words was… unnerving, for some reason.

yet you felt as if you should give him the time he needs to gather himself, to give him a choice to talk or to keep things to himself. it stayed like that for a while, tuning into the sound of birds above and humming to make him more comfortable—or was it for your own comfort that you tried to fill in the silence? the feeling of being unsure is so… uneasy.

why am i doing so much for his comfort?

just when you're about to speak to change the topic, he opens his mouth—and he speaks.

piles and piles of words upon words, like a scroll being unravel down the flight of stairs to the narukami shrine. his voice, clumsy and blurry words as it may be, sings to you tragedies in a kabuki performance. he opens his doors to you and only you, almost breaking down on the spot if it wasn't for his ridiculous pride—you surmise that you may have influenced him in that case. it plays a theatrical scene that takes eternity to finish dialogues upon dialogues.

he's a puppet whose strings are cut short, but he picks himself up, tangling the fragile strings in the process.

and you are his only audience.

you're his standing ovation when no one bothers to stop and see him for what he is.

perhaps, you are more suited to be sat beside him, joining in his play instead of just a witness—because you are more than just some random bystander who happens to pass by a puppet show.

it took him a while to finish his story. just like any kabuki, time is crucial in the production, and kunikuzushi is a person who barely had the time to see the world in its purest form. yet time is also what brought him his demise.

the gods did not give him enough time to feel and learn.

when he finishes, the sun has already hid itself behind the ocean of trees and the sky is blanketed by a starry void.

a false sky, he said in one of his stories.

somehow, kunikuzushi's head ended up on your lap—he dares not to bring attention to this fact, he already feels embarrassed as it is.

"how did it felt?"

he stares at you with a grain of salt.

"to what? to almost die? quite the experience, i didn't enjoy falling head first though. would you like to try?"

"no, dumbass," he hisses when your finger flicks against his forehead. before he could even cover the assaulted area, you swat his hand away to replace it with yours. an uncharacteristic gentle touch on his skin, a caress. he resists the urge to melt towards your hand. "how did it feel like to almost have something within your reach but realize it won't do you any better? to learn how to decide for yourself, for the better, after experiencing bitter defeat?"

he purses his lips, turning away from your direction to stare at the pond reflecting the dark sky.

your hand slips across his forehead to his hair, gently caressing the familiar stresses—familiar stresses that reminded you so much of a former dear friend that you lost long ago. you didn't expect him to answer your question yet, to push forward for an answer would be adding salt to an open wound.

and the last thing you want to do is give him a reason to pull away.

"you know, if i was ei, i would have chosen you to rule with me."

"stop saying things to make me feel better, that's not like you," he scoffs—unbeknownst to the way his cheeks turn a little warmer.

such a human feature to have.

"i would love to see you be the god you wanted to be," you continued to mutter with a soft smile, brushing your fingers through his hair.

"stop it."

"i would watch you build yourself higher and have greater goals as a god."

"what is wrong with you!?" he quickly pushes himself off of you, whipping his head to look at you with a bewildered face. "are you out of your mind!?" he glares at the way your smile turns sly.

"i would have chosen you, someone with no human heart yet able to feel what it's like to be human," your hand pats his head playfully, snickering when he swats it away roughly.

"you," growling, he turns away from your direction.

"but alas, i'm not patient enough to baby you or anyone else," you shake your head shamefully, shrugging your shoulders. "go do whatever the fuck you want yourself, learn shit for yourself. but that does not mean you can do it alone, dumbass."

"why are you talking like this?" he mumbles, but you can see the way his shoulder trembled in the slightest, no doubt nibbling on his bottom lip to stop himself from something as 'pitiful' as crying. "shut up, i came here to rest, not to listen to your nonsense musings. i had enough of that already."

"well then," you reach out to his shoulder, gently directing him back on your lap. he faces you this time, eyes clenched tight to avoid looking at you, his only pillar in this world. he feels too light headed, whether if it's from your words or the feeling of finally resting after so many years of suffering, he's not too sure. he'd deny the former with everything he has though. but he cannot deny that he feels safe in your haven, here in the comfort of your arms.

"rest, you can think of the next step after you get some shuteye, don't make me knock you out myself."

he clicked his tongue, before it became quiet again.

this time, it's a comfortable silence. nothing like the tension from the first time you met him, nothing like the few times he spent quietly sobbing on your shoulder every time he awakes from a nightmare—nothing like the eerie quietude in the middle of the eye of the storm, waiting for the real disaster to come surging. soon, the boy falls asleep to the warm and loving touch on his head.

in the silence, you whisper words that you could not tell him.

"i would've gone through celestia and the abyss to give you a heart."

you, despite claiming that you will not baby him, held him in a way a parent would towards their child. with gentle hands and feathery touches, and a heart that you would give him if you could.

taglist: crossed out names mens i can't tag you oof

@thedianaclark @blockswon @thenyxsky @crazypriestess @someone-with-wild-imagination @koi-chairowo @shizunxie @smirpsmirp @brookeisqweer @mariataliya @saoiirsee @atsuki-mitsuri @camzpetite @fandangotales @genshinfinatic @chimsblogg @nette-yang @vienettacream @notyuki @shiragi2 @atsukawolfcat @frzenhans @kkazuyass @tartarsaucechi1de @nunontherun @a-simp-with-daddyissues @thetruepair

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catsteeth · 3 months

Text

Sugar & Violence

Podrick Payne x reader

+:✿ Chapter 5 ✿:+ : To The Wall

chapter index | next chapter

Summary: You’re a Mormont being held hostage by House Lannister. You are acting now as the Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell, whom you’ve grown quite close with. But it seems that a squire has caught your attention as you have caught his.

CW: afab reader, MDNI, pining, queer unresolved romantic tension, unspoken confession, threats of violence, misogyny, mention of violence, mention of alcohol consumption, mention of NSFW themes.

Word Count: 4.9k

It had been a few days since Joffrey's murder.

You had spent those days locked in your chamber for the entirety of those two days. You spent it laying about and hoping that Podrick had received your orders and followed them.

How silly of you, you thought. Laying about thinking of a man, worrying about a man. How dreadfully pathetic.

You hoped that the news of Joffrey's murder traveled North to your family. Your cousin, and your father. You hoped they heard it, it would satisfy them at least.

But mostly you thought of Podrick. What he said before he left, he “wanted to marry you”. What would that have looked like? ‘(Y/N) Payne’, it sounded right to you, felt like bliss. You imagined he and you back on the Island. There’d be no need to sneak and hide, you could sleep in the same bed and sleep til the late morning without fearing anyone would catch you.

Maybe you’d even carry a babe in your belly…

Look at you, a silly girl twirling her hair thinking of boys as you laid on your bed. Now wasn’t the time for that, no now was the time to do everything you could to get back to him.

Just as you thought it, a guard holding a tray of food entered your chambers. “Supper time, bear bitch.” He said about sliding your tray across the floor.

“Wait,” You called out as you sat up on your bed.

“You aint got nothing I wanna hear.” He said pushing your tray across the floor.

You walked towards him, your hand trailing down the cleavage exposed from your dress. “I might have something you want to feel.” Your seductive facade was clearly working as the man closed the door behind him. “It’s been awfully lonely in this room, relieving myself on my pillows simply won’t do.” You whined as you trailed your other hand down his chest.

He looked around the room to make sure he wasn’t being set up, “You any good at it?” The man smirked,

“Better than any whore in any brothel. And cheaper too, infact I won’t cost a thing.” You batted your eyelashes and faked a giggle.

He cupped your chin, “How about your mouth?” You took his thumb and sucked on it, the man groaned “Hells, alright then get on with it-”

You immediately stopped and looked at him, your facade dropping, “Oh but for that you’ll need to help me with one thing.”

The man groaned and whined about it but eventually gave in. After all, he was already half way hard.

You made him smuggle you down to the dungeons in a dark cloak. Down to the cells where they kept your lover's former Lord.

As you stepped inside the dungeon cell you removed your hooded cloak.

“I must speak with you.” You spoke with intention and direct purpose.

“Not very smart of you. You were accused just as I was.” He was clearly upset, being locked away in a dungeon does not tend to bring out the best in people.

“I am to be released soon enough.” You were already growing annoyed by the way this conversation was going.

“Not quite. You’re still in King's Landing.” He was right of course “Besides if two accused come together as one person might talk. ‘What other King will they kill?’” He spoke in a mocking tone.

“I didn’t kill a king. Why would I risk my Lady’s position?” You should have, but at that point, your attention was solely focused on keeping you and Podrick together. Maybe you were being selfish.

“Because by letting her marry him, you’d be risking her life.” You felt a comfort in knowing someone else knew and recognized his cruelty. Most were too scared to express it.

You looked down and rationalized, “She is a woman grown. Capable of deciding her own path. As are you.” You looked back at him, ready to return the accusation, “Joffrey was quite cruel towards you.”

“As he was to most.”

“Especially you.” You said stepping closer to him, “No one would have blamed you for it.”

“Oh but they could.” He said, holding up his hands in chains.

You shook your head, “I’ve not come here to argue with you.”

“What did you come for? And how did you? The guard-“

You interrupted, knowing your time was limited, “I told him I’d suck his cock if he let me in.”

He chuckled “Not quite faithful to our mutual friend are you?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“How do you-“

He interrupted you, “Please, I am not blind. Love comes from the eyes. I could see it in him and you whenever you found one another.” His gaze was softer, as if he knew how dear you were to Podrick. He shrugged, “That and I've seen him shuffling out of your chambers in the early morning.”

“I’m not going to suck the guard's cock.” You shook your head and looked down almost ashamed you’d even told him that you would. You knew you wouldn’t, ever. “Once I leave here, I’m going to tell him if he doesn’t forget it happened I'll tell the queen he let me out, and I’ve a witness now.” You said looking at him.

“You are smart.” He nodded,

“I'm terrified.” Your eyes focused on him, “Never been terrified before. But I am… now.” You huffed, “Not even for me. Cersei could throw me in here for a hundred years and I'd be content as long as I know I did what I could to free him from this place.” Your words were much more sweet and sincere than Tyrion would have expected.

He looked confused, “A squire. A loyal one I will give him that. But a girl of an honorable house name… picks a squire, I don’t understand.”

“it’s not meant for you to understand.” You said defensively, then you sat on a crate that was in the room, you looked down and smiled, “He was kind. The only kind man I'd ever known. His kindness was pure of any ambition or desire. He was kind to me because he wanted to be. Even when he saw me being unpleasant and harsh… He still was kind to me.” You finished sounding sorrowful almost.

“He was a good lad.” He nodded, his face was one of understanding.

“He is. And right now all I am concerned about is where he is going?” Your voice was quiet and soft.

“You think I know?” His cynical facade, still hanging on.

“You owe him your life. Of course you know.” Your eyes looked desperate, and Tyrion could see it.

He looked down, “My brother Jamie has sent him to squire Brienne of Tarth. That’s all that I know.”

“I can work with that.” You smiled slightly.

As your conversation with Tyrion was coming to a close the dungeon door opened.

“Alright birdie, your times up with the imp. And your time with me is about to start.” The man was grinning ear to ear, it made Tyrion wince.

You didn’t look at the man at all, not acknowledging his existence at all “Thank you.” You said to Tyrion before you stood and turned to the man in the doorway. “I’m not touching you and if you so much as whine I will tear your pathetic excuse of a cock off and stuff it in your mouth so that you cannot speak when the queen questions why you let someone accused of murdering her son out of her chamber and into the cell of another accused murder.” Your voice was deep and venomous.

Tyrion cracked a smile as the man stood there processing what you’d said.

One he did after a few moments of silence he took you by your arm and dragged you back to your chambers, huffing and puffing like a child the whole way.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

A few days earlier,

Just as Tyrion had said Jamie assigned Podrick to Brienne to aid her in her quest to find the Stark sisters and bring them to safety.

Podrick was heartbroken without you, and without the certainty that he’d find you anytime soon. However his one solace was that he was to serve the very woman that had inspired such happiness in you. When you saw her you saw a bit of yourself in her. You saw a great warrior and someone worth something. Podrick was proud to serve such a Lady.

“I don’t need a squire.” Brienne said annoyed that one was even being pushed onto her.

“Of course you do.” Jaime said

Brienne’s annoyance only escalated, “He’ll slow me down.”

“My brother owes him a debt, he’s not safe here. You’re keeping him from harm. It’s chivalry.” Jamie smiled at her annoyance.

Podrick felt the need to interject, “I won’t slow you down, ser–” Brienne looked at him with daggers in her eyes and Jamie looked at him like he was mad, “My lady…” He attempted to correct his mistake. “I promise I’ll serve you well.” He nodded,

“See? He’s a good Lad. You’ll get along.” Jamie said, patting him on the back.

As their journey began Podrick realized two things. Firstly he did not learn anything in Lord Tyrion's service. Especially how to ride a horse,

“Come on move,” Podrick said to his brown horse, trying to get it to comply with his directions that he clearly did not know how to give.

Brienne looked over at him with irritation, “Didn’t they teach you how to ride a horse?” she questioned.

He continued to struggle with his reigns, “Yes, my Lady when I was young. There wasn’t much call for Lord Tyrion, though. He preferred litters.”

“Perhaps you should have stayed with him.” She said clearly unsatisfied with Jamie’s ‘gift’ “It’s not going to be a pleasant journey for you. It could take weeks to get to the wall, depending on the weather.”

His horse made its own way off the path and back on it again at its own leisure. “That’s a long way off,” He said, hiding his slight excitement as best he could. If they were going to the wall there was a chance he’d see you if you did as you said and escaped. Or at least he could try to convince your father to send aid.

“Well Lady Sansa's brother is at Castle Black. If I were her that’s where I’d go.” She looked back at Podrick again, rolling her eyes, “Feel free to stop at any point.”

“Never, my Lady. I am your squire.” he attempted to say it with conviction but his constant struggle made his tone waver.

“I’ve made it this far in the world without a squire. Don’t see why I need one now.”

“All knights have squires, my Lady.”

“I’m not a knight. And I’m not a slaver, either. I don’t own you.”

“I swore an oath, my Lady.” His conviction was strong.

“I am releasing you from that oath.” She looked back at him, noticing he was still there, “That means you can leave.”

“I know.”

“What do you think will happen if you leave?” She raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious why someone would want to stay with her.

“They’ll say I wasn’t a very good squire.” The truth was the past hour proved to him that he couldn’t make it out here on his own. And if he were going to find you he would need to learn to stand on his two feet first.

The second thing he had learned however, was how similar you and Brienne were. Though of course he preferred you to her. She was direct, stubborn, and clearly loyal.

It made him more inclined to tolerate her words.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

A day after your meeting with Tyrion, Margaery had snuck into your chamber as she often did now. You begged her to find more information about where Podrick might have gone, the next day she'd already found an answer to your question.

“Podrick left with Brienne of Tarth. Jamie Lannister commanded him to squire for her, aid her efforts to find Sansa Stark.” Her words were heavy as if she’d known something you didn’t.

“What is it?” You asked,

“I am to tell you that you may resume your duties as my lady.” Your eyes lit up and hers darkened, “You have been cleared as a suspect.” She said, once again her voice and her face did not match the happiness of the news you’d received. “I found these last night.” She handed you clothing and armor, you recognized it. It was the very same armor that you’d arrived in Kings Landing with. Not your best armor but you took it, happily.

“Thank you. Thank you for what you’ve done for me, Margaery.” You said sincerely, smiling at her.

“So you are leaving me?” She asked,

You looked confused, she must've known it was coming, “I must. There’s nothing left here for me.” You said, your brows furrowed.

“There’s me. Your dearest friend.” She held onto your hand with a tight grip.

“Margaery, Pod-” You began to explain but she interrupted.

“My last two husbands were murdered. I could have run to the high garden but I didn't.”

“You’ve a goal, and I’ve mine.” You tried to reason with her.

She shook her head as if she were shaking away her thoughts from it, “I know. I know. Love.” She said as if the word were a silly concept, something foreign. “I just wish you’d choose me.”

You leaned into her, “This place is not safe. for me or for you for that matter. You should leave, marry someone who you love.” You tried to have her see reason.

She shook her head, looking at you with eyes filled with an emotion you did not understand. “I can’t marry someone I love.” she looked down at her hand hold yours then back into your eyes, “I am going to be the Queen.”

You nodded, she had made her choice and you made yours, “And I cannot always be your lady- Handmaiden.”

“Why not?” You were about to open your mouth to explain but she stopped you, forcing a false smile. “You are right. It’s best we leave our girlhood behind us and realize we’ve stepped into our womanhood. Silly dreams and feelings cannot hold such weight. But, for whatever it may be worth, however little. I enjoyed the time," She held your hand even tighter, "The time we spent laughing.” You smiled at her, you understood now. But still, I could not give her what she wanted. “The Guards by the stables leave it unattended for a few minutes each night, when the moon is highest. That’s your best chance.” She said, slightly tearing up.

“Goodbye, and thank you.” You said, smiling warmly attempting to not cry.

“Goodbye, and thank you.” She repeated back to you.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You did as she said and you left that night.

You stole a Lannister horse, being sure to remove its colors and saddle from it but that meant you’d have to ride it bare. ‘They hang horse thieves,’ you thought. So you were sure to steal a sword while you at it.

You had been riding quite a long time, didn’t know how long even but you knew the sun had come and gone a few times, and now were quite hungry. You found a nearby inn. You knew that eventually they’d throw their left overs out in the back eventually.

As you hanged around the back you let your new horse drink from a creek.

“Hello, there.” You heard behind you, you turned around and saw a short and stout boy.

“Hello…” You said with narrow eyes and a furrow brow.

“You want to come in? It’s much warmer inside, there’s ale, water, kidney pie-” You could tell he was a talker and cut him off before he could keep going.

“I don’t have any money.” You shook your head, “Just watering the horse, I’ll be on my way.” You said looking back at your horse.

“Your armor is quite nice, are you a Knight?” The boy continued to question you,

“Women cannot be knights.” You said not looking back at him.

“What's the bear for?” He asked innocently,

You thought for a moment, you couldn’t admit who you were, “House Brune of the CrownLands.”

“Looks like a Mormont sigil.” He said,

You shook your head, “They’re loyal to the traitors from Winterhell.” You were good at lying, but somehow you couldn’t quite say that without your voice wavering.

“It is a Mormont sigil, isn’t it?” He said. You thought you’d been found out by someone loyal to the crown. So naturally you took hold of your sword's handle, “I didn’t mean to offend!” He said, raising his hands. You couldn’t bring yourself to escalate the situation anymore than that.

You took your hand away from your sword, satisfied he wasn’t a threat. You turned back to the horse once again.“Just let me be on my way.”

“You’re a long way out from the North.” He said concerned, and you didn’t respond. “You want a hot meal?” He asked kindly.

You looked at him, your eyes a bit softer now. “I told you I don’t have any money.”

He shrugged, “I am happy to give it.” He looked around to make sure no one else could hear him say whatever he was going to, “Starks need a loyal ally.” You nodded and he went back into the Inn for a few minutes before returning with food wrapped in a cloth.

“Thank you.” You nodded at him as you took the food.

“What was your name?”

You thought for a moment, then deciding you could tell him. It was the least you could do. “(Y/N) Mormont.”

“I knew I was right.” He said with a smile. You smiled back as you ate the pastry.

The two of you talked, or more like he talked at you for some time and you went on your way.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Little did you know that a mere few hours later Podrick and Brienne would be stopping into that very same place.

As Brienne and Podrick sat at a table. She dug into the pie in front of her “A bit of comfort never hurt anyone. We’ve been sleeping in ditches. I think we can treat ourselves with a featherbed for the night and a hot meal not cooked by you.” She said,

“Couldn’t agree more, my Lady.” Podrick said defeatedly as he drank the ale in his cup.

“Just don’t expect silk underclothes. Not working for your former lord anymore.”

“Yes, my Lady.” He began to drink even more of his ale,

Brienne took his cup away, “Don’t get drunk,” she snapped at him.

“No, my Lady.” He submitted,

That very same short and stout boy began talking to Brienne the very same way as he did you.

“That’s nice armor, are you a Knight?” He asked innocently.

“No.” She was frustrated by the assumption.

“Oh it’s just people with nice armor are usually knights. Generally speaking. Funny enough I saw another Lady in armor, she wasn’t from around here there. From King’s Landing though, aren’t you?” Brienne looked at him with disdain and Podrick looked at him uncomfortably. “From there myself originally, flea bottom born and bred.” He continued, “What brings you to these parts?”

“We’re looking for someone. A girl, tall, red hair, very pretty. Her name is Sansa Stark.” Brienne got directly to the point. Podrick looked at her empathically, but concerned.

“Stark? What like them lot from Winterhell? Ain't seen anyone like that. Them lot are traitors. No room for traitors in here.” He feigned his loyalty to the crown as he picked himself up and left Brienne and Podrick on their own.

Podrick found it difficult to hear such things about a place you were so loyal to.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

As Brienne and Podrick left the inn, Brienne noticed Podrick’s worried look as he readied their horses.

“What?” She asked devoid of any emotion.

“It’s nothing, my lady.” He shook his head,

“You wouldn’t screw your face up if it was nothing.”

“Don’t want to offend, my lady. Truly I don’t”

“You’re not interesting enough to be offensive.”

“The Lannisters want Lady Sansa. The Lannisters have money. People kill for money. I don’t think that we should be telling people about us trying to find Lady Sansa.”

“My lady, My Lord.” He got the attention of Pod and Brienne, “You seem like a proper lady, someone who can be trusted… I don’t know a Sansa Stark. But I know her sister, Arya.”

Brienne furrowed her brow, "No one's seen Arya Stark since her father was beheaded. She's presumed dead."

"She weren't when I last spoke to her...heading up north with the Night's Watch. She was all dressed up as a boy...going by the name Arry. "

Her interest peaked, "So what happened to her? The quick version."

"The Lannisters took us prisoner. We escaped. The Brotherhood took us prisoner. They 'sold' me to the innkeep. They were gonna sell Arya to her mother at Riverrun, along with another prisoner: big ugly fellow, foul mouth and a face like a half-burnt ham. Not friendly." He shook his head,

“Thank you,” Brienne said,

“You know it’s funny, It’s not everyday you meet a Lady in armor. And it’s not everyday you meet two in one day.” He said, Pod and Brienne losing interest quickly, “And this one was a lot like you too, My Lady. Not very friendly at first,” Brienne looked at him, “Meaning no offense. But once I found out she was a Mormont she was pleasant enough.” Podrick looked at him as if lighten had struck him, Brienne noticed and looked at him strangely,

“What’d she look like?” He asked, Brienne looking at him even stranger.

The boy described you, exactly, there was no mistake.

“Did she say where she was going?” Podrick continued to press him uncharacteristically

“No, my Lord. I asked and she wouldn’t say.” He said,

Podrick looked defeated and went back to reading the horse, but Brienne kept her eyes on him, curious as to what that meant to him.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

On your long journey you stumbled into a camp, but not any camp. You could tell just by looking at the boys that they were Knights Watch recruits.

This had to have been a sign from the Gods. Safer passage North and saver passage to your father. As you rode up you were eyeballed by all the new recruits, unfamiliar with who you were.

“Hello pretty girl,” A man said,

“Bring me, Yoren.” You spoke confidently and coldy.

“Now is that a sweet way to ask?” The same man asked a shorter man beside him.

“No, not sweet at all.” The short man said.

A younger man with short hair behind them spoke up, “She’s wearing Mormont armor.”

You sat up tall on your horse, “My father is Jeor Mormont. I am (Y/N) Mormont. Now bring me Yoren.” You reasserted,

“Yes, My Lady.” The short man said before rushing to find him.

Soon enough Yoren was with helding you and dismounting your horse. “Lady Mormont.” He said happily enough for such a grumpy old man. He had known you since you were born.

“Yoren.” You said with a smile,

“What can we offer ye?” His arms crossed and his eyes softened towards you,

You sighed knowing he’d not want what you were going to propose, “I want to go to the wall. To Castle Black.” You nodded.

“Well, I think you know better than anyone that a lady can not join the Knights watch.” He teased,

“I’m not looking to join it. I am looking for my father.”

His tone shifted slightly to a deeper one, “It’s unusual, and dangerous road, that's for sure.” He sighed and looked down, then back at you, “But your father would bury me deep in the ground if I didn’t.” He smirked,

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Weeks had passed. Pod and Brienne’s journey was taking a hard turn. Everything had gone wrong.

They’d found Arya like the boy at the Inn said, but when Brienne fought the Hound for Arya they’d lost her. She didn’t want the protection to begin with, the entire thing hurt and frustrated Brienne more than she knew to describe.

So naturally she took it out on Podrick.

“Will we head North at some point?” Podrick asked about setting up camp, “You said Sansa had a brother at Castle Black. We’re a few days' ride from the kings road. It’ll take us-”

“Us?” Brienne asked, her voice devoid of all emotion, “The only reason you’re here is because Jaime Lannister told me you weren’t safe in the Capital.” Podrick stood still, unsure of what to do or say, “You’re hundreds of miles from King’s Landing.” She said removing her armor. “No one knows what you look like, no one cares. You’re safe.”

“But I am your squire.” He couldn’t let his opportunity go, to prove himself to himself, and to you.

“Do you even know what a squire is?” She looked at him with a look of contempt.

“An attendant to a knight?” He looked confused,

“I’m not a knight, that means you’re not a squire.”

“Well where will I go?”

“I don’t care, I'm not your mother.” She practically spat her words at him,

“You swore to find the Stark girls.”

“I found Arya. She didn’t want my protection.”

“Sansa still might.” He attempted to calm her,

“Will you shut your mouth?” She snapped at him, “I didn’t ask for your advice. I don't want you to follow me because I’m not a leader. All I ever wanted was to fight for a lord I believed in. The ones are dead and the rest are monsters.” She scowled as she looked off into the distance and then looked back at Podrick, “And all your lords, they’ve all been so kind to you.” She stood and walked away, “All except me,” She took a breath and looked back at him, “I’m sorry you have to squire such a nasty person.”

“That girl he talked about in the Inn. I knew her well. She met you once, and couldn't stop talking about you.” He continued to set up camp, “I’m not sorry. You’re the best fighter I’ve ever seen. You beat the hound. I am proud to be your squire.”

She looked at him, “I’m sorry I am always snapping at you.”

“If you didn’t snap at me I wouldn’t learn anything.” He said with a strange optimism,

“You want to be a Knight, Pod?”

He looked at her, his eyes filled with excitement “Yes.”

She nodded and sat down, pointed to the armor she wanted him to take off of her, “Starting tomorrow, we’ll train with a sword twice a day. Before we ride in the morning and after you make camp in the evening. And I am going to show you how to ride properly.” He finished taking off her armor for her, “I can’t knight you, but I can teach you to fight.”

“I suppose that’s more important.” He smiled ear to ear. “You weren’t a knight, but you were a Kingsgaurd to Renly Baratheon, weren’t you?” He questioned, genuinely curious.

“I was.” She said,

“Lord Tyrion said he was a good man.”

“He was.” You could hear her grief,

“How did you end up serving Renly?” Podrick asked as he sat beside her.

Brienne hesitated for a moment but began her story, “When I was a girl my father held a ball. I was his only living child so he wanted to make a good match for me. I didn’t want to go but he dragged me. And I loved it.” Podrick smiled, she reminded him of you. “None of the boys noticed how mulish and tall I was. They shoved each other when they thought it was their turn to dance.” She smiled looking back at her own story, “I’d never been so happy.” Her smile faded, “Till I saw a few of the boys snickering.” Podricks smile faded as well, “And then they all started to laugh, and couldn't keep the game up any longer. Brienne the beauty they called me- great joke. And I realized I was the ugliest girl alive. A great lumbering beast.” You could feel her pain just in her words alone. “I tried to run away but Renly Baratheon took me into his arms. ‘Don’t let them see your tears,’ he told me ‘They’re nasty little shits, and nasty little shits aren’t worth crying over.’” Her smile returned again, “He danced with me and none of the boys could say a word. He was the King's brother after all.” Podrick smiled back,

“But wasn’t he… Lord Tyrion said that he was,” Podrick asked awkwardly,

“Yes Pod, he liked men. I am not an idiot. He didn’t love me. He didn’t want me. He danced with me because he was kind.” She explained.

She looked down, thinking back to the memories she had with him,“Nothings more hateful than failing to protect the one you love.”

Those words stuck with Podrick,

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

NOTE: Timelines shimelines amiright?

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