no because nobody understands how hard it was to find x reader fics of anyone in the gaang or atla fandom in general before this movie came out. now there’s new fics coming out daily. I USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS‼️
"don't worry scientists will invent a way to solve climate change!" They already did... several times over... just the people who didnt like their solutions (cough cough oil companies) had enough cash to shut them up both legally and illegally
➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: (1) Can you please write sfw and nsfw headcanons for jugram, yhwach (separately) x fem reader? Thanks ❤️❤️ (2) Hello, how are you? Can I request headcanons (sfw and nsfw) for yhwach? reader being your wife?Thank you so much - @akira-yoshida
➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: I felt like I took too long to answer this due to the length of time it has been sitting in my asks. Apologies.
➳❥ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: (18+) content, GN!reader in SFW section, fem!reader in NSFW section, breeding, some talks about impregnating, asphyxiation, spanking, rough sex, dom!Yhwach, sub!reader, fingering, power dynamics, possessiveness
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
「 ❤︎ SFW Headcanons ❤︎ 」
˚₊‧꒰ა This man falling in love with you was not on his list of things to conquer in the upcoming thousands of years, but when he did fall in love, he added you to his list. To him, loving you was never a fleeting moment sort of attraction, it was like any other challenge he faced—something he must overcome.
˚₊‧꒰ა When it comes to Yhwach having you at his side, he ensures that you, most of all, understand the status you hold and how to properly command it. Use it to your benefit and never submit in fear. He wants you to understand that you are his equal—a title he doesn’t take lightly—and demonstrate this to his followers. “You must know your worth when you stand at my side,” he’ll whisper to you.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Do not forget who you are,” he once told you after someone had the audacity to question your position. “And do not allow others to forget, either.” There was no room for doubt—you were his equal, his other half.
˚₊‧꒰ა Now, any romantic gesture from this man is never done lightly, even if it were to be executed in public, before his followers—they know better than to comment. His voice is an octave softer, such as his eyes, but his arms around your waist are anything but gentle, more firm with possessiveness.
˚₊‧꒰ა His jealousy is barely there. At the same time, he doesn’t want to appear overprotective and the annoying type of lover who watches your every move. There is a level of trust he bestows upon you, so don’t break it. But he can’t help but feel irritated whenever a lower-rank officer stands too close, breathes in your direction, makes you laugh and smile a bit too much, or addresses you without your titles.
˚₊‧꒰ა He wants his empire to see and know, not by only mere whispers, that he has chosen someone to stand at his side in the new world. His kisses and touches are possessive, but not the frightening kind. The ones that are domineering, wanting you to understand that he is yours, and you are his.
˚₊‧꒰ა His decision to be with you was not something to be viewed lightly. He meant to be with you to the very end of all time. There was no backing out or breaking up. It was until death do you part. That’s how he viewed his relationship with you. Whether you married him or not.
˚₊‧꒰ა Marriage to him wasn’t anything of great importance. Everyone already knew you belonged to him, so there wasn’t a need to question whether or not you were his. You. Were. His. However, should you request a wedding because you wanted the experience, it would be quite regal.
˚₊‧꒰ა Banners everywhere, the entire guards in their royal attire, assembled to witness their Empire tie himself to his partner. He will, for once, forgo the tattered cloak, as he waits for you at the altar to speak your vows and exchange rings. Might forgo rings and use the Quincy Cross instead.
˚₊‧꒰ა One minute you’re talking to the officer and the next, the poor Soldat is on their knees, grovelling, under the weight of Yhwach’s reiatsu. He’ll stand at the other end of the room or sit on his throne with a smug expression as he regards the insolent fool who thought for a second that they had a chance. You’re lucky if he doesn’t kill them right before your eyes in a blur.
˚₊‧꒰ა He probably has done so a few times when he was already in a terrible mood and saw some lowly, insolent fool trying their hand. Gone in an instant, while you’re left standing there, horrified, covered in specks of blood. The number of arguments you had with him for getting you messed up…you weren’t even fazed by him killing his men. You were accustomed to it by now.
˚₊‧꒰ა He demands loyalty. It is expected of anyone who enters his army, and you are not spared from his heavily implied demand for loyalty. “You are my equal. One I have not chosen lightly. I expect that you understand the weight this bears and what must be returned,” he states while he holds your chin and lifts your head upwards to meet his crimson eyes.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Do not mistake my silence for disinterest,” he mutters one evening after you questioned him about his lack of interest in your indulges. He was someone who valued efficiency, not priding himself on the unnecessary, but it changed when you entered the picture. However, he prefers to sit back and observe you in your element as you engage in your enjoyment. “If I did not care, I would not be here.”
˚₊‧꒰ა Very observant when it came to you, to the point that it might become unsettling due to his accuracy. Even before he lost his Almighty, he already had the inclination to what was wrong before you even came to him. And when you were troubled, he rarely spoke, letting you express yourself as you saw fit while he held you closely. A tender, “I am listening,” should you hesitate.
˚₊‧꒰ა In private, his touch withdraws from possessive and domineering to something reverent and tender—he has to opportunity to appreciate you in all your glory. “You feel soft. You feel like mine,” he muttered, lying on his bed, you’re the only person allowed in his room, he’ll hold you close and bask in the tranquillity. Your scent, your softness, your presence, your voice, everything about you.
˚₊‧꒰ა His touch would be slow, deliberate, and never rushed as he traces his fingers over your pulse as if he was memorising the rhythm, grounding himself in the fact that you were real and here with him still.
˚₊‧꒰ა He melts into your touch anytime you run your fingers through his hair, combing and brushing it out after he had a long, tedious day. Um…you’re not going to get through with styling it—that I am absolutely positive on. Help him wash and tidy his hair, keeping him groomed and pristine, and that’s all. Mayhap a single braid to display the true length and fullness of his hair.
˚₊‧꒰ა You did not soften him, nor did you change him. He remained the man he always was—unyielding, pragmatic, a force of nature that could not be swayed. But you gave him something he had not had in millennia: someone to return to.
˚₊‧꒰ა Yhwach was not a man of apologies, nor did he see the point in them. If he wronged you, he would rectify it through actions rather than words. A rare instance of compromise, and unspoken acknowledgement of fault—it was his way of making amends. Of course, this also included gifts and being spoilt.
˚₊‧꒰ა Nothing that ever came from Yhwach was done without meaning. Each gift provided carried a weight of something sentimental and meaningful—never a person to do things half-heartedly. If you received an entire library, he understood you enjoyed reading. If you had an entire wing of the palace dedicated to you, he respected that you appreciated tranquillity and not being bothered. “Tell me what you desire, and I will ensure you are well cared for, engel.”
˚₊‧꒰ა Please do not get injured. He already trusts you when you go out there to participate in recruiting Quincies and fighting other battles, knowing that you are strong and capable of holding your own ground. The last thing he needed to hear was you returning, injured or on the brink of death.
˚₊‧꒰ა The assailant will no longer be permitted to live—that much is understandable. As for you, he will never stop talking about how you got yourself wounded and nearly killed. Deep down, it’s his way of letting you know his concern, though he wouldn’t come outrightly and spill the beans. “Do you have any idea how foolish that was of you! If you had died—”
˚₊‧꒰ა You have to compete with Jugram on who can be more loyal to Yhwach. You also have to deal with Jugram cautiously nitpicking the things you do that he suspects will upset His Majesty, only for you to rub it in his face that you have permission. The bickering between you two is endless, and Yhwach gets a kick out of how you make his right-hand man composure falter.
˚₊‧꒰ა Uses sweet names with you. ‘Schatz, engel, liebchen, geliebter, Kleine,’ and so forth. They will be whispered sweetly into your skin as he holds you closely, shielding you from the world, wishing that you are not taken from him as so many others have in the past.
˚₊‧꒰ა “You are the only person I will ever tolerate,” he admitted once when you questioned why he allowed you to disrupt his calculated life. “The only anomaly I choose not to erase. You are meaningful to me.” It was not the traditional declaration of love one would expect, but from him, it was everything.
˚₊‧꒰ა When he speaks about the future of the empire, he always remembers to include you at his side in his declarations. Wherever he goes, you’re at his side, or a few steps behind him. He will seek your counsel when he requires the voice of someone who understands his ambitions.
˚₊‧꒰ა Values your insight apart from Haschwalth and will request your presence whenever meetings are being held. Speaking of which, his pride surges anytime he stands aside, observing you commanding his men with confidence. Accepting your role as a leader at his side.
˚₊‧꒰ა Like I mentioned, he is possessive and any chance he has to display it, he will not hesitate. One of his best ways to convey this is through kisses. They are rough and possessive—his grip on you tightens and becomes firm, unyielding as he pins you against any surface or to his chest. You’re not allowed to move until he’s finished.
˚₊‧꒰ა Loves to hear you speak about him. Basically glorifying and praising this man gets him turned on and pleased. He loves it (if you hadn’t noticed from the way everyone spoke highly of him). Once again, you’re only competition is Jugram.
「 ❤︎ NSFW Headcanons ❤︎ 」
˚₊‧꒰ა Okay, first and foremost, his cock is massive, thick with a prominent vein running along the underside. The length stretches far past what any normal person could handle comfortably, and the girth is there to ensure that you will feel every inch. He’s not for the faint-hearted.
˚₊‧꒰ა He possesses a dominating aura that naturally demands submission, his presence alone is enough to make you feel utter claim even before he lays a hand on you. Yhwach doesn’t submit and he isn’t, EVER. This man fucked like he was conquering you, like he had to claim you each time he took you.
˚₊‧꒰ა He commanded pleasure as if it was his divine right, orchestrating every cry, every gasp, every trembling orgasm with ruthless precision. He did not tolerate disobedience in bed—if you dared to tease or deny him, he would pin you down, wrench your legs apart, and fuck submission into your very core.
˚₊‧꒰ა He relished bending you to his will, your body trembling, voice hoarse from begging. His favourite thing to you would be having a hand wrapped around your throat, just to remind you of where you belonged and to who. And when he did take you, it would mostly be face-down, ass-up, where you had no choice but to take what he gave.
˚₊‧꒰ა Dirty talking was something he did all the time, but it was mostly done under his possessive streak. His words were always punctuated with, ‘Mine,’ or ‘My,’ anytime he was whispering filth in your ear. Enjoying the way you squeezed him tighter with each word that escaped his lips.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Look at you, ruined, dripping with my cum. You think you can take another man after this? You’re mine, Kleine (little one).” “You were made to take my cock, weren’t you? Every time I fuck you, you mould around me like you were built for it.” If you dared to argue, he would silence you with a harsh thrust, fucking the words out your throat until all you could do was moan his name.
˚₊‧꒰ა Yhwach isn’t someone who’s sex-craven, so it’s not all the time isn’t interested in indulging. So most of time, you’re the one to rile him up, get him in the mood and all worked up. Tease him under the table during a meeting, be a brat, wear something he’ll lose his mind over, display your confidence and authority, and you will get bent over the table or his throne.
˚₊‧꒰ა Whether he was frustrated or calm, his stamina was unmatched and there was no mercy in his pace. He was relentless—hard, fast, and deep with a rhythm that left no room for anything but pleasure and submission. He reaches deep and makes you feel him all the way in your tummy (you’re gonna have a tummy ache), and with the way he can go for hours, never tiring, you’re becoming an overstimulated, trembling mess.
˚₊‧꒰ა Yhwach never did things half-assed, so when he was going all out, he expected suitable responses. Meaning: moan, cry, whimper, whine, scream, sob, and beg. He wants to hear you sing as he pleasured you, thoroughly. “Just like that, my love. Let me hear you,” he’ll groan in delight as he pushes himself deeper.
˚₊‧꒰ა He’s a man who loves lingerie, and more the simpler pieces like the satin nightgowns with lace trimmings, perhaps a silk babydoll piece that compliments your figure. That’s not to say he doesn’t have an affinity for the lingerie that contains garter belts, more pieces and whatnot, he’s a simple man when it comes to what turns him on. You could wear anything, and he’s sprung—of course, he does have his preferences.
˚₊‧꒰ა Okay, so it is probably known that he has a HUGE thing for breeding. And for him, it’s done out of claiming you, and ruining you so no one else will ever satisfy you the way he does. Also, he doesn’t believe in making a mess when he’s so generous when it comes to giving you his cum. The least you could do is be stuffed by it.
˚₊‧꒰ა It is his way of marking you as well—the best way. He wants you dripping with a bulge in your belly, and one orgasm was never enough. He will fill you over and over until his cum was stuffed in every crevice. No part of you was going to be left untouched, which meant that if you were into anal, he’ll fill you up there as well and then stand back and watch as his cum dripped out your holes.
˚₊‧꒰ა Very quietly, he’ll reach out to run his fingers over your skin, smiling as you trembled from the sheer intensity of everything, and spread your legs wider so he can have a better view of his cum oozing out. His fingers would dip into the mess as he moved to finger your pussy into another orgasm as if the nth number you had wasn’t enough. He liked the sound of your heat squelching as he fucked his cum into you and into another orgasm.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Look at you, dripping like you still want me to stuff you more. You’d like that, won’t you?” he’ll murmur and tangle his fingers in your hair, forcing you to look at him. “You want more? Ruin this pussy and make it mine?”
˚₊‧꒰ა Now, with the breeding, Yhwach wouldn’t mind engaging for the sake of you carrying on his legacy, giving him an actual heir made from his flesh, and not just blood only. He would like the idea behind it; however, he tends to use breeding as more possessiveness and marking.
˚₊‧꒰ა When it comes to other forms of marking you, look forward to him spanking you for all those times you’ve been a brat or just sassed him. Some bite marks would surface on your kiss, followed by hickeys by the dozens. Show them off, he likes it when you do. “Let everyone know who you belonged to. No one would dare question my claim.”
˚₊‧꒰ა Ah, how can I forget. He got you a necklace, and or, anklet, so when he’s fucking you with your legs over his shoulders, his name dangles right by his ear. Letting you know who was making you feel so good, and having you cry all over his cock.
˚₊‧꒰ა Not a loud or vocal person, apart from the dirty talking. I don’t know. He doesn’t strike me as the type to moan, something about it makes him feel like he’s losing his control and dominance. Anyway, if you DO want him to moan, on your knees and put that mouth to use, and all that talk about him not moaning would become false.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Do not mistake the sounds from my throat for a loss of con—” It’s one of the easiest ways to make him lose himself since his control is otherworldly. He can never stay silent for too long, and soft grunts and groans will escape his mouth. Should you point them out, teasing him, he’ll push your head back down to take his cock and shut you up. It’s clear that he doesn’t enjoy being called out—so do it.
˚₊‧꒰ა The reward is promising. A nice session bent over his throne or he makes you ride him until he decides to take over. Something he indulges in quite often—and I’m referring to having you ride him on his throne. Since he’s there for most of the day, he invited you to sit on his lap and make yourself comfortable.
˚₊‧꒰ა He doesn’t rush, or command you, but should you start taunting him, he’ll press you against his chest and bind your wrists behind your back while he thrusts upwards at a blinding speed. Moan and cry out to him, “It’s what you wanted from the start, isn’t it, Kleine? That’s why you came to see me.”
˚₊‧꒰ა Other positions he would love to see you in, apart from face-down, ass-up and riding him: against a wall where he can lift your legs off the ground, bent over a table, bed, desk and mating press. He obviously wants all those positions where you’re helpless and he can pin you under or against him, left with no choice but to take his deep and hard thrusts.
˚₊‧꒰ა Something that he enjoys doing is binding your hands and legs with reishi. He’ll scoff if you held up a rope or handcuffs as you request to be tied up and opt for binding yours with reishi. You looked prettier in blue.
˚₊‧꒰ა When you’re at his mercy, all tied up on his bed with lustful eyes, he wants nothing more than to worship and ruin you at the same time. His mouth will devour every inch of you, leaving no part untouched, and in the same way he enjoys when you go down on him, it is returned with equal fervour.
˚₊‧꒰ა He wouldn’t spend eternity between your legs, preferring for his cock to do that instead, but he’s wickedly good with his mouth and savours the act of your clamping your thighs around his head when the pleasure escalated. Although, he would rather you kept your legs spread nice and wide for him, he wants an obstructive view of the task at hand. You’re not in control, he is.
˚₊‧꒰ა His goal for to have you hypersensitive, wanting a mess all over his face, seeing your trembling, clutching the sheet for dear life and struggling to breathe. He wants to reduce you to the ultimate mess—fuels his ego and makes him want to push you further.
˚₊‧꒰ა When he’s finished, you will be left feeling like jelly, melting into the mattress with no concept of where you are—he’s thorough. Yhwach will keep you close, holding you against his chest, fingers trailing over your sweat-soaked skin, murmuring quiet reminders of who you belonged to, and how well you did. Small, gentle kisses along your skin while his fingers squeezed your muscles, a rare show of affection reserved only for you.
➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: (1) Can you please write sfw and nsfw headcanons for jugram, yhwach (separately) x fem reader? Thanks ❤️❤️ (2) Hello, how are you? Can I request headcanons (sfw and nsfw) for yhwach? reader being your wife?Thank you so much - @akira-yoshida
➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: I felt like I took too long to answer this due to the length of time it has been sitting in my asks. Apologies.
➳❥ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: (18+) content, GN!reader in SFW section, fem!reader in NSFW section, breeding, some talks about impregnating, asphyxiation, spanking, rough sex, dom!Yhwach, sub!reader, fingering, power dynamics, possessiveness
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
「 ❤︎ SFW Headcanons ❤︎ 」
˚₊‧꒰ა This man falling in love with you was not on his list of things to conquer in the upcoming thousands of years, but when he did fall in love, he added you to his list. To him, loving you was never a fleeting moment sort of attraction, it was like any other challenge he faced—something he must overcome.
˚₊‧꒰ა When it comes to Yhwach having you at his side, he ensures that you, most of all, understand the status you hold and how to properly command it. Use it to your benefit and never submit in fear. He wants you to understand that you are his equal—a title he doesn’t take lightly—and demonstrate this to his followers. “You must know your worth when you stand at my side,” he’ll whisper to you.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Do not forget who you are,” he once told you after someone had the audacity to question your position. “And do not allow others to forget, either.” There was no room for doubt—you were his equal, his other half.
˚₊‧꒰ა Now, any romantic gesture from this man is never done lightly, even if it were to be executed in public, before his followers—they know better than to comment. His voice is an octave softer, such as his eyes, but his arms around your waist are anything but gentle, more firm with possessiveness.
˚₊‧꒰ა His jealousy is barely there. At the same time, he doesn’t want to appear overprotective and the annoying type of lover who watches your every move. There is a level of trust he bestows upon you, so don’t break it. But he can’t help but feel irritated whenever a lower-rank officer stands too close, breathes in your direction, makes you laugh and smile a bit too much, or addresses you without your titles.
˚₊‧꒰ა He wants his empire to see and know, not by only mere whispers, that he has chosen someone to stand at his side in the new world. His kisses and touches are possessive, but not the frightening kind. The ones that are domineering, wanting you to understand that he is yours, and you are his.
˚₊‧꒰ა His decision to be with you was not something to be viewed lightly. He meant to be with you to the very end of all time. There was no backing out or breaking up. It was until death do you part. That’s how he viewed his relationship with you. Whether you married him or not.
˚₊‧꒰ა Marriage to him wasn’t anything of great importance. Everyone already knew you belonged to him, so there wasn’t a need to question whether or not you were his. You. Were. His. However, should you request a wedding because you wanted the experience, it would be quite regal.
˚₊‧꒰ა Banners everywhere, the entire guards in their royal attire, assembled to witness their Empire tie himself to his partner. He will, for once, forgo the tattered cloak, as he waits for you at the altar to speak your vows and exchange rings. Might forgo rings and use the Quincy Cross instead.
˚₊‧꒰ა One minute you’re talking to the officer and the next, the poor Soldat is on their knees, grovelling, under the weight of Yhwach’s reiatsu. He’ll stand at the other end of the room or sit on his throne with a smug expression as he regards the insolent fool who thought for a second that they had a chance. You’re lucky if he doesn’t kill them right before your eyes in a blur.
˚₊‧꒰ა He probably has done so a few times when he was already in a terrible mood and saw some lowly, insolent fool trying their hand. Gone in an instant, while you’re left standing there, horrified, covered in specks of blood. The number of arguments you had with him for getting you messed up…you weren’t even fazed by him killing his men. You were accustomed to it by now.
˚₊‧꒰ა He demands loyalty. It is expected of anyone who enters his army, and you are not spared from his heavily implied demand for loyalty. “You are my equal. One I have not chosen lightly. I expect that you understand the weight this bears and what must be returned,” he states while he holds your chin and lifts your head upwards to meet his crimson eyes.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Do not mistake my silence for disinterest,” he mutters one evening after you questioned him about his lack of interest in your indulges. He was someone who valued efficiency, not priding himself on the unnecessary, but it changed when you entered the picture. However, he prefers to sit back and observe you in your element as you engage in your enjoyment. “If I did not care, I would not be here.”
˚₊‧꒰ა Very observant when it came to you, to the point that it might become unsettling due to his accuracy. Even before he lost his Almighty, he already had the inclination to what was wrong before you even came to him. And when you were troubled, he rarely spoke, letting you express yourself as you saw fit while he held you closely. A tender, “I am listening,” should you hesitate.
˚₊‧꒰ა In private, his touch withdraws from possessive and domineering to something reverent and tender—he has to opportunity to appreciate you in all your glory. “You feel soft. You feel like mine,” he muttered, lying on his bed, you’re the only person allowed in his room, he’ll hold you close and bask in the tranquillity. Your scent, your softness, your presence, your voice, everything about you.
˚₊‧꒰ა His touch would be slow, deliberate, and never rushed as he traces his fingers over your pulse as if he was memorising the rhythm, grounding himself in the fact that you were real and here with him still.
˚₊‧꒰ა He melts into your touch anytime you run your fingers through his hair, combing and brushing it out after he had a long, tedious day. Um…you’re not going to get through with styling it—that I am absolutely positive on. Help him wash and tidy his hair, keeping him groomed and pristine, and that’s all. Mayhap a single braid to display the true length and fullness of his hair.
˚₊‧꒰ა You did not soften him, nor did you change him. He remained the man he always was—unyielding, pragmatic, a force of nature that could not be swayed. But you gave him something he had not had in millennia: someone to return to.
˚₊‧꒰ა Yhwach was not a man of apologies, nor did he see the point in them. If he wronged you, he would rectify it through actions rather than words. A rare instance of compromise, and unspoken acknowledgement of fault—it was his way of making amends. Of course, this also included gifts and being spoilt.
˚₊‧꒰ა Nothing that ever came from Yhwach was done without meaning. Each gift provided carried a weight of something sentimental and meaningful—never a person to do things half-heartedly. If you received an entire library, he understood you enjoyed reading. If you had an entire wing of the palace dedicated to you, he respected that you appreciated tranquillity and not being bothered. “Tell me what you desire, and I will ensure you are well cared for, engel.”
˚₊‧꒰ა Please do not get injured. He already trusts you when you go out there to participate in recruiting Quincies and fighting other battles, knowing that you are strong and capable of holding your own ground. The last thing he needed to hear was you returning, injured or on the brink of death.
˚₊‧꒰ა The assailant will no longer be permitted to live—that much is understandable. As for you, he will never stop talking about how you got yourself wounded and nearly killed. Deep down, it’s his way of letting you know his concern, though he wouldn’t come outrightly and spill the beans. “Do you have any idea how foolish that was of you! If you had died—”
˚₊‧꒰ა You have to compete with Jugram on who can be more loyal to Yhwach. You also have to deal with Jugram cautiously nitpicking the things you do that he suspects will upset His Majesty, only for you to rub it in his face that you have permission. The bickering between you two is endless, and Yhwach gets a kick out of how you make his right-hand man composure falter.
˚₊‧꒰ა Uses sweet names with you. ‘Schatz, engel, liebchen, geliebter, Kleine,’ and so forth. They will be whispered sweetly into your skin as he holds you closely, shielding you from the world, wishing that you are not taken from him as so many others have in the past.
˚₊‧꒰ა “You are the only person I will ever tolerate,” he admitted once when you questioned why he allowed you to disrupt his calculated life. “The only anomaly I choose not to erase. You are meaningful to me.” It was not the traditional declaration of love one would expect, but from him, it was everything.
˚₊‧꒰ა When he speaks about the future of the empire, he always remembers to include you at his side in his declarations. Wherever he goes, you’re at his side, or a few steps behind him. He will seek your counsel when he requires the voice of someone who understands his ambitions.
˚₊‧꒰ა Values your insight apart from Haschwalth and will request your presence whenever meetings are being held. Speaking of which, his pride surges anytime he stands aside, observing you commanding his men with confidence. Accepting your role as a leader at his side.
˚₊‧꒰ა Like I mentioned, he is possessive and any chance he has to display it, he will not hesitate. One of his best ways to convey this is through kisses. They are rough and possessive—his grip on you tightens and becomes firm, unyielding as he pins you against any surface or to his chest. You’re not allowed to move until he’s finished.
˚₊‧꒰ა Loves to hear you speak about him. Basically glorifying and praising this man gets him turned on and pleased. He loves it (if you hadn’t noticed from the way everyone spoke highly of him). Once again, you’re only competition is Jugram.
「 ❤︎ NSFW Headcanons ❤︎ 」
˚₊‧꒰ა Okay, first and foremost, his cock is massive, thick with a prominent vein running along the underside. The length stretches far past what any normal person could handle comfortably, and the girth is there to ensure that you will feel every inch. He’s not for the faint-hearted.
˚₊‧꒰ა He possesses a dominating aura that naturally demands submission, his presence alone is enough to make you feel utter claim even before he lays a hand on you. Yhwach doesn’t submit and he isn’t, EVER. This man fucked like he was conquering you, like he had to claim you each time he took you.
˚₊‧꒰ა He commanded pleasure as if it was his divine right, orchestrating every cry, every gasp, every trembling orgasm with ruthless precision. He did not tolerate disobedience in bed—if you dared to tease or deny him, he would pin you down, wrench your legs apart, and fuck submission into your very core.
˚₊‧꒰ა He relished bending you to his will, your body trembling, voice hoarse from begging. His favourite thing to you would be having a hand wrapped around your throat, just to remind you of where you belonged and to who. And when he did take you, it would mostly be face-down, ass-up, where you had no choice but to take what he gave.
˚₊‧꒰ა Dirty talking was something he did all the time, but it was mostly done under his possessive streak. His words were always punctuated with, ‘Mine,’ or ‘My,’ anytime he was whispering filth in your ear. Enjoying the way you squeezed him tighter with each word that escaped his lips.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Look at you, ruined, dripping with my cum. You think you can take another man after this? You’re mine, Kleine (little one).” “You were made to take my cock, weren’t you? Every time I fuck you, you mould around me like you were built for it.” If you dared to argue, he would silence you with a harsh thrust, fucking the words out your throat until all you could do was moan his name.
˚₊‧꒰ა Yhwach isn’t someone who’s sex-craven, so it’s not all the time isn’t interested in indulging. So most of time, you’re the one to rile him up, get him in the mood and all worked up. Tease him under the table during a meeting, be a brat, wear something he’ll lose his mind over, display your confidence and authority, and you will get bent over the table or his throne.
˚₊‧꒰ა Whether he was frustrated or calm, his stamina was unmatched and there was no mercy in his pace. He was relentless—hard, fast, and deep with a rhythm that left no room for anything but pleasure and submission. He reaches deep and makes you feel him all the way in your tummy (you’re gonna have a tummy ache), and with the way he can go for hours, never tiring, you’re becoming an overstimulated, trembling mess.
˚₊‧꒰ა Yhwach never did things half-assed, so when he was going all out, he expected suitable responses. Meaning: moan, cry, whimper, whine, scream, sob, and beg. He wants to hear you sing as he pleasured you, thoroughly. “Just like that, my love. Let me hear you,” he’ll groan in delight as he pushes himself deeper.
˚₊‧꒰ა He’s a man who loves lingerie, and more the simpler pieces like the satin nightgowns with lace trimmings, perhaps a silk babydoll piece that compliments your figure. That’s not to say he doesn’t have an affinity for the lingerie that contains garter belts, more pieces and whatnot, he’s a simple man when it comes to what turns him on. You could wear anything, and he’s sprung—of course, he does have his preferences.
˚₊‧꒰ა Okay, so it is probably known that he has a HUGE thing for breeding. And for him, it’s done out of claiming you, and ruining you so no one else will ever satisfy you the way he does. Also, he doesn’t believe in making a mess when he’s so generous when it comes to giving you his cum. The least you could do is be stuffed by it.
˚₊‧꒰ა It is his way of marking you as well—the best way. He wants you dripping with a bulge in your belly, and one orgasm was never enough. He will fill you over and over until his cum was stuffed in every crevice. No part of you was going to be left untouched, which meant that if you were into anal, he’ll fill you up there as well and then stand back and watch as his cum dripped out your holes.
˚₊‧꒰ა Very quietly, he’ll reach out to run his fingers over your skin, smiling as you trembled from the sheer intensity of everything, and spread your legs wider so he can have a better view of his cum oozing out. His fingers would dip into the mess as he moved to finger your pussy into another orgasm as if the nth number you had wasn’t enough. He liked the sound of your heat squelching as he fucked his cum into you and into another orgasm.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Look at you, dripping like you still want me to stuff you more. You’d like that, won’t you?” he’ll murmur and tangle his fingers in your hair, forcing you to look at him. “You want more? Ruin this pussy and make it mine?”
˚₊‧꒰ა Now, with the breeding, Yhwach wouldn’t mind engaging for the sake of you carrying on his legacy, giving him an actual heir made from his flesh, and not just blood only. He would like the idea behind it; however, he tends to use breeding as more possessiveness and marking.
˚₊‧꒰ა When it comes to other forms of marking you, look forward to him spanking you for all those times you’ve been a brat or just sassed him. Some bite marks would surface on your kiss, followed by hickeys by the dozens. Show them off, he likes it when you do. “Let everyone know who you belonged to. No one would dare question my claim.”
˚₊‧꒰ა Ah, how can I forget. He got you a necklace, and or, anklet, so when he’s fucking you with your legs over his shoulders, his name dangles right by his ear. Letting you know who was making you feel so good, and having you cry all over his cock.
˚₊‧꒰ა Not a loud or vocal person, apart from the dirty talking. I don’t know. He doesn’t strike me as the type to moan, something about it makes him feel like he’s losing his control and dominance. Anyway, if you DO want him to moan, on your knees and put that mouth to use, and all that talk about him not moaning would become false.
˚₊‧꒰ა “Do not mistake the sounds from my throat for a loss of con—” It’s one of the easiest ways to make him lose himself since his control is otherworldly. He can never stay silent for too long, and soft grunts and groans will escape his mouth. Should you point them out, teasing him, he’ll push your head back down to take his cock and shut you up. It’s clear that he doesn’t enjoy being called out—so do it.
˚₊‧꒰ა The reward is promising. A nice session bent over his throne or he makes you ride him until he decides to take over. Something he indulges in quite often—and I’m referring to having you ride him on his throne. Since he’s there for most of the day, he invited you to sit on his lap and make yourself comfortable.
˚₊‧꒰ა He doesn’t rush, or command you, but should you start taunting him, he’ll press you against his chest and bind your wrists behind your back while he thrusts upwards at a blinding speed. Moan and cry out to him, “It’s what you wanted from the start, isn’t it, Kleine? That’s why you came to see me.”
˚₊‧꒰ა Other positions he would love to see you in, apart from face-down, ass-up and riding him: against a wall where he can lift your legs off the ground, bent over a table, bed, desk and mating press. He obviously wants all those positions where you’re helpless and he can pin you under or against him, left with no choice but to take his deep and hard thrusts.
˚₊‧꒰ა Something that he enjoys doing is binding your hands and legs with reishi. He’ll scoff if you held up a rope or handcuffs as you request to be tied up and opt for binding yours with reishi. You looked prettier in blue.
˚₊‧꒰ა When you’re at his mercy, all tied up on his bed with lustful eyes, he wants nothing more than to worship and ruin you at the same time. His mouth will devour every inch of you, leaving no part untouched, and in the same way he enjoys when you go down on him, it is returned with equal fervour.
˚₊‧꒰ა He wouldn’t spend eternity between your legs, preferring for his cock to do that instead, but he’s wickedly good with his mouth and savours the act of your clamping your thighs around his head when the pleasure escalated. Although, he would rather you kept your legs spread nice and wide for him, he wants an obstructive view of the task at hand. You’re not in control, he is.
˚₊‧꒰ა His goal for to have you hypersensitive, wanting a mess all over his face, seeing your trembling, clutching the sheet for dear life and struggling to breathe. He wants to reduce you to the ultimate mess—fuels his ego and makes him want to push you further.
˚₊‧꒰ა When he’s finished, you will be left feeling like jelly, melting into the mattress with no concept of where you are—he’s thorough. Yhwach will keep you close, holding you against his chest, fingers trailing over your sweat-soaked skin, murmuring quiet reminders of who you belonged to, and how well you did. Small, gentle kisses along your skin while his fingers squeezed your muscles, a rare show of affection reserved only for you.
ichigo’s hand clamped over your mouth, muffling the moan that threatened to spill as he slammed into you, burying himself deep, too deep, so fucking deep that your eyes rolled back.
it wasn’t your fault. how were you supposed to be quiet when he was fucking you like this? his cock was thick, hot, stretching you open, hitting that perfect spot over and over again until you were clenching around him, gripping him like you never wanted to let go.
“fuck,” ichigo hissed, his breath ragged as he pressed his forehead against yours, eyes dark, pupils blown wide. “you want the whole house to hear? want them to know how fucking desperate you are?”
you whimpered beneath his hand, your body trembling, already so close to breaking.
“tch. useless,” he muttered, pulling his hand away—only to shove his fingers into your mouth instead.
two fingers. deep. pushing down against your tongue, forcing you to gag around them.
“keep quiet,” he growled, his other hand gripping your thigh, yanking your legs wider, forcing you to take him even deeper. “or i’ll make sure you can’t fucking talk for the rest of the night.”
you couldn’t breathe. couldn’t think. all you could do was take it, moaning around his fingers as he fucked into you harder, rougher, more desperate, more needy.
his fingers pressed down, curling, pushing deeper, feeling the way your throat fluttered around them.
your saliva dripped down his knuckles, messy, filthy, raw. and ichigo fucking loved it.
he pulled his fingers out just long enough to grab your jaw, tilting your head back, forcing your lips open wider. his eyes met yours, his lips curling into something dark, something dangerous, something fucking sinful.
then he spat right into your mouth.
“swallow.” his voice was rough, commanding, dripping with pure filth.
you obeyed without thinking, tongue curling around the taste of him, throat working as you swallowed him down.
ichigo groaned, his cock twitching inside you, his grip tightening as he drove into you faster, chasing his release, determined to ruin you completely.
“good girl,” he murmured, his voice nothing but gravel and lust.
and then he fucked you so hard you forgot how to be quiet at all.
◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ the moment you stepped into the dimly lit chamber, your breath caught.
the air was thick, heavy, something invisible pressing down on your skin, making your knees weak, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. aizen's spiritual pressure—sealed, contained, yet still unmistakable—lingered in the air like a phantom weight, a whisper of the power that once brought the world to its knees.
and then there was him.
sōsuke aizen sat before you, bound, unmoving, the heavy, unyielding seals pinning him in place. his hair had grown long, his robes plain, his posture relaxed in a way that made it unclear whether he was truly imprisoned or simply choosing to be still.
but his eye—the one not hidden behind the seals—watched you.
calm. patient. knowing.
you swallowed hard, your fingers curling into the hem of your skirt as you hesitated just inside the threshold. you had no reason to be here. you didn’t know him. you had never even spoken to him before. and yet, you had found yourself drawn here, compelled to see him for yourself, to stand in the presence of a man whose very name sent shivers down the spines of soul reapers.
aizen said nothing.
he merely watched as you slowly gathered the courage to step forward.
your voice was small, barely above a whisper. “… can you really not move?”
his lips parted, and though his expression remained unreadable, you could hear the faint amusement in his voice. “not even an inch.”
something about that answer—so simple, so certain—made heat coil in your stomach.
the knowledge that he couldn’t move, that no matter what you did, no matter how you touched him, he would stay just like this, forced to watch—
you bit your lip.
your legs felt unsteady as you stepped closer, your hands trembling slightly as you reached out, fingers barely brushing against the fabric of his robe. he hummed, a quiet, thoughtful sound, as you slowly climbed into his lap.
his body was firm beneath you, warm even through the layers of cloth. his thighs spread slightly to accommodate you, but there was no shift in his posture, no attempt to adjust. he couldn’t.
your breath hitched as you settled against him, your hips pressing flush against something hard.
aizen had a bulge.
a sharp, embarrassing sound escaped you as your fingers dug into his shoulders, your body going rigid. you hadn’t expected that. you hadn’t thought that he would—
“i see,” he murmured, his voice smooth, unhurried, as if observing something entirely mundane. “so that’s what you came here for.”
you whimpered.
his words, so calm, so matter-of-fact, made something inside you snap.
your hips moved—just slightly, just a slow, nervous roll forward—and the friction made you shiver.
aizen exhaled softly through his nose, watching you with that sharp, knowing gaze, his single visible eye half-lidded, unreadable.
you were using him.
grinding down against the thick press of his cock, feeling the weight of it even through the layers of fabric separating you. your small, pathetic sounds filled the silent chamber, breathy little whimpers slipping past your lips as you rocked against him.
“you’re trembling,” aizen mused, voice a low, quiet hum. “are you ashamed?”
you nodded weakly, biting your lip as your hips rolled again, your soaked panties dragging against the fabric of his robes.
he chuckled.
slow. deep. amused.
and fuck, that sound made your body throb.
you needed more.
shakily, your hands slid down, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging the damp fabric down your thighs. aizen watched, silent as you removed them entirely, the tiny scrap of cloth falling to the floor beside his chair.
now, when you moved, it was bare skin against his lap.
your slick folds dragged against the rough fabric of his robes, smearing your wetness against him, making each slow grind messy, filthy, the obscene heat of your arousal soaking into his clothes.
your moans grew louder, more desperate, little gasps escaping as you rubbed yourself against his cock, your clit catching on the layers of fabric, sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.
“look at you,” aizen murmured, watching as you lost yourself in the sensation, your whimpers turning into pleading little cries, your body shaking as you chased your release.
you buried your face in his neck, fingers clenching in his robes as you sobbed against his skin, your thighs squeezing around his hips.
he hummed, as if pleased.
“i wonder,” he mused, his voice warm, thoughtful, so cruelly calm while you were falling apart on top of him, “if i could move… what would you let me do to you?”
aizen hummed again, low and smooth, the vibration of it rattling through your bones as your hips stuttered, movements growing frantic, desperate, sloppy. your slick folds continued to drag against the rough fabric of his robes, the pressure against your clit making your mind blank, your breath coming in soft, stuttering gasps.
"that's it," he murmured, his voice gentle, coaxing, like he was speaking to something fragile. "you're close, aren't you?"
you whined, thighs trembling as you rocked harder against him, your fingers fisting into his robes as if you could ground yourself in him. your body burned, overstimulated and on the edge of something so overwhelming you could barely think.
"so sensitive," he mused, watching the way your body shivered, the way your little gasps grew breathier, weaker. "i imagine this is all it takes for you, isn’t it? just grinding your pretty little cunt against me?”
your head lolled against his shoulder, your mouth falling open, too far gone to answer.
"poor thing," he continued, his tone light, almost sympathetic. "you can’t even form words, can you?"
you tried—tried to say something, anything, but all that came out was a pathetic, shuddering moan as your body locked up, your orgasm hitting you all at once.
aizen exhaled softly through his nose as you trembled in his lap, your slick dripping down onto his robes, soaking into the fabric beneath you.
"there you go," he murmured, soothing, like he was guiding you through it. "just let it happen."
your body shook as you rode it out, your hips twitching weakly, grinding against his cock even as your mind went fuzzy, your vision swimming.
"good girl," he praised, his words slow and deliberate, spoken as if he knew you were too dumb, too wrecked, to truly process them. "even after all of that, you still kept going, still made such a mess of yourself on me."
you let out a broken whimper, your body sagging against his chest, breath uneven, muscles still trembling.
aizen’s single, magnificent eye gleamed as he tilted his head slightly, watching you with calm, patient amusement.
"i wonder," he murmured, his tone as composed as ever, "now that you’ve gotten a taste… will this really be the last time you come crawling into my lap?"
That episode with Yhwach on the horse did something to me...so yk I HAD to write abt it.
Warning: doing it on a horse lmaoo
The light breeze felt nice against your hair as you rode away with your dear husband on the beautiful black horse you loved so much.
Yhwach was holding the rains as you sat in front of him, on of his hands went to wrap around your waist pulling you flush against him as he buried his head on the crook of your neck getting a whiff of your scent.
You smiled not thinking much of it but the light bounces from the horse creating friction between you two was hard to ignore. It didn't help when his hand sprawled on your stomach and pushed your lower half towards him as he started placing open mouthed kisses on you neck, his hand seeming to go lower and lower...
"Focus on the road..." You managed to say.
Yhwach leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke in a low voice. "Multitasking is one of my many talents, little one. Feel free to enjoy the ride... in more ways than one."
You flushed when his other hand went to slightly lift up your skirt. "Don't worry, my dear... no one will see or hear you but me." his finger traced along your inner thigh, slowly moving upward. His voice carried a playful yet commanding tone "Spread your legs just a little more..."
You had no choice to obey since you were getting aroused yourself, his already hard bulge feeling a little too good against you ass.
With your legs slightly spread, Yhwach's hand easily sliped beneath your skirt, his fingers brushing against your soaked panties. "Ah, so wet already..." He pulled your panties aside, his middle finger pressing against your tight entrance. "Look straight ahead, little one..."
Yhwachs finger slowly slid inside you as the horse continued its steady pace "You're so tight... so perfect..." His voice is thick with desire, his cock hardening further against your back "Keep those beautiful eyes forward..." He continues teasing you with slow, deliberate movements.
"Hmm" You couldn't help but move your hips against his finger. He chuckled darkly as you moveed against his finger, his other hand tightening around your stomach to keep you steady on the horse. "That's pretty greedy of you, darling..." He curled his finger inside you, hitting that spot that makes you whimper. Oh how he loved knowing he's the sole reason you make those lovely sounds.
He started fucking you with his finger, his pace fast and rough, the horse's movements only adding to it. You gripped the rains "Hold on tight, little one..." He removed his finger suddenly and adjusted you to lean toward on the horse to bring your ass up so he can slide his thick, hard cock in you from behind. This position had you rest your face against the horses soft hair as you wrapped your arms around its neck, eyes half lidded as Yhwach brushed his length already dripping with precum, against your entrance.
Positioning himself at your entrance, he teased you with the head of his cock, rubbing it up and down your wet slit, making you arch into him "Be good for me, dear." His voice, a low growl, filled with desire and dominance. He grabbed your hips with both hands and thrusts his thick, hard cock deep into your tight, wet pussy from behind, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. He groaned from the sucking of your walls as he thrusted into you, making your hips to match his rhythm.
His own hips slamming against your ass with every thrust. The horse's movements only add to the intense pleasure, the saddle digging into your clit with each bounce. "You're taking my cock so well, little one... such a good girl for me."
He wrapped one arm around your waist to keep you arching back into him as he continued to pound into you mercilessly. His other hand reached down to spread your cheeks wider, allowing him to go even deeper. "Look how well you're taking my whole length..."
"But its...soo..bigg..." You slur your words, he ignored your whimpers, his monster cock stretching you out further with each brutal thrust. He could feel you struggling to take his full size, but he didn't stop or slow down. He wanted you to take all of him, every single inch. "I know you can take more darling..."
Despite your earlier "complaint" of him being too big, it all felt too good, you always took all of him, you loved to be filled up and he knew. He notices you relaxing, clearly enjoying his size. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear. "Your sweet little pussy loves every inch of my cock..." He pounded into you even harder, causing your breasts to bounce beneath your dress. The plush of your thighs and ass moving to the thrusts and bouncing of the horse give him a show he appreciates a lot.
"Such a sight to behold, my love..." He smirked as he reached down to slap your ass, the sound echoing through the air, earning some sweet whimpers from you. "Mhm" he let out a satisfied hum.
The forest was filled with wet and slapping sounds decorated with your pretty moans and whimpers. "You like that hm?" He taunted, as he saw you legs slightly shake "You can't come until I say so dear~" he kept on thrusting for what seemed like eternity, all the stimulation felt so good and it seemed like this horse ride was never gonna end.
Some tears started falling down from the pleasure, onto the horses dark furr, when Yhwach saw that and the way your body trembled with pleasure and slight pain. He smirked kneading the fat of you ass "Such a pretty sight... crying from my thick cock and my hand... you're so exquisite."
Juices from the both of them started leaking on the horses back and saddle, Yhwach only grinned "Look at the mess we made, love." he continued thrusting into you losing himself in the moment, the effect you have on him, until you spoke.
"Can I come..."
He pauses briefly, his cock buried deep inside you as he chuckles darkly. "Eager little thing, aren't you? Begging for permission to come on my cock..." He starts thrusting again, slower but no less intense, hitting that spot inside you that makes your toes curl.
He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer as he starts bucking his hips upward, hitting that spot inside you over and over again. "You want to come? You need to ask properly..." He growls, his voice low. You had to try your hardest to sound audible and not stammer your words in a moaning mess.
"P-please...Yhwachh..."
He pretended to think if your plea was good enough for a moment, bastard, before he hummed. "Good girl, come for me, show me how much you loved being ruined by me."
His pace quickened, one hand moving to your clit, rubbing firm circles on it before you finally came undone. He feelt you clench around him as you came, your pussy spasming on his cock. He groaned deeply, not stopping his thrusts as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. "That's it, little one... come on..."
Your arms tightened around the horse as he kept pounding into you, oh what a beautiful sight you were for him, if only you knew.
"Still feels good, doesn't it, hm" his fingers that were buried in your clit, slid into your mouth, making you taste yourself on his fingers. "Taste how delicious you are" He ordered, his fingers invading your mouth as he continued his relentless pounding. The lewd sounds of your sucking and his balls slapping against your clit fill the air.
He feelt his own release building, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he neared the edge. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and grabbed your hips with both hands, slamming into again. "...I'm going to fill this needy little hole..."
"Y-yes..ah..p-please"
That's all he needed to hear for his his hot seed to spill inside you, letting out a deep groan, as he coated your walls. He stayed buried inside you for a long moment, your chest having trying to catch your breath. After a few seconds, he slowly pulled out, a mix of both of your juices leaking out of your well-fucked pussy. "Mmm, look at that..." He purred, proud of the state he made you be in.
He put your panties back in place and lowered your skirt as he noticed they were getting close to the palace. You were completely worn out, resting against the horse as he rubbed your hips, gently smiling. "You did so well, especially for being on a horse" He patted your cheek as he dismounted off the horse taking you by the waist with him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his neck.
He took your weight easily, holding you close as you cling to him. He smiled softly at your trusting nature, despite just having been thoroughly fucked by him. "I'll take care of you, sweetheart." He softly whispered in your ear, carrying you to your chambers.
You know the biggest hate crime in the Bleach fandom? The absolute lack of Jugram Haschwalth content. What do you mean there are just EIGHT Jugram x reader/oc fics on ao3? In total even his tag carries but 14 pages on the site AND IT HAS BEEN NEARLY 3 YEARS SINCE TYBW CAME OUT!
Fellow writers. I beg, we need more Jugram love in this house. I don't even mean romance, just gimme some good Jugram content where he exists beyond being a single mention.
I love you, fics that take months to update. I click on the newest chapter and have no memory of this place and get to go back some chapters and rediscover how much i love everything about this story.
I love you, fics that take years to update. I think of you fondly, and know your names, go search for you and see an update from this year and scream, diving in uncaring of any missed details (i will finish the update and read you in reverse because this is a treat you have bestowed)
I love you, fics that probably will never update again. Thank you for being a roman empire for my mind, thank you for teaching me about the ephemeral fandom experience, for inspiring a thousand million what if-s, for being a comfort read and a nostalgia read and a reread.
I love you fic writers, who jump into projects and stories with enthusiasm. I love you when you succeed in pumping out those chapters and that love doesn't go away when you stop.
I love you fic writers who post and then get in your own head and never feel confident enough to update, whether it's at all or whether it's just that one story.
I love you fic writers, who have a fandom or media hurt you to the point of abandoning or having a hard time with their WIPs.
I love you fic writers, who lose interest or have life changes or illness or bad memory. Thank you for being part of the fandom, a core part of the fandom. Thank you for the time spent in the fandom.
I love you, fic writers who try out something new and then stop. You're so valid.
I love you, WIP fics that may or may not ever get finished. Thank you for brightening my day in the way only you could have.
⤹﹐the room was bathed in soft, golden light as you sat comfortably in the grand chair, your hands gently running through jugram’s long, shaggy blonde hair. he knelt before you with perfect posture, though his head was slightly bowed, allowing you better access to his silken locks. his eyes were closed, and his lips pressed into a thin line, though a faint, almost imperceptible grumble escaped him—a sound akin to a low growl.
“you’re such a good boy, jugram,” you said softly, your voice a sweet melody that seemed to melt the stiffness in his shoulders. “always so so strong. i don’t know what i’d do without you.”
he tensed slightly at your words, as if unaccustomed to such genuine praise, but he didn’t pull away. instead, he let out a low exhale, leaning subtly into your touch. you smiled warmly, your fingers working gently to detangle a small knot in his hair.
“you take on so much,” you continued, your tone soft but firm, as if scolding him for overworking himself. “you deserve to be taken care of too, you know.”
jugram grumbled again, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink. “you shouldn’t… waste your kindness on me,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly.
you laughed softly, leaning forward to press your forehead lightly against the crown of his head. “it’s not wasted. you’re worth every bit of it.”
his lips parted, but no words came out. he seemed caught between protest and acceptance, his body language betraying his reluctance to let go of his composed, stoic demeanor. but your hands in his hair, your soft voice, and your genuine care chipped away at his walls in ways he couldn’t resist.
as you continued to stroke his hair, the door to the room opened, and yhwach stepped in, his imposing figure casting a long shadow across the floor. his piercing eyes scanned the scene before him, his expression flickering briefly with disapproval before settling into one of amused resignation.
“i see you’ve made him your lapdog,” yhwach said dryly, his deep voice laced with mild sarcasm.
you glanced up at him with a playful smile, entirely unbothered by his remark. “he deserves a little attention, don’t you think?”
jugram stiffened immediately, his head lifting as if to defend himself, but your hands gently coaxed him back down. “relax,” you whispered. “you’re fine.”
yhwach rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he watched you with faint amusement. “you’re spoiling him.”
“he deserves to be spoiled,” you countered, your tone light but unwavering.
jugram stayed silent, his cheeks now unmistakably flushed, though he made no move to leave your side. you returned your attention to him, your fingers weaving through his hair once more. despite yhwach’s teasing presence, you continued to shower jugram with the sweetness he rarely allowed himself to receive.
yhwach let out a quiet huff before turning to leave, muttering something about your persistence. but you didn’t care. jugram was sweet in his own way, even if he rarely showed it. and seeing him like this—vulnerable, content, and cared for—was worth every teasing remark.
➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: When your attempt at running away from your yandere lovers didn’t go as planned.
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
❤︎ Aizen Sosuke
For starters, escaping is basically him committing to an illusion. In truth, you didn’t escape, only he allowed you to run off and give the impression that you got your freedom. The minute you ran out of the house, he alerted his network. Though it broke his heart to witness how you didn’t turn back when you ran out of the compound, he smirked knowing that you were coming right back. Every step you took only played into his grand design.
All those weeks of pretending to befriend him and playing nice just so he wouldn’t suspect your reason for wanting to up and leave worked in your favour… for a while. Aizen had left for a little business trip under his guise for new recruits, and you made the most of the opportunity. Freedom flowing through your veins, you were ecstatic to return to your former life, never looking back. You could already taste the sweetness of independence.
But it happened all too fast despite the months you’d been away. One minute you were opening your front door to greet your visitors, and the next, you were being carried over his shoulder as though you weighed nothing. His grip was ironclad, unyielding despite your struggles. He didn’t care about the tears you shed, all that mattered was you at his side, where you belonged. His voice was calm, yet it held a chilling undertone that made your stomach twist. “While I am disappointed you chose to leave me when my enemies are out there, I am happy to have you back. I’ve missed you, doll.” His smirk widened as he patted your thigh, his eyes glinting with amusement at your futile resistance. “But let’s not try this again, shall we? You wouldn’t like the consequences.”
Later, he’d sit you down, his hands gently cupping your cheeks, his expression deceptively soft. “You need to understand, my love. You are mine. There’s no life for you outside of me.”
❤︎ Kuchiki Byakuya
As an observant individual, he always has his eyes on your every move around the house and reading your body language the minute you decide to plan your escape. The thing was, Byakuya didn’t intervene, hoping that you weren’t so foolish to leave him, but you still attempted. It was the biggest mistake because you couldn’t make it out of your shared bedroom.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, you were mentally counting down the days until you made your move to escape, all the while fighting to keep up the distant-loving lover act for him. Byakuya saw right through your schemes, but he didn’t know the exact moment you’d act. Would you dare to test him? Would you defy his trust?
Strutting into your room and sitting on the opposite end of the bed, he greeted you nonchalantly and began removing his shoes. The silence was suffocating, the tension thickening with each passing second until he finally spoke, his voice cold and laced with authority. “Whatever it is you’re planning, I’d drop the idea or unpleasant things might result from it. You’re not leaving me.” His gaze was piercing, holding yours captive as if daring you to challenge him. You didn’t know how else to respond other than to sit there, your heart sinking as the truth wrapped around you like chains.
He didn’t stop there. Byakuya stood and walked over to you, his fingers tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his icy stare. “Do not mistake my calm demeanour for leniency. If you attempt something so foolish again…” His unspoken words were chilling, but his touch was almost tender, a contrast that made your heart pound with fear and confusion.
❤︎ Askin Nakk Le Vaar
As another observant person who enjoyed acting dumb and fooling everyone, he had gotten the tip-off about you purchasing a plane ticket and decided to confront you. Aside from the many times, he came down harshly on you, he was too calm when he approached.
Standing before the door with your plane ticket in hand, waving it around like some prize you had to claim, Askin strutted over to you with a pout on his face. “I noticed you booked a flight out of the country but didn’t book one for me. So, I took the liberty of purchasing another so we can go together, less you wish to stay here?” Underneath those pouty eyes that turned into cheerful gleams, you would see the warnings.
The deadly glares that penetrated your soul without remorse. He was testing you, observing your every twitch, your every breath, to see your reaction and how loyal you were proving to be. Making the wrong move, and you had no idea what he would do. Make the right move, and you might be spared his wrath—but you’d never be alone again. “I hope you understand that you are mine, and you are not leaving me,” he said with his voice dripping with finality as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear.
When you didn’t respond immediately, he leaned back and tilted his head, his smile growing sharper. “I wonder what you were planning to do once you landed? Find someone else? Start a new life? How foolish,” he mused, his voice dripping with mockery. “You belong to me, and there is no escape from that.”
❤︎ Urahara Kisuke
He’s a lot more playful than the others. He’ll toy with you and give the opportunity to escape right before his eyes just to see what your decision would be. And to his best guess, you do escape which creates the game of cat and mouse, his favourite. Kisuke would chase you about and give you the false advantage that you’ve outsmarted him, but you only ran into his trap. You had never escaped him from the very start.
From climbing into the taxi to speaking to strangers, to the affordable house on the street, to the job you obtained, it was all his design, making you believe that you regained your wings. When he grew tired of waiting and watching and missing your company, one morning while you were walking through the streets on your way to work, he casually approached you with a pretentious pout.
‘Begging you to return’ didn’t even begin to describe it. He wanted to see you feisty, standing up for yourself just so he could clip your wings and squeeze you into his embrace. And he did. Wrapping his arms around you tightly, his fingers dug into your back as he whispered into your ear. Explaining everything from the very start to the end and watching your face fall, he felt pride surging in his heart. “You did so well, sweetheart, but I’m tired of playing and I want you back home. You’ve been free for too long.” His grin was sharp, his eyes narrowing as if daring you to protest.
As he dragged you back, he couldn’t help but chuckle softly, his breath ghosting against your ear. “Next time, let’s not waste so much time pretending, hmm? You’ll always come back to me, no matter how far you run.”
❤︎ Jugram Haschwalth
You have a running streak with ending up with manipulative and overprotective yanderes at this point because you should know that there’s no escaping this guy. Like the others, Jugram has his hunter’s instinct and knows that there is a difference in your behaviour. One day you began treating him nicely, making him breakfast, lunch and dinner or greeting him at the door when he returned from meetings and trips. He knew something was off and he was right when he decided to snoop around and discover your duffle bag filled with clothes and money.
You were attempting to leave him, and he did not appreciate your gesture. To think that after all he had done for you, this was how you repaid him. The betrayal stung, but it was masked by his icy composure.
The day you decided to make your move, panic consumed you at the disappearance of your bag. The slamming of a door alerted you to someone in the room. Swivelling around and coming face to face with Jugram silently fuming and your duffle bag at his feet, you froze. His normally calm demeanour was fractured, his blue eyes blazing with a cold silent fury. He was itching to let out his anger but knew it would end terribly, so he simply stared, his cold gaze locking you in place.
“I hope I’ve made myself clear. Never a next time,” he warned lowly and dangerously, the restraint in his tone more terrifying than any shout. His presence loomed over you, suffocating, as you realised there was no escape from him. Ever.
He stepped closer, his voice softening but losing none of its edge. “Do you know what happens to people who betray me?” he asked, his tone almost conversational. “I’ll forgive you this once, but if you ever try something like this again…” He let the threat hang in the air, his piercing gaze doing all the talking.
➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: Can you do a dating head cannon for Aizen Sosuke just like Uryu Ishida??? I love your work!!! Keep going
➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: I tried not to make this sound yandere because dating Aizen either way borders yandere behaviour—he’s a possessive meow meow. And thank you 🥺💜
➳❥ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: possessiveness, mentions of people dying, missing and injured, manipulation, overprotectiveness, toxic jealousy, yandere behaviour
➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: Dating Aizen as a human without powers.
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
➽ Aizen wasn’t interested in humans until he met you. You were a mystery—ordinary to the untrained eye. He found it amusing how you didn’t flinch when he spoke or moved with that unnerving precision of his, even though you couldn’t feel his spiritual pressure.
➽ He orchestrated your meeting as he did with every situation in life. You thought it was a coincidence that a charming man with impeccable manners helped you with your bags outside your workplace. Aizen never mentioned he’d spent weeks timing when you left your workplace to perfectly encounter you.
➽ It was funny when the Arrancar learned about you through Aizen, and one of their newest line of duty is to look after you in his absence. Everyone simply gawked at him as though he’d officially gone mad.
➽ While you’re fast asleep, a few of them would patrol the area or sit on your rooftop, guarding you from any enemy or Hollows. Grimmjow hated being assigned to keep an eye on you. Always muttering about why the hell they had to protect some random human. Of course, Aizen was never one to appreciate any comments being many about you, would correct Grimmjow.
➽ His amusement at your human clumsiness was thinly veiled. He’d help you up anytime you fell with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. It is a reason why he keeps a constant watch over you—your injuries are quicker obtained through clumsiness than a Hollow attack.
➽ He wasn’t entirely secretive about his shinigami identity. He’d let small hints slip, like when he handed you a necklace he claimed was a “ward against ill intent.” You didn’t realise it was a subtle kido-infused charm until one day, you avoided a speeding car by inches without understanding how you’d managed it.
➽ The first time he invited you to Las Noches for dinner, you assumed it was a high-end restaurant until you found yourself in a massive white fortress in what appeared to be the middle of a desert. “It’s a private venue,” he explained smoothly, ushering you inside before you could question how you got there.
➽ The Espadas didn’t know what to do with you. Ulquiorra stared at you like you were an insect under a microscope, quietly asking Aizen later, “What purpose do they serve?” Aizen’s reply was typically cryptic: “Some things require no purpose. They exist, and that is enough.”
➽ After your trip to Hueco Mundo, and liking the Espada uniform, you asked if you could have one to match his and to your surprise, Aizen gifted you a well-tailored uniform similar to his under the guise of ‘your loyalty and devotion.’
➽ At some point, you did become aware of his Shinigami nature because you were dating Aizen. He finds it endearing when you wish him good luck on any trips or fights he head off to, gift him a ‘good luck’ kiss or item and tell him to return safely.
➽ He would never admit that your genuine concern makes his heart flutter. In honesty, Aizen didn’t need any good luck, but he does find it sweet how your human compassion extends so easily to a being that wasn’t human in the slightest. Made you all the more…gullible. Sweet.
➽ His forms of affection are rather simple. Expect him to cup your face and brush his fingers over your jaw or cheek while holding eye contact. Occasionally, his arm would slip around your waist as he pulled you closer and brushed a few hair strands out your face.
➽ He likes to watch you sleep (like the whole Edward and Bella thing) because he finds you fascinating when you sleep. Maybe you sleep talk and he’s able to conduct an entire conversation. There are times when he would lightly trace patterns with his fingers over your skin.
➽ If you do, on the rarest of occasions, wake up to meet him beside you, it’s due to him joining your sleeping form during a late-night visit and he saw you curled up, alone. Should you blush, he’s going tease you. “Does my closeness leave you erratic? That’s good—only I can have such an effect on you.”
➽ You have the fortune of experiencing the unpredictability of his affections which leaves you on the edge, wanting more. One moment you two are talking in your kitchen while the tea is brewing, and the next, you’re pinned between him and the counter as he holds you both tenderly and possessively while his lips devour yours, whispering how crazy you drive him.
➽ You occasionally, or rather, often caught glimpses of his darker nature. Any time you’ve mentioned a worker or a random person who caused you discomfort or problems, the next day you would learn of them in the hospital or vanish off the earth (buried six feet under or cremated).
➽ If ever you brought up it, he would smirk and whisper something about how the world may forgive but does not forget, for those who wrong others, must accept their punishment.
➽ It’s quite obvious that he has a possessive streak about him. Doesn’t appreciate when others approach or conduct conversations, believing they have a chance with someone he considers ‘his.’ Loves to repeat that you are his on a daily, either subtly or boldly.
➽ So, for the sake of people’s livelihood, don’t let anyone flirt with you. Aizen would kill them—not in front of you, of course. His jealousy is like the calm before a storm.
➽ Now we know he doesn’t appreciate weakness or dependency, however, you’re the exception. You’re human and powerless. You need someone to save and keep you safe—you’re nothing without him. So, who better than him? That’s what he reiterates in your head constantly. There isn’t a soul capable of deserving you.
➽ Aizen indulges your curiosity within limits. When you asked about his past, he diverted with eloquent vagueness. If you inquired about his line of duty as a Shinigami, he would skim the surface along the lines of, “creating a newer world order.”
➽ Constantly reminds you that you don’t require anyone else but him—he was all that you need and want from the moment he walked into your life. If you ever show signs of needing another…that person is a poof of dust.
➽ Now, at the same time, he admires your strength and independence as you navigate your daily life as simple as it may be. Aizen knows for a fact that if anyone spoke or interacted with him the way others did with you, they’d be dead. So kudos to your patience and strength. He respects it.
➽ You can expect some words of wisdom from him on a daily notice. Waking up to find a letter neatly folded on your vanity or pillow. Sometimes a poem about the beauty of life and turmoil. This leads to lots of philosophical debates in your spare time—quite a headache because he always has a response for every counter.
➽ Despite his calculated nature, he had his moments of genuine humour. When you accidentally spilt tea on one of his pristine white haori, he looked at the stain for a long moment before quipping, “Perhaps I should consider black. It’s far more practical, don’t you think?”
➽ He let you tease him, though there was always a subtle line you never dared to cross. Once, you jokingly called him a “control freak” while rearranging your bookshelf. He only smiled faintly, replying, “It’s not control if it’s destiny.” You thought he was being dramatic; he thought he was stating the obvious.
➽ You never fully understood why he chose to stay with you, a perfectly average human, but Aizen seemed genuinely intrigued by your existence. Though, you weren’t blind to the fact that he was hiding things from you—big things—but you also knew he’d share them when he felt you were ready.
➽ Despite being human, he does test your loyalty and devotion towards him, putting you in situations where you have to prove your commitment, or having you express how helpless you’d be without him in your life.
➽ In the meantime, you let yourself enjoy the absurdity of dating someone who could probably rewrite reality but still found time to argue with you over whether tea should be poured before or after the milk. Or, in Aizen’s words, “Tradition is tradition. Tea before all else.”
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