Characters That Are Black In My Heart🫡

thinking of dilf!toji who tells you he doesn't want any more kids whilst he's balls deep in your pussy.

“look at yer sloppy cunt drooling all over my dick," toji groans lowly from above you, the pads of his fingers giving your swollen, aching clit a harsh smack. "you wanna take my cum, baby?"

after having megumi, toji swore to himself that he would never have any more kids. he's been through it once too many times; sleepless nights and fussy cries. at least that's what he tells you. but fuuuuck is his dick telling you something else.

he has you in a nasty mating press. his thrusts are unrelenting and rough, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix as he brutally fucks you deep into the mattress. his slick covered fingers come up and squish your cheeks, causing your glossy lips to smack together into a slobbering pout. "answer me, girl."

"mmph! yes— toooji!" your cunt greedily swallows his mean, mean cock, stretching to accommodate his overwhelming size. you can feel the calluses on his fingers as he teasingly drags his hand down your throat, squeezing it enough for you to let out a mewl, before his other hand is groping your chest and he uses his nails to trace around your puffy nipples.

"look so fuckin' pretty like this... too bad you ain't takin my cum, huh?"

toji can't help the arrogant smirk that tugs at his scarred lips at the sight of you writhing and crying beneath him when he stills with a wet squelch. the sight of your dazed eyes and the fat globs of tears clinging to your lashes makes his already hard cock throb inside of you, nudging your sensitive gummy walls. his large hands grab the back of your thighs and he leans over you, forcing them further apart and into a wide 'v' shape.

"hear that? think she's beggin' for me to fill her up," he delivers a punishing slap to the globe of your ass. "nasty girl."

despite his earlier words and promised thoughts, more often than not, he finds himself imagining what you'd look like with your tummy round and swollen. the thought only stirs his cock more and his hips are slamming into you once again, penetrating your sopping wet cunt that's already eagerly sucking him in.

another kid couldn't hurt, right?

thinking about teen! nanami who looked at you with heart eyes when you both walked around the hallways of the busy school you went to, his heart fluttered at even the slightest nudge you'd give him. you were a little oblivious, but that didn't stop teen! nanami from repeatedly throwing hints and trying his best to get attention from you. especially when you walked down your driveway outside your house when he picked you up for prom— you had thought it was a friendly gesture. he took your hand in his, as teen! nanami danced with you in the hall, his face lit up as he twirled you around.

and finally, teen! nanami who watched you walk down the isle 15 years later, you still looked as beautiful as ever. stunning, majestic and he couldn't take his eyes off you. as you both said your vows, he couldn't help but remember— teen! nanami who thought it was a small, simple crush. now, adult! nanami was with you forever.

requested by an anon.

i was just thinking about adult toshiro, that’s it.

Being bi and watching Arcane is a fucking TREAT ITS A SNACK ITS EVERYTHING

blue lock objectively is insane and probably bad. but the thing about blue lock is that once you watch it youre like holy shit this is peak. its a disease.

other powerpoints ive made: chainsaw man, kagurabachi

just as a general reminder

learn how to fact-check for yourself, cause soon enough, most online sources won't be reliable

Lovers

Court Proceedings

A birthday fic for my lovely @cherrywlne loml!!!!!!!!!!

Warnings: Yandere! Kenpachi Zaraki, medieval fantasy au, bad working conditions, mentions of physical ailments, mentions of murder, explicit nsfw both consensual and nonconsensual, 8k words

As ladies giggled and swarmed around your mistress, you looked over a few shoulders to see exactly what they were looking at, despite having already seen it a million times. 

The object of their attention was the colour atop of your mistress’ nails, her having used a special lacque to get them to stay such a vibrant red colour. The lacque was a paint that provided colour atop the nails, some new invention made by an alchemist with too much time, the pigment making the nails of one’s hands stand out in beautiful ways. When first heard of such an invention, many of the maids had had their doubts, whispering to each other that discolored nails were not exactly a sign of beauty. The countess provided a counter argument by just placing her hands gently against her equally as burgundy dress, the silk and lacque providing contrast with her skin in an awe-striking way. 

Everyone behind the scenes of the dinner party had been told to keep the purchase of the lacque hidden, as that would’ve ruined the surprise. It had worked just as intended, all the other ladies present jealously gazing upon the countess, timidly asking her where her lady had acquired such a thing. 

The reply, always an amusement to you, was as predictable as it was false. 

“Oh? You haven’t heard of it?” Countess Tièna said, a faint and disarmingly patient smile tugging at her lips. “An alchemist from the west has made a special type of paint that is safe for the human skin and holds pigment within nails for quite a long time. I was simply too curious not to try it out, and I must say, I am not disappointed.”

“You look absolutely breathtaking, my lady.” The new wife of the earl added, nipping her floral tea delicately, taking only the tiniest of sips. “I’m sure you must have garnered many suitors for such a well-decorated hand.”

It was presumably said as a light attempt at humor, but every eye snapped towards Tièna, gathering her reaction to such a comment. The countess’ marriage prospects were, after all these years, still a subject of interest. Both because of the power she held in her territories, the rumors regarding her late husband's death, as well as the mature beauty she’d turned into. 

The countess’ smile faltered for a single second. Another lady coughed slightly, having covered her mouth even before any sound came out. You were staring blankly at the wall with your back straightened, keeping your peripherals on the table to check if everyone was still well. As a servant, you had a basic understanding of the politics that went on in this place. One had to, when every conversation you overheard during work was between high-ranking nobility.

She couldn’t be seen faltering as a host, which was as far as you could guess her current motivation, so the countess pretended to burst out in giggles before studying her own hand. “It must be so. Well-decorated it is most certainly.” 

Her attempts at tying off the subject were ignored, as the second question rose up immediately.

It was, unsurprisingly, one of the older, more conniving ladies that spoke up. “I have even heard the esteemed captain has visited here a few times. It might be presumptuous of me, but might he be after said hand?”

You side-eyed the countess, reading her reaction. An insinuation that she’d even humour the captain’s possible affections was preposterous, and raising it as an actual possibility of marriage was an insult to the countess at best. 

It wasn’t a nobility thing, the ladies’ dislike for the captain. He was born from a high enough station and had been majorly successful in his position. It was rather that despite his noble birth and many military accomplishments, he seemed utterly uninterested in the subtleties of the court, instead relying on his rank to make sure no indiscretions ever affected his station. 

He was absolutely hated among lower nobility, and even high nobles seemed wary even associating with him, despite his influence. The captain ruled with brute force, and at times seemed more akin to a barbarian than a high lord of the court. Returning his affections would mean social death in the countess’ eyes, even if it’d lean her a great deal more power to associate closely with the military. 

“It is quite presumptuous of you, I am afraid.” The earl’s wife gasped, the hard choice of words surely testing her constitution. “There is a bit of business with which he needed my approval, and I aided him in his endeavors.”

Your face did not move an inch, your gaze settling firmly on the curtains, but inside your mind, your head was whirring. 

That was a lie. 

The countess had no idea why the captain had visited so often lately, but there was no way she could ever tell the other noble ladies that. It would be too easily reconstructed as romantic interest, despite the fact that all the times the man had visited her, he’d barely stayed for more than a few minutes, saying little each time. His silence was worse, as he was not known as a bashful man, meaning there had to be something she was missing. 

Telling the others he’d needed her aid with military business was a fair move, since it implied her own influence in those kinds of matters. Despite this, you knew from the moderate reaction and the soft ‘oh’s that not everyone believed this. 

One of the newer ladies, who’s names you’d stopped trying to remember after your countess’ sixth move (she couldn’t seem to decide whether country-life or city-live suited her more), lifted a dainty finger. “How intriguing. I’ve yet to meet the captain. From what I’ve heard he is a valiant warrior and brilliant strategist. I am most certain he is quite busy, since of course protecting a country leaves much work to be done, but I am curious whether or not he will attend the celebration of the Third next week.”

An older woman shook her head and placed her hands atop one another on her legs. “I would not count on it. Captain Kenpachi is known for being a bit of a truant with such occasions. Perhaps the socializing is not to his liking.” 

They all laughed as if a joke had been told. 

You could tell that the ladies here were in leagues above the countryside nobility. There they still let personality shine through, messy hair days and muffled curses when things went wrong, while here every movement seemed studied. None of their backs touched the leaning. Drinking the expensive tea that had been laid out occured in slow bouts of minimal sips. None of the food that was present had been touched, but everyone had something on their plate. None of them spoke with accents, even the lady you knew to be from the south speaking the language like she’d never spoken anything else. Eyecontact was short and divided between the most important players, the countess in particular having the privilege as host to decide whom she’d meet halfway. They all smiled, though the subject matter was not nearly as innocent as they were making it seem. 

If others were able to see the cards in your hand, it meant you were either stupid or unwilling to play the game, and these women were playing. This was as close to outright gossiping they could get in this group without shifting power in any direction. For the countess, allowing clear insults to the captain at her party would be something the rest could hold against her and use later, but changing the subject would make the ladies presume the countess did hold some affection, and they would force that rumor to fly until it became a problem. 

Or at least, this is what you presumed. Once you’d spoken to Natlan, a clerk, and he’d held theories of social standing shifts and codes hiding within the colours of the dresses that had made your head boggle. You kept it simple. It was hard keeping up with professionals.

The viscountess, a black-haired woman with very sharp eyes, delicately pushed a non-offending hair strand over her shoulder. This lady in particular wore a blue dress fitted to perfection, and sat perfectly upright and slightly diagonally on the chaise she’d been assigned, to make her dress fall perfectly, hovering barely over the floor. “Do you know the reasons for his absence, lady Tièna? Perhaps having discussed military strategy with him has given you some insight on his personal reasons for staying outside of the court proceedings?”

You sucked on your cheek as you heard the question, feeling in your stomach the direction this conversation would take. 

“Sadly, I do not know him that well.” The countess diverted, before pointing towards you, to which you just stood up straighter, cursing your own existence. "But perhaps she can clue us in.”

“The help?” Came the soft question of the earl’s wife, looking at you as if she’d just noticed your very physical presence in this room.

Tièna nodded in your direction, allowing you to speak.

You bowed your head. “I was temporarily traveling with the captain’s entourage from Sitsum to Tserk and back.”

“That is quite a distance.” The viscountess stated dryly, having dropped her smile for once, forgetting her decorum when addressing the staff. “What reason could you possibly have had to travel all that way?”

The countess held up her hand, motioning towards her painted nails, not yet wanting to give up the adoration they had afforded her. “I couldn’t just send a coachman, could I! When I heard of its existence, I simply had to make certain the boxes would arrive safely.”

While the viscountess opened her mouth to reply, the earl’s wife cut in between with barely hidden excitement, her tea cup even being placed back on the saucer so she could clasp her hands. “Boxes? There are more?”

“Oh my sweet ladies,” the countess nearly sang. “Of course I brought you all some as well, how vain do you think me? I simply had to test it before giving you all such a rarity, since I did not want to accidentally gift something subpar. The restraint in time due to the long travel time meant I had little choice.”

They all cooed and started heaping words of praise and thanks onto the countess, some of the younger ladies even whispering among themselves in excitement. During the trip, you’d become very acquainted with the bottles, and you knew that none of the colors meant for others were quite as shiny and full as the one meant for the countess. It was a childish move, but a welcome one, as you hoped it had changed the subject successfully. 

“I do not mean to cut our excitement short, and we can certainly revisit the subject of the beautiful lacque later, since I am sure we are all quite curious as to how it’s made and what brilliant alchemist could have made such a thing, but the captains constitution interests me a little bit more at the moment.” Lady Babette was unperturbed by the gift, and was eager to return to the gossip, quite possibly because it was the more fruitful information. Some seemed disappointed at the change of subject, but the more experienced ladies all seemed eager to continue a truly worthwhile conversation. Lady Babette turned to you and her smile fell. “So, could you perhaps tell us how the captain seemed to you?”

You smiled and hoped it didn’t seem too forced.

“As there were quite a number of people traveling with the entourage, I did not see the captain often.” You hesitantly started, picking your words very carefully, lest you get berated at the end of the party. “The few times I did see him, he was traveling at the back of the caravan. I did not recognize him as the captain at first.”

The memories swirled inside your head, even as you forced them away. You’d not speak them aloud, and no one here would learn of what had actually taken place during the trip. 

After weeks on the road, one's day to day thoughts become little else but varying desires. Wishing for a soft bed, for a full meal, for a small break to refill your waterskin and rest your legs, for the journey to be over already. 

The way to, you’d still been filled with adrenaline and excitement at going to Tserk, the port city being known for its beautiful lights and amazing food. You were so curious to see the city square, where you’d been told there were more stalls than in the entire capital. Merchants selling their goods, bars filled with jolly people eager to make a quick buck off of travelers. You’d saved your money for months, really wanting to bring back some sweets for your family, and maybe a new coat if there were nice ones. 

This excitement kept you from growing tired when the missed sleep started adding up, the carriages filled to the brim and the ground hard and cold to sleep on. The third night, you were gifted a bedroll by a soldier who’d seen you struggling, and you’d thanked him profusely. When he’d started insinuating that you needed to repay him with sexual favors, you’d excused yourself and slept in a different part of the caravan. There were more people sitting around a campfire at this new section, and you were sure that if the soldier found you here, you could yell for help. That big guy in particular would be a useful ally, if he was a tad more heroic than he seemed.

After three hard weeks of walking through rough terrain and arriving in Tserk, you realized you’d forgotten along the way that you were traveling with a militant company, and cities did not particularly enjoy having foreign armies conducting business. The vice-captain, the one who’d held contact with Lady Tiena about you accompanying them, had informed you to go about your business and then return to the camp, since staying in the city would be dangerous.

So no fresh eel, tuna and salmon on your plate. No exciting nights spent talking to people in the bars, or hours spent exploring the markets. Just a quick trip to the alchemist, who of course didn’t even live in the city. You couldn’t even see a glimpse of it. The alchemist was a stoic man who preferred his silence, so instead you were forced to undergo another four hour hike up to his house, at which you were given the boxes and sent right back down, the man not even offering you some water or food. 

Disappointment and all out exhaustion were the themes of the way back. 

The military campaign had been short, and while some soldiers were left behind to ‘protect the peace’, most would return back, though the caravan was significantly shorter. The first day traveling again, after a mere two days of respite, had been spent trying to get back into the rhythm, to no avail, but at least you were among people you recognized from the way to, your eyes now sleepily following the big guy you’d seen before, his black hair swaying side to say in a hypnotizing way. 

But his hair wasn’t necessarily what had caught your initial attention.

He’d dropped a knife. For miles you’d noticed the dingy string swing back and forth, barely holding onto the weapon anymore. How he didn’t find the constant tapping of the sheath against his hips annoying, you couldn’t fathom, but you also couldn’t tell him, the few feet you’d have to sprint to catch up too much to ask of your poor legs. The bottles had taken up your space in the carriages, meaning all that was left for you to do was walk, a terrifying realization knowing you were weeks off from the mansion Without even the quietest snaps, you saw the metal disappear into the snowy road and knew it wouldn’t have made loud enough a sound to be noticed.

You curled your coat tighter around your body and sighed, pushing yourself to close the distance.

Reaching the location of the knife, you stopped walking and picked up the weapon. After a while you reached the man, and you tapped his arm. He stopped walking and faced you, and you completely froze beyond the cold already seeping through your bones. You’d known he was massive, but how could a man look this angry. He looked like he’d tear you limb to limb for just having touched his arm. 

You held out the knife with a small smile. “You dropped this.”

His eyes went towards the knife and he took it from your hands, flipping it in the air once before throwing it in a nearby random carriage, the soft thunk making you feel quite silly for having gone through the effort of retrieving something that was probably worthless. 

“So I did.” He grumbled, casting you a single glance more before turning around and continuing to walk, the caravan moving continually. It’d be hours before camp would be made, but you still yearned for even a glimmer of warmth and sleep.

For now, the relief regarding the lack of wind reaching you behind the back of this monster of a man was enough.

None of these resurfacing memories were part of your description to the ladies. You kept your story short and to the point, trying not to say anything that would lead them to suspect you of withholding information. Technically you did not lie. You hadn’t known. You still could barely believe it. 

Your anxiety was probably still shining through, as several more experienced attendees of the tea party visibly frowned, though you felt hesitant to call it such. Just the barest raise of the eyebrows, a hint of distrust in their eyes. Even if you’d told the entire tale, including every single detail, you were sure that would still be the case. Maids were known to lie every now and again, as they’d all be dead if they didn’t. The difference between a good maid and a bad one was the timing. 

“Since you state you only saw him a few times, the odds of you two having spoken must be quite small.” Lady Babette said with a sigh, clearly having hoped for some more direct information on the captain's personality. “But the entourage must be quite familiar with him, how did they talk about him?”

“As they are a wartime outfit, things could be quite militant,” you said, the words rushing across your tongue. “Most did not want to acquaint themselves with me.” 

“Hey! Girl!” Someone shouted, and by the grit underlying the voice, you recognized it as the one who’d dropped the knife earlier that day. You looked up, not yet realizing he was calling you, but the second you made direct eye contact, you were fully awake. “Come here.”

Not really knowing the chain of command, and kind of curious as to why he was calling you over to the much more lively campfire, you crawled out of your bedroll and walked over, just a few steps shy of the entire group. To be put on the spot so heavily was a bit embarrassing, but you were here now. Nothing to do but endure, as the hole in your left shoe had taught you today.

“Is there something?” You resisted the urge to rub sleep out of your eyes and tried to look agreeable. No servant of Lady Tièna would continue to be in her employ if she found out you’d behaved discourteously during your travels. The group soldiers all regarded you curiously as the big man had addressed you. A small smile tugged at your lips. “You found a knife?”

He scoffed and instead waved over to a free spot next to the fire. You blinked, but your feet were already moving and sitting yourself down next to some people you recognized during the day, not really feeling up to questioning anything.

Despite the big man not having said a word, the others all seemed humored, to various degrees, and quickly the silence stopped. At first you were completely overwhelmed, but grateful to sit beside the warm fire, but soon several people asked you why you were traveling with the group and what your name was. After the introduction, things went easier. They were all nice, and you’d sorely missed some livelihood during your travels. 

Food was passed around, though the amount was nothing in comparison to the gallons and gallons of alcohol doing the rounds. Compared to the dutiful stride during the day, every single one of them seemed eager to let loose a little now. Tales were being swapped, drinking games played, and when it was your turn to tell a dirty joke, you visibly surprised them all with the most vulgar one you’d ever been told, a bald soldier sitting right across from you spitting out his ale at the punchline while the rest burst out in laughter. 

It reminded you of the time you’d broken your leg and were sent home a while. You hadn’t wanted to sit at home the entire while, so after a week, you’d asked your neighbor to just help you get to the nearest pub so you could spend your time people-watching. You made sure to pay the bartender for a drink every so often, and while those were the most expensive few days of your life, you regarded them dearly.

A drunk soldier had tripped over the back end of your dress and spilled some drink on the big man and you by proxy, and quite nearly immediately a fight broke loose. Just like in the bar, it’d seemed more like a play than an actual fight. Sure, at the end the offender held a broken arm and a bruised nose while his opponent just laughed, but instead of complaining, he doused himself in ale and loudly declared himself a repentant sinner, causing another wave of cheers and lively chatter.

When most of the conversations had died out, and the vast majority had gone to sleep, you were still sitting next to the smoldering ashes, not yet ready to let the evening slip by. The big guy had also stayed, though he looked tired and kind of pissed, even if you had learned that it was probably his set expression. Eager to immediately prove you wrong, his expression shifted to a wide grin and he turned to you, holding out his hand. 

“I’m Zaraki.” 

You smiled and introduced yourself as well, feeling the happiest you’d felt in a while.

“Come on, girl.” Said a woman who was probably the same age as you. “You can tell us everything! I can see that you are nervous, but there is no need to. What you say will not leave this room.”

Resisting the urge to laugh nervously, you instead just nodded. Seems like they didn’t buy the idea that you were just anxious from speaking so much in front of nobility. Lady Tièna smiled her usual patient and loving smile, but you saw by the tightness of her lips that she’d be angry with you if your story did not entertain her guests sufficiently. It didn’t matter. You’d rather be hit by her for such a minor offense than deal with the consequences of the truth. 

She’d kill you, if she knew.

“Ah, well. That is really all.” You lied. “I don’t think I saw him at all after we passed the mountains. It was only after arriving at the capital that I recognized him again and identified him as the captain of the eleventh.”

“Eleventh division.” Tièna corrected.

“Yes. The eleventh division, my apologies.” Only referring to the numbers was the modern way of saying it, something that had certainly not reached this place yet. “But I promise, that is all.”

“Are you sure?” Another lady drawled, disappointed at the anticlimactic story.

“I promise.” You repeated, more firmly this time.

It was not all. Definitely not.

“Please-please-please-” You chanted, head thrown back as your chest rose off the ground against his skin. Sadly, your pleading found no willing listener as his hips slowly came to a halt, again, and you wondered why a brute of a man such as him would be so incredibly cruel, not just to you, but to himself. “Nooooo...”

He snorted a laugh. “You’re acting like I’m hurting you.” 

“You’re being an asshole.” You slapped his chest in mild indignation, the sweat on your skin heating and cooling in cycles for what felt like forever now. Your legs were aching, his body so big you couldn’t wrap your legs around him, leading to him having put one of them on his shoulder. When he thrust in, a heavy slap resounding through the forest, you could feel your body folding. “Don’t tease so much.”

“I’m not teasing, I’m just getting the most out of this.” With any other man, in any other case, you would’ve been uncomfortable. The forest floor wasn’t the best place to fuck on, and there were people waking up just a bit out of sight. If even one of them walked out into the forest to piss, you’d be caught. Regardless, you wanted him with every fiber of your being, the predatory look in his eyes sending shivers down your spine. “We’ve got a twelve hour march after this, so I’m getting my fill.”

“Don’t talk about walking.” You moaned, your lust addled brain now making room for how little you looked forward to making it even worse through the course of the day. God, why were you letting yourself be fucked by quite nearly the biggest man in the entire caravan? What was wrong with you? You’d probably not even last an hour before collapsing. “Not looking forward to it.”

“Pfft. I’m not that cruel.” He pushed his hair back, and you wondered if he knew how attractive the motion was, or if he could feel you tighten up on him in response. You couldn’t tell, but he did start moving his hips again, and you were sure that if he didn’t let you come this time, you’d cry. “If you can hold out for just a bit longer, how about I put you on my spot on one of the carriages so you can rest a bit. I’m not usin’ it anyway.”

You hummed and decided that such a deal would definitely make this giddy feeling last a bit longer, the flutters in your stomach not killed the day after by another harsh day. You coyly looked up at him and wondered if you’d ever found something so simple so romantic. “Are you serious?”

“Dead.”

“Fine.” You smiled widely and raised your hands to his face, cupping his harsh features and imagining what could possibly be going on inside his head. You two were no longer strangers, having made this entire affair way more intimate than it had any right to be, but he still felt miles away. “But only if you kiss me.”

“A hard bargain.” He said, but he immediately bent down, letting your leg fall into the damp grass. At first you’d used the bedroll, but after the third position he’d wanted to try, it’d been discarded somewhere. You’d look for it later. There was only one thing you wanted now. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely, your tongues interlacing while your lips glided over his. Heavy balls slapped against your ass and despite already being firmly attached to one another, his hands grabbed your waist, forcing your lower body a bit up into the air so he could thrust faster. You broke the kiss to whimper against him, your entire body lifting off the ground to chase the pleasure he was giving you. 

His face disappeared into your neck, and as you felt him suck a hickey into your neck, you looked up into the bright blue sky, trying to keep yourself from screaming his name as his cock pummeled into you, twitching when he felt you clamp down on him. Digging your nails into his back, you closed your eyes and heard your whimpers become more and more desperate until pleasure finally shook through your entire body, your head thrown back in utter rapture.

He moaned, a low and masculine sound, and you felt cum fill you up, waves of warmth being thrust inside you while you were barely coming down from your own high. Sitting upright, not yet pulling out, he regarded you with a bit of amusement. You were still panting, lying completely defeated on the forest floor. 

“And here I was trying to spend more time with you.” A large hand went toward your boobs, and he started to firmly massage one of them, a lazy smirk on his face. “Did you do that on purpose?”

“I have no idea what you mean.” You actually didn’t, but you were sure the tired smile you had on your face made you seem much more mischievous than you really were. As if you’d been in the state of mind to do anything but chase after pleasure when you were being fucked like that. “Do I need to do it again?”

He bent forward and placed his hands on either side of your head, leaning over you completely. Slowly, he moved his hips against yours a few times, experimentally, to see if he could go another round. You got your answer through a dangerous sounding chuckle. “I think you might have to.”

--

All in all, the rest of the way back had been interesting. When you returned to your lady, having gone away from the caravan on the last night to avoid having to say goodbye, you wondered if you’d ever again experience such a romance. Sure, there were servants that married outside of work, but such matters were often more about convenience than passion. Nothing like what this had been. You’d even had dreams of leaving with him, of grabbing his hands and going across the sea, but thoughts of your responsibilities and the people depending on your paycheck had made you dutifully pack your bags and return. 

You delivered the lacque to your lady, were hit once for one box that had been damaged during the way, and then dismissed to return to the normal day-to-day tasks. Nothing had changed. 

And nothing would change, you thought, your period returning two weeks later leading you to believe you’d truly gotten away with the entire thing. When you’d been ordered to accompany Lady Tièna to the capital to tend to her chamber whilst she was gone, you went along, sad you couldn’t even visit home before being brought along to another trip. You just sent a letter with a few weeks worth of pay to your family, and hoped everyone was okay. 

It only took a few days to arrive at the capital, which had been an easier journey since you were allowed to sit front of the carriage next to the driver, a seat that only became cumbersome when it started raining. The capital was a beautiful city, though you didn’t look forward to it much, knowing the beauty was only there if one kept to the the main roads. Any detour and being accosted or swindled were par for the course.

The destination was, of course, the castle, but to get there, every noble had to get through the entirety of the capital. The city center had been destroyed so many times the houses were various eras of architecture, modern white brick interlaced with the bygone popular red clay bricks. You were not a fan of it, though you couldn’t tell whether that was because of the people or the city itself.

There were people swarming the streets everywhere, but the gate to the castle was especially busy, a lot of nobles arriving for the ceremony, though you’d still not been told what exactly was going on. There were enough balls and occasions for them to all blur, and as long as you did your job well, no one would care if you didn’t know what exactly was going on. Even one noble had several guards and maids surrounding them at all times, so for there to be a lot of nobles, it also meant there was a great deal of personnel.

At this giant crowd, you merely looked over the uncountable number of heads, trying to spot anything interesting. Mostly, you were just relieved the cart ride would be over soon, your hips aching after having sat on a hobbly surface for the last ten hours. You cracked your neck and took another quick glance, determining whether it was necessary for you to sit upright and act professional yet. 

And then you’d seen him. 

It was almost impossible to miss him, his head sticking far out in the crowds, though several spears obstructed the view. The same black hair, the same glare, though his clothes were leagues more expensive, an odd mix of the standard neat vest and pants mixed with heavy set boots, silver shoulder pauldrons and a wide belt around his waist. 

You didn’t want to point, but still turned to the driver. “That’s-”

“Who?” The driver said, looking at the crowd to find who you’d been so shocked by. “Ah. Captain Kenpachi? It’s pretty rare to see him here, I guess.”

To say your blood ran cold was an understatement.

“Captain?!”

He blinked. “Yeah? You mean the big fellow, right?”

Every last bit of air seemed to escape your lungs at a snail's pace, and you found it difficult to fit this bit of knowledge into your world view. “Isn’t his name... Zaraki?”

“Kenpachi Zaraki, yeah.” The driver focused more on the road now that the crowd was getting thicker, yelling out in front of him on multiple occasions to get people to move to the side whilst you were desperately waiting for him to continue speaking. “I knew it was something with a Z.”

“Oh.” You breathed out.

It took about a day after finding out you’d had an affair with one of the most powerful men in the country before you’d gathered your sensibilities again. At first you kept tripping, distracted by your newfound knowledge, but after a quick slap by Tièna after you asked her to repeat herself, the rhythm of work brought you back, though even now the thoughts were waiting at your peripheral. 

Your mistress at her entrance to the proceedings had done swimmingly and, at the very least, you’d not lost focus, even when Zaraki had been right there in the crowd, talking to someone. Your eyes had been fixated on him, but the second he turned even slightly in your direction, you’d looked away. Well, it wasn’t your direction. It was Lady Tièna’s. 

And yet… he’d shown up a few days later. You’d nearly gotten a heart attack as you’d walked in with tea, and he’d sat on the chaise. He’d not fit in with the feminine style your lady preferred, and when you sat down the cups, he threw you a mean-looking grin that assured you he remembered you clearly. Lady Tièna had been unsure how to deal with him, especially since he didn’t give a clear reason for his presence. You knew what he was there for, the slightly manic eyes he held whenever you two made eye contact making you foolishly imagine that the late night talks and moments of passion had actually meant something to him. 

Another week, and you’d realized they’d meant nothing. He just saw you as an easily accessible whore, conveniently here in the capital while he did some business. The first moment he’d gotten you alone, he’d made this clear, shushing you whenever you tried to speak up and pressing your face in a pillow while he made use of you. Despite the more comfortable setting, the soft cushions and the feathers beneath you, it was a lot more uncomfortable and painful compared to the hard and wet forest floor.  

It had broken your heart a little, despite how you knew it was foolish to even let it surprise you. You tried to get used to the new set of circumstances, despite knowing how close to execution and betrayal you were. Just a single glance from someone who would tell, a single word spread too far, a single meaningful sigh the ladies would hear from your lips. 

Again, it was the rhythm of work that brought you back. It would always be like that, the clear structure of Lady Tièna’s care making your own life fade to the background. You washed, bathed, cleaned, refreshed, and maybe at the end of the day, you would not think too long about your situation. You had more important things to think of. The celebration of the Third. The entire reason for coming here. The one’s dependant on your pay.

You lived towards the festivities, hoping it would rid your mind of all these thoughts, and when the celebration did arrive, you were disappointed it did not consume you as much as you’d promised yourself it would. The ceremony lasted the entire day and night, but your presence was not required after the garden luncheon. Desperately trying to find something to pass the time with, you sneaked away towards the staff rooms, hopefully getting in a nap before your late shift. You’d have to clean Tièna’s room, empty her bedchamber pot, ready her late night tea, remove her laundry and notify the other staff of whatever she wished to eat tomorrow. 

Close to your destination, you locked eyes with a rather nervous looking guard whose eyes were darting between you and something behind you. Paying a little more attention, you suddenly heard some boots behind you, heavy-set, and at a pace you’d recognize in your dreams. 

“You certainly walk faster when it’s on marble.” The new arrival said. You turned around and saw Zaraki, and immediately bowed deeply, feeling the guard's gaze burn into your back. Despite your fears for Zaraki- captain Kenpachi acting improperly with an audience, he seemed to agree that an extra set of eyes was unwanted. With a quick look toward the guard, the man was dismissed, and somehow the realization that it was now just the two of you was neither better nor worse. The captain looked you over. “How’re you doing?”

You took a shaky breath

“I am doing fine.” Slightly unsure how to carry yourself in this situation, you just clasped your hands in front of your body and wiggled back and forth on the heel of your feet. “Is there... any reason you stopped me?”

“Do I need a reason?” He took a step forward and placed a finger under your chin, a low noise escaping him as he got a good look at you. “If I want to see my woman, I will.”

You interrupted his reveling by taking a step back. 

“My lord, that’s not something-” To say you were at a loss for words would be a lie, since you knew exactly what you needed to say, but did not dare phrase it the way your heart wanted to. “That’s not something that’s proper.”

His brows furrowed and he crossed his arms, and you would’ve accused him of pouting if he did not seem so incredibly scary doing so. He was big, and everytime you looked at him, at his bulging arms and struggling clothes, you believed the rumors you’d been told about him since arriving here a little more. How he’d halved a man wearing armor with a practice sword on the battlefield, how he’d punched an iron gate open, how he’d ripped off a head clean using only his thumb and index finger. Rumors. Scary stories. Tales that felt more real with each second you spent in his vicinity.

“Proper? I don’t think a maid who let’s herself get fucked in someone else’s bed can talk about being proper.” He grumbled, his voice raspy and low, making you need to focus to catch some of his sentence. 

“I hardly let you.” You argued, before catching yourself in your rudeness. You’d basically implied he’d raped you, a harsh accusation to throw, despite not being completely untrue. He’d cornered you after meeting him again in the halls of the castle and had barely spoken before dragging you into an unused room meant as a secondary room for your employer, undressing himself before you’d even gathered what was happening. Still, he was more powerful than you could even fathom, both in strength and status, and using the staff was only customary in some houses. Perhaps you’d believed for too long that the castle was different. You cleared your throat. “My apologies. I meant to say that I appreciate your kindness, but there is no need for you to concern yourself with me.”

“Stop being so uptight.”

“I do not mean to be.” 

“Well, you are.” He crossed his arms. “You were a lot more fun while traveling.’

A livid feeling bubbled at the base of your neck and for a second, you saw actual red. It took a deep breath and a full ten seconds of re-composing yourself before you opened your mouth to speak again, hoping the time had been enough to wash away the bitter and angry tone you wanted to place on your words so badly. “Captain Zaraki, whilst traveling I was unaware of who you were, and I’m sure you were unaware of my position.”

“Nah, I knew you were working for that Tièna woman. I asked Madarame while we were in Lippenfield.” 

“If you knew then why would you-?” You cut yourself off and found a wholely dehumanizing reason for it. Ah. He’d really let you whisper confessions of your feelings all the while knowing it was nothing but a fling for him. A fun distraction before he settled down with one of those ladies who wouldn’t even make eye contact with you. 

If anyone knew what had happened, they wouldn’t put any sort of blame on his end, while you’d most certainly be sent home for disgracing your employer. Even if he had any sort of feelings toward you, which you doubted, the only one at risk here during this conversation was you. You needed to remain poised, and show no sign of weakness or anger. The same as usual.

“I see. I apologize for my insolent behavior then, but I must still ask you to forget about me, since I neither want to cause trouble for my lady, nor be an issue for a more suitable match.” Footsteps in the distance were a lot louder when you didn’t want to be caught. You turned around to see who approached and blanched when you noticed it was the second in command to Za- captain Kenpachi.  The last thing you needed was any more eyes. “If there’s nothing else I can do for you, I will take my leave now.”

Risking decorum, you just walked away, gripping the fabric of your dress tightly. Tears pricked at your eyes, and you would surely start bawling if you heard even one thing they said, no matter the subject. To avoid losing yourself like that, you hurried to the chambers of your mistress. The staff chambers would be too full at a time like this, so behind the curtains of your ladies bedchamber would certainly be a better place to cry until you stopped feeling so goddamn desolate. 

The two men you left behind watched as you left, and the second you got out of earshot, Madarame turned to his captain, his arms crossed. 

“How’d it go, cap’?”

Kenpachi Zaraki sighed deeply, before turning around and heading the other direction. Madarame followed suit, suppressing the slight amusement he felt at seeing his captain so out of sorts.

“I have no idea.” He shrugged, deciding to go to the training fields to find some poor chums to work off some energy, since his plan A for that purpose had promptly backfired. Zaraki glowered as he walked through the halls, many people flinching at the sight of him. Madarame only sighed and tried to save face by smiling at the passerby. The captain sighed deeply. What had changed here? She’d been blabbering about love before they’d split and now she could barely look at him without looking half out of her mind with anger. So she hadn’t expected him to be a captain, what did that matter? Was she angry he didn’t say anything about that or something? Ugh. “Women are way too complicated.”

“Hear hear.” His second in command agreed. 

“What’s your take on it?’ Kenpachi asked, feeling a bit disgruntled he had to ask for advice on the topic, but he was getting tired of seeing you dart around so skittishly. He wanted you back, the wide-smiling beauty that had trailed behind him and gripped him by both his body and mind in the span of two weeks, but all he saw now was a ghost of you, bruises, polite words and dark circles hiding you from him. “My main idea now is to just kill that countess.”

Madarame sputtered and looked around to see if anyone had overheard that. “What would that fix? I know it’s my job to get you out of political messes, but don’t just charge into them!”

“Do you have anything better?”

“Anything! Anything is better!” 

“Hmm.” He considered some alternatives for a second. If killing that cunt of a countess would create too much of a fuss, surely he could just take you for his wife? There’d be bitching about that surely too, but at least he wouldn’t need to apologize to any of the other captains that way. A dark voice within him said that you’d probably be too loyal to that woman to just leave with him after this entire fiasco was over, or you’d have sixty other objections, like women were prone to have. He’d need to be your only right option, and make you certain that that was the case. “I think I have an idea.”

“Please don’t tell me about it. It’ll only ruin my evening.”

It didn’t sound that dramatic in his own mind. He just needed to ruin you for anything else. If one of those uptight ladies, preferably that Tièna woman, would walk in on him fucking you, you’d probably get fired, and you’d be ripe for the taking. If anything, he was saving you from a long time of being a servant, since Zaraki for one, was quite interested in what you’d look like taken care of. The stench of nobility and servitude had to be washed off of you, and he could once again smell and touch you, in all your natural glory.

“Your call.” Zaraki shrugged, rolling his shoulders as he walked further down the halls, his mind shortly remembering how you’d looked while he had followed you, the sight of your back one he missed already. Quickly pushing away the sentimentality, he readied himself to bash some faces in, the training grounds surely lessening some of the aggression he felt. 

And then after, he could come and get you. 

“Mdni” and they’re making a fanfic about a minor 💔💔💔(that doesn’t have a canon adult timeskip)/(they’re using material when they were a minor)