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luveline · 6 months ago

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I wanted to know how Aaron Hotchner would react to discovering the existence of a daughter (something from college perhaps), she would be his copy both in appearance and personality

—Hotch has a surprise visitor and the world spins on a new axis. daughter!reader, 2.2k

readers physical traits like hair and skin colour are not mentioned, but she is described as looking like her mother (also not described) and as sharing some characteristics with Hotch!<3 I also altered canon so that Hotch and Haley take a break at college

“There is a kid in your office.”

“Morgan?”

Hotch pulls his phone away to check. D. Morgan blinks on his phone screen. It’s a slightly absurd sentence.

“There’s a child in my office?” he asks, returning the phone to his ear.

“I’m standing with her right now. She won’t tell me who she is. Anderson let her in.”

“How old?” Hotch asks, scratching his cheek. God forbid he steal two minutes of peace in the bathroom.

“How old are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m twenty two,” a feminine voice says.

“You said kid,” Hotch says, frowning.

“Anyone under twenty five is a kid to me. Are you on your way?”

He sighs. “Yeah,” he says, and hangs up, dropping the small body of his phone into his pocket. Twenty two isn’t a kid, it’s a year younger than Spencer was when he started at the BAU; Hotch doesn’t underestimate the intelligence of young adults. Why you’re in his office is another thing. He can’t have one day without inconvenience.

Hotch makes his way into the BAU office and up the stairs to the half level where his own office resides. Morgan leans against the door with his arms crossed, standing to attention when Hotch passes.

“Thanks, Morgan,” Hotch says.

Morgan nods, sending a curious gaze at you before he leaves.

You’re dressed very formally for someone your age, but it’s not as though this is different from the norm of the building. You have on a dark shirt with a starched collar and a fitted blazer, a crisp skirt, and leather Mary Jane heels, one pressed flat to the back of the other.

You stand when he comes in.

“Mr. Hotchner?” you ask.

“Yes?” he asks.

You have a small file in your hand. Paper with worn edges pokes out of one side as though you’d been looking through it and put it hastily away, and the Manila file itself is fresh.

“Do we know one another?” he asks.

You look familiar. It’s possible he would’ve known your parents —it could make sense. A colleague or acquaintance assumed he could help you with something, and you in your naivety you made your way in.

“I think you know my mother.”

“And she was?” he prompts. Not impolite, but needing to move forward. He’s very busy.

You take a small step back. “Mr. Hotchner,” you say again, something nervous in your eyes as you lift your chin, “I don’t want to waste your time. I’m aware I might sound foolish, or that this… might not be something you want to hear, but. My mother told me you met in college, and that…”

You bite your lip.

He’s incredibly confused now. Not one to let a stranger suffer whether in real pain or awkwardness, he opens his hand. “Can I?”

“Yes, sir,” you say.

You don’t want to pass it over, but you do as he’s asked.

The photograph is a shock, held with a paperclip to a magnolia sheet of paper. It’s of Hotch, undoubtedly, a much younger Hotch sitting on a bench with a woman he recognises immediately. He only looks at her, and he knows why you’re here, and he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

“Do you remember her?” you ask quietly.

He doesn’t answer.

“She says you’re the only man that could… possibly be my father.” You hold your hands behind your back.

He lifts the photograph. There’s not much else to look at, only your photo ID, your birth certificate where he is glaringly not listed, as well as your mother’s birth certificate, and proof of her enrollment at George Washington University.

You look a little teary. Trying very hard to be sober, as you have been since he laid eyes on you, but clearly getting more and more upset as time goes on. He’s feeling a similar ache, a searing pain in his chest, staring at you from over the Manila folder to really, really look at you. He swears he can see something of himself in your face, though he’s not sure what. Perhaps it’s wishful thinking.

There’s certainly some of him in your frown.

“I think you should sit down,” he says softly.

You sit down immediately in the chair you’d inhabited a few minutes ago.

He’s not sure what to say. Are you sure it could only be him? Is your mother? But you’re looking at him with an expression he practically trademarked, whether he wanted to or not, and the proof is in his hands: you’re your mother’s daughter, and Hotch would have slept with her almost twenty three years ago. He doesn’t need much time to do the math.

“I realise my word alone isn’t a lot to go on, sir, so– so if you’d want to, I’ll of course submit for a paternity test. Or if you want nothing to do with me, that’s okay too.”

“It’s not okay,” he says, closing your folder.

Your eyes widen just a touch.

“Can I sit with you?” he asks.

You push your chair back to make lots of room. He sits in the chair besides yours, cautious that being across a desk from you is insensitive, or cold, at least.

He looks at you and he’s sure that you’re his. The longer you sit there, the more sure he becomes.

“I do want a paternity test,” he says, watching your tight nod.

He believes you. And truly, if he was unsure of what you’re saying he’d still give you grace now, because the first time you meet your father should be full of love. He should’ve been there to hold you in one arm twenty two years ago, he should’ve been there for you through everything he’s already missed.

“But I believe you,” he says.

“You do?”

“I’m a very good judge of character. I know that you believe what you’re telling me completely,” he says.

“How?”

“When you’re nervous your hand drifts to your chest, but you didn’t move when you suggested I’m your father. You haven’t once checked the door or looked toward the camera in the corner of the room.” And the full truth. “I want to believe you.”

“Why?” you ask.

“You look like your mother, but…” He lets himself smile. “You sound like me.”

You laugh under your breath. “Hopefully not so deep.”

“I’ve had it described to me as mellifluous.”

“I’ve wanted to hear your voice since I can remember. My mom didn’t talk about you much, but I’ve always wondered. She told me she didn’t know who you were, and…”

“And you believed her. Any child would do the same.”

“She’s made mistakes.” You look to him with eyebrows gently pinched, asking him to understand. “But I looked you up. When she told me your name, I looked for you online, and… I always thought I never needed you, even if I wanted to know you. I thought you might want to know me. I thought that a man like you would want to know.”

There’s something you’re not saying. Hotch doesn’t mind. “Of course I want to know you.”

You chance a smile at him. “You really believe me?”

“You were expecting me to turn you away.”

“No, just– I’m not a kid, even if your colleague said so. And I’m not an image of you, I don’t have your eyes. All I have is that photograph. There's not much evidence to go on.”

He sees no reason why a young girl like you would walk into his office and tell him who you are. Self preservation insists on a paternity test, and soon —UnSubs haven’t ever done something so conniving as imitating a family member yet, but there’s no prediction for evil— but Hotch has an inherent sense of the truth.

“What do you do?” he asks.

You frown. “Sorry?”

“What do you do?” he asks again, “You’re dressed like a lawyer.”

You nod with a smile you’re pushing into a flat line unsuccessfully. “I’m at GWU. For law, like you and my mom.”

“She only just told you who I am?” He speaks each word carefully.

“The photo fell out of an old album, and I had a funny feeling. I asked her about it and she said I’m too much like you. She admitted it like the secret had been eating her alive.” You look at your hand on the armrest. “We aren’t getting along right now.”

“I don’t know why she wouldn’t tell you. Or me,” he says honestly.

“I don’t know either.”

Hotch is expecting a lot more awkwardness than he feels as he puts his hand over yours. You stay very still.

“Thank you for coming here today.” He gives your hand the barest squeeze and stands. “Have you eaten? I could take you out for dinner,” he suggests.

You stand with him. “Are you serious?” you ask, gentle and pleased at once.

“I think you have a lot to tell me, and I’d love to listen.”

“You’re not working?”

Sometimes, sometimes, there are things that can be worked around or held on the back burner. You and Hotch go for lunch.

—

Aaron Hotchner knows many important people. Your paternity test takes a day, less than twenty four hours from the time you both submit samples, but you have a class you can’t miss and he’s sure you’re nervous, so you don’t meet again for two days regardless. By then, you both know the results. (And Aaron’s had to have a very strange conversation with his wife, in which she doesn’t believe him, and then has to sit down.)

He can admit to being far more protective of you once he knows the truth for sure, though he knows it before the results come back. You’re his daughter, and he’s left you without a father for two decades of your life, your formative years, time he can never get back.

He doesn’t even know what to do. How can he make up for it? Twenty two years of birthday cards? He feels like buying you a diamond necklace with a stone for each year, and then he wants to buy you a house, but mostly he wants to give you a hug. He thinks about it for so long the morning before he’s scheduled to meet you again that it makes him as upset as he’s ever been in his life, desperate to say sorry to you and your mother and furious with her for keeping you a secret.

He thinks of all those years without an inkling of your existence, and now you’re the only thing he can think about. His remorse makes him sick.

You’re smiling when you see him. For a millisecond, you look like Jack.

“Hi, Mr. Hotchner!” you say, standing from the table, your formal dress and cardigan pressed neatly, your hands held behind your back.

‘Mr. Hotchner’ will need to be fixed quickly, though he won’t force you to call him anything else. He can’t help himself, however.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says softly.

You pause, and you laugh. “This is weird.”

He doesn’t mean to make it weirder, but he opens his arms, and he waits for an indication that you might not want a hug before he leans in to hold you. You’re still so young. There’s still time for him to be a good father to you.

He can’t say everything he needs to in his hug, and at the end of the day he’s a stranger to you; you probably don’t want him to hug you for too long. But he rubs your back, and he promises himself that he won’t let you down twice.

Your arm curls tentatively behind his back. For a second, you press your face to his shoulder and breathe.

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away.

Your lip twitches to one side like his would when presented with such heavy sincerity. “I’m okay. How did, um, Haley take the news?”

“She just wants to meet you, okay? You’re part of my family now.”

You give no indication you’ve heard what it is he’s saying to you, or whether you like it as you sit down at the dinner table. He quite likes that some way, somehow, you’ve become like him, but he wonders if he might not love it so much when he asks how your mom is taking this new development and you just smile.

“We’re going to tell Jack about everything this weekend,” he adds. “He’ll be excited, if no one else.”

“And Haley doesn’t mind?”

“She’s not going to ask you to babysit anytime soon, honey, but no, of course she doesn’t. He should meet his sister before she’s too old for legos.”

You actually laugh.

Dad humour transcends age, and for that, Hotch is grateful.

—

only after I finished did I wonder if I misinterpreted the request and this was supposed to be x reader with a shared daughter so if that’s the case I’m sorry original requester!! and I can totally write that if that’s what you meant 🫶❤️

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds #aaron hotchner and daughter!reader #aaron hotchner fluff

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kisavatore · 10 months ago

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Goth/alt cc finds part 2-Tops & Bottoms

*some of the tops in cas

Tops [Part 2]

Bottoms

PT.1 | PT.2 | PT.3 | PT.4

#sims 4 cc clothes #ts4 cc clothes #sims 4 cc clothing #ts4 cc clothing #sims 4 goth cc #ts4 goth cc #sims 4 alt cc #ts4 alt cc #sims 4 alternative cc #ts4 alternative cc #alternative cc #goth cc #sims 4 female cc #ts4 female cc #sims 4 female clothing #ts4 female clothing #sims 4 cc finds #ts4 cc finds #cc finds

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solbaby7 · 2 months ago

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Hiii, can I get a margarita with a salt rim on the rocks, please? Thank you!💕

[ “got a mouth on you. someone should teach you how to use it.” + smut + rhysand ]

-> BLURB BAR <-

Rhysand liked wild things—had this affinity for collecting strays; plucking them from their prisons and providing a life of freedom and luxury.

Maybe that’s why he’s so drawn to you. This rabid animal of a thing with a serious aversion to proper clothing and absolutely no regard for others personal boundaries. “Back for more charity work?”

“Is that how you think of my visits? I’m hurt.”

You look down at him with amusement, crouched low on a branch with a skirt so short it takes effort not to stare. “We both know you aren’t,” You make tree climbing look easy, bare toes trodding across branches that don’t look sturdy but hold strong bearing your weight. “What’d you bring me this time?”

Rhysand dangles the wicker basket before him with two fingers. He’s teasing, offering; luring you in closer as the laws of the Middle insists that its lands and the creatures in it must welcome you and not the other way around. “Come see for yourself, trouble.”

He’s grown fond of the wild way you move, confidently twisting and ducking through the forestry—the breathable linen of your strapless top flows with the breeze. Handmade necklaces kiss at your clavicle, all braided leather with bleached bones, carefully woven shells and shiny geodes. Once you get close enough he can see the neat braids peeking through loose strands, interwoven thread adding pops of color in haphazard places. “More naughty words on paper,” You chuff out when the weight of two books sits in your hands. The pages are pristine; probably first addition and perfectly cared for. “Always knew you High Lords were just pampered perverts.”

“Didn’t seem to bother you when you read the last two I brought you.”

Rhysand is sure he’ll have dreams about the pretty blush on your cheeks. He’s certain fantasies have planted their seed with intent to grow and grow like fucking ivy until nothing in sight could be see but you and that feisty furrow of your brow and the sharp roll of your eyes. Curious hands dig around the basket, sifting through cured meats and cheeses, parchment paper and oil pastels, rich fabrics and a case full of fresh sewing needles. “You trying to turn me into a fucking housewife or something? Charcuterie boards and fixing the buttons on your rich boy clothes.”

“Got a mouth on you.” Rhys chuckles in amusement, aubergine irises twinkling with silent adoration. “Someone should teach you how to use it.” You don’t seem the slightest bit ashamed when forcing him to hold onto your things, urging him to follow with a jerky nod of your head. “Could start by saying thank you.”

“Make me.”

Something in the air shifts. It alters the way he stands. Awakens a creature lurking in his shadow and its sights lock on you—the female with no fear of monsters. No, instead you hunt them, wrangle them up and tame them. Rabid beasts crooned into fucking house pets and Rhysand yearned to be the stray you took pity on. “Make you use your mouth properly? Or make you say thank you?”

“Both.” He’s hooked; shoes sinking into your footsteps until thick forestry breaks into a clearing with a house built smack dab in the middle. It’s surrounded by flowers, lavender and lemongrass guarding hand built basins labeled with fresh produce to fend off freeloading animals. Ivy creeps up one side of the greenhouse attached to the back. “Show me how to do it like they do in the books you bring me.”

Is it possible for a mouth to dry up and salivate at once? Because Rhys suddenly finds his in an odd mix of something in between. You barely notice the clumsy way he sets aside your basket of goodies but you’re fully aware of the eager way he pulls you in, stopping you from taking a step further. “You sure you know what you’re asking for?”

You scan the length of him, running over the strong set of his shoulders and the practiced ease in the way his arms rest at his sides. Every breath strains against the soft cotton of his shirt, solid muscle radiating warmth when you rest the palm of your hand against it. It’s a slow drag down and you feel no shame for your curiosity when exploring the length of his abdomen, fingers hooking in the loop of his belt. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.” The metallic click of his belt unbuckling, the sharp undoing of tied dress pants. “But, I’m a visual learner.” Rhys’ heart throbs in his chest when you sink to your knees, blood rushing lower until the true extent of his affection towards you is standing at attention in your face.

“I can help with that,” He’s already easing down the top of your shirt, groaning at the sight of bare breasts and pebbled nipples. “Though, my teaching style is a little more…hands on.”

You don’t have time to ask what that means when he’s giving you exactly what you asked for; tugging down his pants just enough to show off a throbbing erection, ruddy tip leaking pre-cum. Two fingers tap at your cheek twice and you have no control over the way your mouth drops open.

He knows he’s being a little rougher than he should—it’s probably your first time giving head and yet he can’t slow down his movements. You don’t even complain, breathing through the way his cock is fed to you, spit glistening along the length and dribbling down your chin. “Quick learner, aren’t you?” Rhys praises so prettily, such nice words spewing free as if he wasn’t rutting his prick down your throat.

Thumbs clear away the tears from under your eyes when you gag. The rasp of his voice urging you to work harder, to hollow your cheeks and run your tongue along that vein that has blunt nails digging into the nape of your neck. Swears spill in a sloppy slur, hands guiding the bob of your head until his release shoots down your throat with a choked grunt.

There’s no way you don’t look a mess when you peer up at him. Fucked out eyes. Tears tracking down your cheeks. Bruised lips. A wet patch dripping down your chest and still you utter the words, “Thank you.”

Just perfection and something inside him screams ‘mine’ the same time Rhysand replies with a breathless, “You’re welcome.”

#acotar x reader #acotar #acotar x you #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand smut #high lord rhys #high lord rhysand #rhysand acotar #rhys smut #rhys acotar #rhys x reader #rhys blurb #rhysand blurb #blurb bar #posh high lord with a rough around the edges wildling #yes i’ve been watching game of thrones #his love language is gift giving #and acts of service 🤭

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dollwrites · 1 year ago

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𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!demon!reader, airhead!reader ( rono takes advantage of that ), stuck porn, compromising positions, reader is suspended mid air, :3 sensitive horns, mentions of rono’s bondage ( ball gag / bound hands ), thigh fucking, suggested free use post fic, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗱𝗼𝗹𝗹’𝘀 𝗯𝗮𝗱𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝗯𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗿𝗯𝘀 ∣ doll’s choice [ ronové + stuck ]

you were starting to think Ronové wasn’t really trying to help you.

he’d been so sympathetic to your plight when he first found you; the dainty, little chain that tethers your horns together tangled in the chandelier you’d been helping Glasyalabolas hang in one of the halls. of course, when you’d gotten stuck, Glas had simply laughed, and even went so far as to kick your step stool out from under you, and you’d been left, dangling by your delicate, little horns ever since, feet hovering just above the marble floor.

when Ronové happened to come across you, he’d crooned as he approached. an absolute mountain of a devil, you were grateful he’d been the one to find you in such a state. no doubt, even with his arms bound the way they were, he would have no trouble lifting you up until your horns were freed. “Aw, haha.” perhaps you didn’t notice the wicked intent in his dark chuckle as he approached, running his leather-bound forearms over your body as he seemed to take in your predicament. “You poor thing. You need some help getting down, so you?” you’d been certain that must’ve meant he was going to help you, so you nodded in desperation, smiling in relief. the pressure on your horns would be lifted soon. you wouldn’t be stuck like this anymore.

but now, as you stared down, watching Ronové’s cock slide back and forth in between your thighs, you weren’t so sure he was really going to free you. “Rono…” you whine soft, nibbling on your lip. “Are you still going to help me?”

“Mhm,” Ronové growls more than answers, a subtle bubbling in his throat as he drags his face against your shoulder. the ball gag in his mouth is wet with spit, as if taking advantage of you in such a state has made him foam with lust and depravity. “But… a beautiful, little devil all wrapped up like this? Well, I’d be a fool not to take advantage of your predicament. Now, keep those soft thighs clenched so I can fuck them.” his voice is always just a little bit altered by the crimson obstruction that his sharp canines bite into, but it was astounding how he’d adapted, and was able to form sentences, you thought.

the tip of his cock was swollen and pink as he rammed it into the fleshy, supple seal of your thighs as you tighten your muscles, obediently. you whimpered, feeling the rugged veins that spiderwebbed his manhood rub against your flimsy panties beneath your skirt. in a way, Ronové was a superior devil to you. a much stronger one, at the very least, so resisting him would be impossible.

the way his moans rumble against the gag in his mouth when he gets closer. “Good girl, just like that. Tighten those muscles for me.” as he purrs to you in praise, he smears his face over your shoulder, leaving a sticky, shiny layer of drool from his constant slobbering over the gag. “Ah, make it feel just like a nice, warm cunt and maybe I won’t have to rip those wet panties off and pound you out.” as if to exaggerate his threat, both of his arms, swaddled in leather, hook around your waist and gives your body a firm tug downwards, to force you to perch on his cock as he rams it between your thighs as they get stickier and stickier from his smearing of precum. you yelp, feeling the chains pull on your horns. the hundreds of nerve endings located there screaming with the intensity of his display. but you mewl, too. you can’t help it. his cock is snuggled flush against your panties, thrusting between your thighs at a rapid-fire pace, and you feel stimulated from the tip of your horns all the way to your throbbing clit, electrified. though your feet were falling asleep from dangling there, helpless, you didn’t even bother to think about them. your hands clenched into tight fists, your eyelids flutter, and Ronové chuckles, hoarsely. “What pretty, distressed sounds this silly little devil can make. You’re going to make me cum, just like this…”

panting, you try to turn to look over your shoulder, “A-and then you’ll get me down?”

Ronové laughs, hoarsely. “What gave you that idea?”

“Y— you said you’d help me!” you cried, baffled by his seemingly sudden change of plans.

“Oh I will help, don’t you worry,” he explains, though you can hear the grinding of his teeth against the gag as he snorts in pleasure through his nostrils. “Once I’m done with you, I’ll be sure to tell the first devil I come across that you’re all tied up in here. I’m sure that after you’re used to your limit by however many more come across you, someone will get you down, sweetheart.”

#ronové #ronove x reader #ronove x you #whb ronove #what in hell is bad x reader #what in hell is bad #what in hell is bad x you #wihib #ronove #wihib x reader #wihib x you #wihib smut

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caliburn-the-sword · 6 months ago

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the main talking point of a lot of people that love eah but bash on descendants is that "eah was deep!! descendants was just a disney knockoff that meant nothing and was just a cashgrab" SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP (to be clear i am an eah lover). analytical thoughts to follow:

consider also, that auradon is portrayed as very technologically advanced in direct opposition to the isle being associated with magic (even with its ban) and a lot of of clearly second hand, worn and torn fridges and tvs and whatever

also, the fact that she felt PRESSURED to not only culturally assimilate into auradon culture, but alter her physical appearance to assimilate further. consider mal's costuming in the first movie. on the isle, we see her with (what i assume is her natural) purple hair, leather, etc. she is even, to a degree, gender nonconforming. pretty much the ONLY time we see her in skirts is when she's trying to impress ben for her plan to work

compare this with the hair costuming in descendants 2:

(i actually can't remember which scenes the third one was in but whatever) they have taken away her sparkle!! she's assimilated firstly into auradon fashion by dressing in pastels like them, and in SKIRTS which she textually only wore in the first movie when she wanted to impress ben. now with the added context of her wanting to impress auradon. and it really speaks a lot that she feels she has to conform to gender norms more in order to be accepted by auradon

and what about hair. she's felt the need to not only change the way she dresses, but change her hair to the eurocentric standard, so blonde that it's almost WHITE to conform to auradon's society (because let's be real, her mum's a fairy/dragon and her dad is a greek god. i'd be MORE surprised if she was DYING her hair purple than it being natural). changing your natural hair in order to to conform to and be accepted by the majority... where have i heard that one before??

shoutout to @soniccat

(to be clear. it is not a one for one analogy. "hey using a spell to force someone to forget what you did is an invasion" to me is like going "well actually people were right to fear mutants in x-men because some of them were walking weapons" IT'S A METAPHOR THAT IS ALSO A PLOT DEVICE)

('backwater' being used ironically, do not let my meaning be misconstrued here. a better way to word it is that immigrants are guilttripped into having to be 'grateful' for their oppression in a first world country because microaggressions or assimilation is considered better than the alternative, being back in your home country where living conditions may be considered poorer)

in the sense that for instance, jay put a VK spin on supporting feminism. like yes, he could've done it the rulefollowing, create a petition and gather signatures route, but INSTEAD he finds and exploits an existing loophole to let lonnie join the team. or evie shouting out dizzy's creations, uplifting her voice despite the fact she could've still taken the credit since she was the one that paired the outfit with the accessories. etc

are the descendants movies objectively bad movies?? yes. but this was to me, one of the most compelling analogies for immigrant struggles. take particular notice how almost ALL the main VKs are either racebent from the original disney movies (evie, carlos, uma) or were already based on an ethnic character (mal, jay)

but wait, mal is the whitest white girl to walk the planet. how is she already based on an ethnic character?

glad you asked. it is quite unclear in the descendants movie (basing its portrayal of maleficent on the disney sleeping beauty) is a fairy or a dragon. while the maleficent movie isn't canon to the descendants universe, i'm still going to use the fact that she's a fairy with the magical ability to turn herself into a dragon

a lot fairy folklore comes from ireland. the name maleficent itself, and i quote

shares similarities to the name millicent. millicent has irish (or scottish) roots (even a coat of arms) as in

thus one could argue that maleficent herself could potentially be irish coded

whether or not you agree with the idea that maleficent is irish coded, it is undeniable that mal is the daughter of hades, a greek god. it's a shame that that was a retcon in the third movie and not planned from the start, because the role could've gone to an actually greek actress (please google the ottoman empire and greek independence day if you still think it's not fitting for me to group mal with the others)

where was i going with this?? right. it's extremely telling that most of the main/side VKs, save for gil, are ethnic, in the story of a group of misfits finding themselves in an unfamiliar country with new social norms for them to learn as they try to fit in with and become accepted by their peers

#descendants mutuals please see this i wanna know your thoughts so bad #disney descendants #descendants #mal descendants #evie descendants #jay descendants #fun fact!! descendants 2 is my favourite descendants movie because it's the one where i see ben the least

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brattyfork · 1 year ago

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his girl

summary: chris’ gf convinces him to make fresh love skirts

warnings: hair pulling, face fucking (kinda) nothing super crazy :3 super long tho, you can skip to the hearts, that’s where the fun stuff starts :>

my boyfriends brand has really been taking off lately. he’s reaching people outside of his fans so he’s been trying to add more clothing types. i suggested he should make a tennis skirt, just a simple one with the logo on it. he loved this idea and started getting it in the works.

once chris got them in he surprised me with it, a short white tennis skirt with “FRESH LOVE” on the right side. it was cuter than i could’ve ever imagined. he said that since i came up with the idea he wanted me and some of my friends to be the models for it. i, of course, said yes and texted madi and some of my other girlfriends.

they all said yes so chris set up the shoot date and told us all when to be there. i told chris i’d meet him there with the girls. i wanted to pick up my ladies and get hyped up before.

i picked them up, listening to madi’s “badbitch” playlist the whole way. i texted chris that we were there and he was already out front to show us where to go. he led us into the studio that had a little leather loveseat and an arm chair, the set looked good. chris got pulled away for “business” stuff so the girls and i made out way to the dressing room area. it was super cool, like something out of a movie, there were a bunch of mirror with lights around them over vanities with cute stools in front of each one. one of the makeup artists saw us oogling the room and pulled us all in, introducing us to the three people that would be doing our hair and makeup. we all took seats while they got all their stuff set up and we got started.

chris had asked me before what kind of makeup i thought we should do. i told him something simple so we didn’t take away from the clothes. my artist put me in a light but pigmented blue eyeshadow, lowkey winged eyeliner, mascara, some clear lip gloss and a shit ton of glittery highlighter. i loved the way it looked. madi and the other girls had something similar, altered based on their face shape, skin tone and what outfit they’d be in. we decided simple curls would be best, everyone’s being a bit different due to their hair type but it looked better that way.

it was time to get dressed and i was psyched. even though i had seen the skirts, i hadn’t tried them on. my skirt was white with the blue “fresh” and “love” heart on the corner, it hugged my hips perfectly and was just long enough to cover me. my stylist and i decided it would go best with a blue and white striped sweater. the other girls had different logo variations on their skirts, madi had the little deer while my other friend wore one with the “F” and the heart by it. we had all brought our own simple silver jewelry to go with our outfits and we decided we needed a little something more. madi slipped on some below the knee socks that ended up being over the knee anyway and i had some white knitted leg warmers. chris had already picked out shoes for every outfit, all sneakers of course. we slipped them on and tied them, giggling and squealing about how hot we looked. we took some pictures in the mirrors before chris knocked on the door.

“yall decent in there?” he slowly opened the door, showing his hand over his eyes. i said yes and he uncovered his eyes.

“you guys look great, we ready?” he said to all of us but he didn’t take his eyes off mine. the girls all said yes, making their way out the door past chris. i was behind them all hoping to see chris for a moment. i walked up to him, he looked me up and down, starting at the hem of my skirt, going all the way up to my head before looking back at my shoes.

“one of your shoes is untied baby”

“oh shit” i said as i began to kneel down to tie them

“let me do it” he beat me to the floor, sitting on one knee. he tied my shoe in a very methodical and particular way, then looked up at me and it was like the butterflies in my stomach had been given crack. he pushed himself up off his knee and slinked his arm around my waist. leaning into me, he moved my hair out of the way of my neck so he could leave a wet open mouthed kiss on my neck below my ear.

“you look so fucking good” he whispered in that low sultry voice i love so much. he placed a short kiss back below my ear and pulled away, leaving me standing there, frozen. chris started walking, noticing that i wasn’t behind him, he stopped and looked back at me. he held his hand out for me to grab, innocently staring at me as if nothing had happened. we both knew what he was doing, i could play that game too.

we started the shoot with pictures of just us girls in cute poses that showed off the skirts. i made sure to keep eye contact with chris, every time i looked back at him his pupils had dilated so his eyes were almost completely black when we were done.

after we had gotten all the ones of the girls, the director waved chris over.

“okay we’re gonna do some with just chris and his girl” he stated loudly, hinting for the other girls to move off set. they were done for the day so they started collecting their things. chris and i did some basic shots, sitting next to each other on the couch with his arm around me before he got up and sat in the arm chair next to the couch. i looked at him confused.

“come sit on my lap” i gave him a look but he tapped his thigh beckoning me over. i walked over to him, thinking this would be the perfect time to tease him a bit. i got situated on one of his thighs and crossed my legs. i could feel his very obvious half boner beneath my hip, realizing why he wanted me to sit on his lap. we took quite a few pictures, altering the position slightly every other shot. everytime i moved on him i made sure to press whatever body part was convenient to the area, pulling soft groans from him while he gave me warning looks.

we had finished with the shoot but i wasn’t satisfied. i got up off his lap, a tiny whine coming from him at the loss of pressure. i pulled one of the rings from my fingers and “accidentally” dropped it in front of me.

“whoops” i said almost comically. i bent down to pick up the ring, my backside turned to him, giving him a full view of my light blue lady panties i had on underneath the skirt. i stood back up slowly and wiggled my hips a bit, essentially shaking my ass in his face. when i turned to face him his eyes were dark, the smallest ring of blue surrounding his pupils. he adjusted himself as subtly as he could before standing up and walking past me.

chris went to wrap up the business end of the shoot and i made my way back to the dressing room. i passed my friends who had called their boyfriends to pick them up, saying quick goodbyes. when i got to the dressing room, madi was on one of the little stools.

“hey do you need a ride home?”

“nah my moms gonna take me, she’s just finishing up with the photographers and stuff”

“oh okay”

“dude, chris has been looking at you like he wants to eat you all day”

i blushed a little, slightly embarrassed that she had noticed our behavior.

“yeah i might’ve teased him a bit, i might be fucked”

“yeah i should hope so” we laughed over my choice of words, continuing to talk before we heard laura speak behind us. she stood in the door way with chris next to her with the scariest smile i’ve ever seen on his face.

“ready madi?”

“yep” she got up and grabbed her bag. “good luck” she whispered to me.

“you guys good?” laura asked chris and i. i started to respond but he beat me to it.

“yeah we’re fine” he said, not breaking eye contact with me.

they said their goodbyes and chris watched them turn a corner before closing the door locking it behind him.

🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀🫀

“you’ve been quite the tease today” he said while making his way over to the vanity i was sitting at. i stayed seated, too nervous to move.

once he was in front of me, he caressed my cheek, slowly moving his hand to the back of my neck.

“nothing to say now?” he taunted, tilting his head to the side. i opened my mouth slightly, trying to get any words out but i truly had nothing to say. he quickly moved his hand to the back of my neck, weaving his fingers into my hair before harshly pulling. my head flung backward, making me gasp louder than i would’ve liked.

“i asked you a fucking question slut”

“n-no daddy, just wanted to have a little fun”

“oh we’re gonna have a lot of fun” the knot in my stomach becoming tighter at his words. he moved his face closer, ghosting his lips against mine.

“are you gonna be good baby?”

“yes daddy, wanna make you feel good”

he finally connected our lips and tugged on my hair again, causing me to open my mouth just enough for him to slide his tongue in. his tongue ran over ever inch of my mouth, claiming it as his own.

“get on your knees sweet girl” he released my hair from his grip. i pouted at his order, the floor was basically concrete. his eyes didn’t soften though so i gave in, moving off my stool and kneeling on the cold hard floor in front of him. he moved his hand back to my cheek while undoing his belt and pants with the other hand.

“so pretty for me baby” he cooed, letting his cock spring up out of his boxers and slap his stomach. i looked up at him for permission and he nodded his head ever so slightly.

i licked my way up the underside of him, feeling every individual vein on my tongue before taking the tip into my mouth. i sucked on just the tip for a second while he watched me, neither of us breaking eye contact. i slowly took more of him into my mouth, making him let out a soft groan.

“fuck so good baby” i moaned at his praise, sending vibrations down his cock. this made him grab the top of my head by my hair and force himself down my throat, making me gag and struggle.

“i know baby, breathe through your nose… just like that, that’s my girl” i did as he said, breathing through my nose as calmly as i could. the second i got used to it, he began slowly fucking my mouth, his speed increasing with every thrust as he used me. at this point i was drooling and had tears running down my face, stained black from the makeup.

“i’m close baby” he warned me. i was trying to prepare myself for his load when he shot hot cum down my throat. i gagged before swallowing, keeping his gaze. i was catching my breath when he leaned down in front of me.

“what do you say sweetheart?”

“thank you daddy”

“good girl, i think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” i smiled and nodded frantically, making him chuckle.

he stood up, reaching his hands out for me to grab. he helped me up, making sure i was stable before taking his hands back to slip his shirt off. i stood staring at his torso, mesmerized by every inch of him. he smiled before grabbing at the hem of my sweater and pulling it off me.

“turn around, lean on the table” referring to the vanity behind me. i followed his orders, shuddering as i laid my stomach on the cold surface. i looked up to see him standing behind me via the mirror attached to the vanity, smirking.

he reached up under my skirt to grab my panties before dragging them down my legs. he left small kisses on the backs of my thighs and calves in his wake, causing the puddle in between my legs to grow. he ran one of his hands up the inside of my leg, making me whine louder as he got closer to where i needed him. he finally placed his hand over my pussy while bringing his other hand to unclasp my bra.

“so wet for me baby”

i whimpered at his words, “please daddy, need you”

he said nothing before slipping a finger into me at an agonizingly slow rate. i let out frustrated moans, desperate for more.

“use your words angel”

“more please, i need more” he slipped a second finger into me, giving into my pleas.

“fuck thank you daddy” he was thrusting his two fingers into me at the perfect pace, i could feel myself coming undone.

“daddy gonna cum, can i cum?” i babbled out.

“go ahead baby, cum all over my fingers”

i let go with his permission, my legs shaking from the pleasure. before i could fully come down from my high, i felt something prodding my entrance. i looked up into the mirror, meeting his gaze. he looked to me for consent, i nodded my head, not being able to stand another second without him inside me. he pushed into me, watching my face contort with pleasure, not once breaking eye contact.

chris wasted no time, instantly pounding into me at an insane pace, his hands squeezing my hips. the feeling overtook my body, forcing my head down on the table. he weaved his fingers through my hair to pull my head up roughly, forcing me to face the mirror.

“look at yourself while i’m fucking you”

i let out a high pitched squeal as he sped up his thrusts, i could feel myself nearing the edge.

“daddy fuck can i cum?”

“do you think you deserve to cum slut?”

“please daddy i’ve been so good”

“i think you should beg me”

i threw my dignity out the window, needing to cum more ever.

“please daddy please let me cum” he just stared at me, unconvinced.

“fuck- PLEASE”

“love when you beg me like a whore, go ahead, cum all over me” i let go before he could even finish his sentence.

“fuck i love when you cum on my cock, so fucking tight” he grunted out. his sharp thrusts became uncoordinated and sloppy.

i heard him let out a loud groan before i felt him release inside me, the feeling so incredible, so warm and full, i could stay there forever. he fucked into me slowly, riding out his high before leaning down to lay on my back.

i turned my head to him, “i think you should make panties next”

a/n: sorry this is so late and so fucking long holy shit. i’ve had this idea for like 2 weeks now but didn’t rly know how to execute it. i really like how it turned out, hope yall feel the same :3

#sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut

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bxtailoralteration · 11 months ago

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Refining Style: Masterful Craft in Leather Trouser and Skirt Tailoring

Leather trousers and skirts have a timeless appeal, adding a touch of edgy sophistication to any wardrobe. However, achieving the perfect fit with leather garments is crucial to ensuring both comfort and style. In this blog post, we will explore the intricacies of leather trouser and skirt alterations, delving into the specialized techniques required to enhance the fit, style, and longevity of these iconic wardrobe staples.

Leather Trouser Alterations:

Waist and Hip Adjustments:

Achieving the right fit around the waist and hips is essential for comfort and style. Leather trousers often require alterations to ensure a snug yet comfortable fit. Skilled tailors can take in or let out the waistband and hips to create a customized silhouette that flatters the individual's body shape.

Inseam Modifications:

Inseam alterations are crucial for achieving the perfect length and ensuring that the trousers drape elegantly. Whether shortening or lengthening, the tailor must work with precision to maintain the original design and ensure a seamless finish.

Tapering and Flaring:

Tapering the leg or adding a subtle flare can transform the overall look of leather trousers. Tailors skilled in leather alterations can adjust the leg width according to the wearer's preferences, creating a sleek and tailored appearance.

Pocket Placement and Size:

Leather trousers often come with pockets that may need adjustment for both aesthetic and practical reasons. Tailors can reposition or resize pockets to enhance the overall look and maintain a harmonious balance with the rest of the garment.

Leather Skirt Alterations:

Hem Adjustments:

Achieving the right length for a leather skirt is crucial for a polished appearance. Skirt hems can be shortened or lengthened based on the wearer's preferences and the desired style. A skilled tailor ensures that the original hemline is preserved, maintaining the integrity of the design.

Waistband Resizing:

Like leather trousers, leather skirts may require waistband adjustments to achieve a comfortable fit. Tailors can expertly resize the waistband, ensuring that it sits securely on the waist without compromising the overall look of the skirt.

Taking In or Letting Out Seams:

Changes in body size or personal preferences may necessitate alterations to the skirt's overall width. Skilled tailors can take in or let out seams, ensuring that the skirt hugs the body in all the right places or provides a more relaxed fit, depending on the wearer's preference.

Adding or Adjusting Zippers:

Zippers play a crucial role in both the fit and functionality of leather skirts. Tailors can expertly add or adjust zippers to accommodate changes in size, ensuring ease of wear and a seamless integration with the overall design.

Leather trouser and Leather skirt alterations are a testament to the craftsmanship required to master the art of tailoring. Entrusting these delicate and luxurious garments to a skilled tailor ensures that they not only fit perfectly but also retain their original allure. Whether it's achieving the ideal fit around the waist, adjusting the length, or enhancing the overall silhouette, the art of leather alteration breathes new life into these timeless pieces, allowing fashion enthusiasts to confidently embrace the elegance of leather in every step they take.

#Leather skirt alterations

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marzipanandminutiae · 11 months ago

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Rating the Femme en Noir Crimson Peak collection when I should be going to bed (it's not ALL critical, actually!)

no judgment at all to people who like the collection. nothing can achieve higher than a 7/10 because it's all synthetic. let's get into it

Edith Victorian Gown in Ivory

...yeah! that's basically Edith's nightgown copied exactly, so it's a 7/10 from me

2. Lady Lucille Victorian Dress With Capelet In Teal

What. um. What does this have to do with anything Lucille wears? It's blue velvet and it's a dress; there the similarities end. Why is there a ruffly capelet? That's something Edith wears, not Lucille. Why are there leg-o-mutton sleeves? Why is there no trim whatsoever? (that last is to become a running theme.) 3/10.

3. Allerdale Moth Wallpaper Babydoll Dress in Olive

There's a longer version, and were it a natural fabric, I'd be tempted to buy it and alter it into a blouse and over-skirt or something. This one is honestly pretty cute, though I forget what part of the house this wallpaper appears in. 7/10.

4. Edith Victorian Knit Cardigan in Olive

I get that they want to modernize these things for their target audience, but the original being SO much more fitted and sumptuous-looking just makes this one look sad. It's like Wish.com Edith. 5/10 for at least keeping the little velvet pumpkins.

5. Ghost Shoulder Bag

If this were leather, I would buy it. Not a huge fan of Margaret being the ghost on the front, though- I feel like Enola or Eleanor would be more photogenic. Poor Margaret. 6/10 though they're lucky I don't take points off for calling it "vegan leather" in the description. Be honest- it's plastic.

6. Belladonna Maxi Dress in Crimson Red

This is just an existing product of theirs But In Red. Pretty, but 4/10 for lack of effort.

7. Lady Mourning Victorian Gown in Black

It's the nightgown in black with a sash. Try harder. 3/10 and I'm skipping any color repeats labeled as different dresses from here on out.

8. Mourning Victorian Bonnet in Black

You know what? Yeah. Sure! That's a cute bonnet. Good job. 7/10.

9. Lace Mourning Scarf Veil in Black.

You can get a yard of nylon chantilly lace for less than $28, pretty as this looks. 5/10.

10. Victorian Cycling Pullover Sweater in Black

I mean. I guess. What does this have to do with Crimson Peak, exactly? Why is "Lucille" wearing puffed sleeves when, again, her clothing being tight has so much character logic behind it? It's a mystery. 5/10.

11. Victorian Velvet Bustle Skirt in Black

This didn't photograph well, but it appears to have some cool pleat details. I don't like 19th-century skirts getting shortened, but that's more a matter of personal preference than reaction to movie inspiration or lack thereof. 6/10.

12. Taffeta Edwardian Blouse in Marigold

This comes in multiple colors, but I picked the marigold because it illustrates that Wish.com effect once again.

The OG bodice from the movie that they're clearly trying to evoke. It has DETAIL! it has TRIM! It has LUSH FABRIC! And obviously you can't do that with a mass-produced piece, but ye gods, why would you set yourself up for failure by trying? If they hadn't gone for the look of a specific movie costume, their blouse wouldn't look disappointing by comparison. 5/10

13. Wicker Tilt Hat With Black Veil

Once again I feel they shot themselves in the foot here. It's cute! But it suffers by trying to be something that was better in the movie.

Not great by comparison; it's TOO close without going all the way. 6/10 because it is cute, though.

[skipped a bunch more veils and some lace mitts, which were cute but have nothing to do with How Well Or Poorly The CPeak Inspiration Was Executed In My Opinion]

14. Victorian Hands Belt in Silver

THIS IS NOT THE CRIMSON PEAK HAND BELT. THIS IS NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE THE CRIMSON PEAK HAND BELT. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS?

IT IS THIS 1970S BELT- WHICH, LIKE THE ONE IN THE MOVIE, IS NOT BASED ON ANY VICTORIAN ORIGINAL THAT I'M AWARE OF -THAT HAS BEEN COPIED 50000 TIMES. DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND WAIT FOR CUTTLE AND BONE TO HAVE ANOTHER PREORDER OF ACTUAL CPEAK HAND BELTS. 0/10.

Conclusion: Not all bad, but I feel like I actually would have gone in a more modern direction with the resources and limitations of this collection. You're never going to be as good as the movie costumes at their own game, not with mass-manufactured pieces. So why set yourself up for failure? Bringing the characters, themes, and motifs to a yet-unexplored time and place (with some Victwardian touches, of course!) seems like it would have been a better way to go about this, IMO.

Also stop being allergic to trim when you're taking inspiration from a movie with oodles of passementerie and beadwork and lace all over everything.

5/10 overall.

#long post #fashion #crimson peak #also for the love of everything can we get some natural-fiber clothes that AREN'T beige linen?#Gothic Natural Fiber Attire When!!!

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lola-writes · 5 months ago

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One-Eye & the Dreamer

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x O.C Aylana Velaryon

Word Count: 2,9k

Themes & Warnings: slow burn, friends to enemies, enemies to lovers, violence, blood, targcest, sexual themes, tension, drama, angst, fix-it of sorts, eventual smut, sexual inexperience, forbidden love, high valyrian, dance of dragons, POV first person

Summary: Aylana Velaryon foresees Aemond Targaryen's fate and assigns herself to alter it.

Written from Aemond and Aylana's POV.

Chapter 1 (Prologue)

Chapter 2 (Aemond)

Chapter 3 (Aylana)

Chapter 4 (Aylana)

- AYLANA –

I want a trouble-maker for a lover; blood spiller, blood drinker, a heart of flame, who quarrels with the sky and fights with fate, who burns like fire on the rushing sea.

The celebration was a suffocating spectacle. Meaningless chatter swirled around me like dust motes in a sunbeam, while servants drifted through the masses with food and drink, but the tension never abated. It sat there, uninterrupted. Like an echo before the words were even spoken.

Parched, I plucked a goblet from a passerby tray and secluded myself in the shade, twisting uncomfortably in my gown.

In that same moment, I watched the Queen return to the godswood. The masses parted from her course like waves before a storm. She strolled right up to her first-born who was nigh-on asleep in his chair at this point. A curt exchange, a forceful tug on his arm, and the heir to the throne stumbled out of the gardens, escorted by two King’s Guard.

“She looks unhappy, do you not think?” Jace had materialized beside me, plopping a grape into his mouth.

“Who?” I stifled, feeling as if though the heat had thickened my mind to mush, because I swore there was two of him.

“Helaena,” he said blatantly.

My eyes found the poor girl at the edge of the garden, a flurry of nervous energy. Her hands danced in a silent, rapid rhythm, a desperate attempt to soothe the storm within.

“Well, I would be too if I were engaged to my brother. Or even worse, to Aegon,” I laughed, nudging his shoulder, to which Jace rolled his eyes.

“It’s not funny,” he parried, “She looks positively miserable. We should do something.”

I raised a brow and turned to my brother, smiling slyly in equal disbelief and mockery, “What are we to do, dear brother? Kidnap her? Take her with us to Dragonstone? Do be serious.”

Jace shot me a look and shook his head in realization.

“Besides,” I proceeded, “I don’t believe happiness would touch any of the Greens with a five-foot stick.”

Jace scoffed and fixed me with a disapproving glare. He really did have a heart of gold and I chastised myself for being so insensitive. There was no disputing that the Greens were not as we had left them. A deep sadness settled around them like a poisonous mist, though Helaena appeared to bear the brunt of its affliction.

Alicent grabbed hold of Aemond next, her fingers digging into his leather sleeves, her air vibrating with repressed worry. Aemond listened intently, a flicker of defiance warring with a deeper concern in his face, though he spoke to her softly, listening attentively to her wishes, but by the look of it, he was being castigated. He caught my gaze then, a spark of surprise before a steely resolve settled in his stare. My own breath hitched in my throat as our eyes locked for a heartbeat, a silent exchange that crackled with something unspoken.

I looked away.

“Is everything well, sister?” Jace peered at me with eyes the color of a huntsman’s hound, rimmed with the most genteel glint.

“Naturally,” I forced a smile, pulling on my skirts. There was no denying the heat. The thick, moist air covered the city like a woolen blanket.

No breeze. No respite. Just the broiling sun.

“They’ve been gone a long time,” Luke appeared at his brother’s side with an ominous plea, wiping his upper lip.

I looked at him quizzically.

“Mother and Daemon,” he clarified.

Though, they had been absent all but ten minutes, my youngest brother had grown timorous beneath the scrutiny of the Greens.

“I’m sure they’ll be along,” I reassured him, though my voice must have lacked conviction.

“We shall go find them,” said Jace with great solicitude.

With the jolted realization that I’d be left all alone, I grabbed Jacaerys by the arm. “Do not,” I blurted out, a bit too loudly than I had intended.

“We won’t be long, sister,” Jace consoled.

“Our presence is of greater service than our absence.” My heart hammered strangely against my ribs as they turned to leave.

“Which is why you will remain here.”

Before I could protest further, Jace and Luke melted into the throng, leaving me nonplussed and perturbed, a chill whispering across my skin in the heat.

A longing gnawed at me as I gazed across the glittering waters below the city, out of which our volcanic island sprung a mere thirty-minute flight away. I shamed myself for faltering so easily. A one-eyed eunuch with a grudge and a court full of Greens shouldn’t be enough to dismay me.

Faint laughter followed by sounds of plunges and splashes could be heard down below. Women swam naked in the river, right beneath the castle. I grew acutely aware of the sweat leaking out of me in hot pulses, the heat clinging to me like a second skin, and the new dress that Mother had made me wear was not exactly helping my affliction.

What I would give to be low born for a day.

A low voice, rich with an accent that hinted at sun-baked sands, startled me out of my musings, “With beauty like that you’ll leave cities in ruin.” His accent exposed what his complexion would otherwise suggest. But my train of thought was cut short when I met his heavy gaze.

Dark eyes, rimmed by thick black lashes, his skin olive and his hair gleamed like onyx in the summer sun. He donned a golden robe of samite, fitted tight around his waist by a jeweled belt, adorned by the sigil of Sunspear. A sharp rush of reservation ran down my spine.

“A Dornishman in the capital is a rare sight,” I remarked, disregarding the honeyed words that coated his flattery.

“Indeed.” Something amused and dangerous played in his eyes as he wafted a hand by his face. “We don’t like the smell,” he grinned, making the corners of his eyes crinkle.

A wry smile tugged at my lips. I could hardly disagree with him about that.

The stifling heat might have been unbearable, though the city’s stench was masked somewhat by the prince’s cologne – a curious mix of citrus and spice, like a desert oasis after a long journey.

“Prince Marius Martell,” he rumbled, his voice as rich and warm as Dornish sand. He pressed soft lips to my knuckles, dark eyes never leaving mine, “At your service.”

The son of Qoren Martell of Dorne - a traitor to the Crown, some say.

Their people were said to be descendants of the Rhoynar.

Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken.

And rightfully so, because they had never been conquered, and bent the knee to no king. Not even Aegon the Conqueror who united all of Westeros could bring Dorne to heel. Their independence had always sparked a thrill in me, though their reputation at court was as one might expect.

“I’ve been told that to trust a Martell is to be disappointed.”

He laughed. It was such a big, hearty, exuberant laugh, it came as a surprise. He tilted his head to the side. “Princess Aylana,” he chuckled, his timber disarming. “You Targaryens take yourselves far too seriously.”

My name on his lips caught me off guard.

“Your father joined forces with the Triarchy against Prince Daemon for control of the Stepstones some years ago, did he not?”

Prince Marius gazed out over the open water with a devilish smirk still plastered on his lips. “Dorne and the Crown has rarely seen eye to eye, it’s true”, he said. “But surely we have the right to our own waters. Do you not agree?” His mouth expressed its words in a stretching and sort of rolling manner, providing them with surprising weight, entrancing me like a siren’s call. “Besides,” he continued, and clicked his teeth together. “That was some years ago, was it not?” he smirked, echoing my words for a playful comeback.

It was impossible not to be charmed by him, with his Dornish drawl and inquiring eyes. It felt like I knew everything about him, yet not a single thing at the same time.

He spoke of his homeland with a passion that ignited a fire in my chest, reciting the histories, legends, and customs of his people, and I came to realize he was from another world entirely. A world painted in vibrant hues, vastly different from the courtly intrigues that choked King’s Landing. A world where bastards were not despised and daughters had as much of a claim as sons.

It was riveting.

A prickle of unease danced on my skin. My gaze flickered to Aemond as if I’d felt him watching me. His eye was burning me. His fingers trailing the hilt of his dagger like strings on a fiddle, playing the tune of its blade across my neck. My hand travelled instinctively to the blooming crimson.

“You’ve been hurt.” Prince Marius’ words snapped me back to attention. I whirled away, the movement a touch too swift, a touch too desperate.

“Dragons can be unpredictable creatures,” I offered tersely, an attempt of a smile on my lips. My mother’s words echoed in my head, a cruel reminder,

Know that you’re a terrible liar.

But it wasn’t a lie. Not entirely.

“That may be,” he drawled. “Though, unlikely to wield a blade.” He watched me with an inquisitive gaze, his perceptiveness sending a tremor through me.

“My sword is yours to command if you reveal the culprit.” Prince Marius drawl dipped a notch lower, duress coating his voice, as if he had not heard my explanation, or simply ignored it as a response of a silly girl.

For the briefest second, I genuinely believed he was a mind reader and I fought so hard not to let my eyes travel back to the source of my injury. Prince Marius’ sudden resolve tickled opposite emotions out of me, and I laughed.

But the prince of Dorne did not jest. He stood there, unmoving, waiting on his command like a sellsword.

My laugh fell short. “That will not be necessary,” I assured him. Though, I had to admit that his sudden determination to root out my enemies without the slightest hesitation brought me satisfaction and comfort.

Perhaps a Martell could be trusted, after all.

I watched his mien soften to my reassurance.

“How long do you plan to remain in King’s Landing?” I asked, attempting to sway the conversation in a different direction.

“Until the tourney, princess,” he replied. He was to join the tournament list? “Though everything after depends.”

“On what?”

His gaze locked with mine for a beat too long as a secretive smile spread across his lips. “On you.” The words dripped from his lips like honeyed wine.

My cheeks flushed and nerves played beneath my skin.

On me?

He bowed deeply and kissed my knuckles valedictory, before disappearing through the press of bodies.

The boldness of Prince Marius, it seemed, had thrown open the gates for every lord of a noble house to present themselves to me. Lannisters, with their gilded smiles and promises of influence. Tyrells, draped in silks, whispering of wealth. Baratheons, booming with hearty laughter and boasts of strength. Tullys, with an air of cautious calculation, and even a Greyjoy, his presence a salty reminder of the unforgiving sea. Taking their turn one after the other. It was overwhelming. Each echoing their house words in the stale air like hollow promises. Each offered a variation on the same theme: a plea for favor at the upcoming tourney, and requests to spare a dance at the wedding feast in two days’ time. The sheer volume of it all threatened to drown me.

“Cregan Stark of Winterfell.” A young lord, no older than myself, bowed deeply before me in black ringmail over layers of black wool and boiled leather, making him appear curiously feral amongst courtiers in delicate fabrics.

His forehead glistened with beads of sweat, and though his face remained stoic, a flicker of discomfort danced in his blue eyes.

“You’re far away from home, Lord Stark,” I said, offering him a gentle smile. “How are you faring in King’s Landing?”

A slow smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Implausibly hot, princess,” he rumbled, his northern accent wafting me like a welcomed breeze.

“On that we agree.”

He was beautiful in a stark kind of way. In the way snow glaze mountains, and the way ice reflect the first rays of dawn.

“Please accept this gift as an apology for the namedays I’ve missed, and as a token of my fealty to you, and to your family.” Ser Cregan’s hulking bannerman lumbered forward, the leather leash creaking in his grip as he unveiled a magnificent white wolfhound. “I’ve heard how much you adore the creatures.”

A gasp escaped my lips before I could contain it, as I observed the majestic beast at my feet.

“May she offer you comfort and protection,” he continued, adding weight to the word, and if it wasn’t for the bliss I was currently basking in, I would’ve grown coy.

I could only imagine the state of myself from his view – a scarred face and a slashed neck.

Must’ve been a sight.

“This is a most generous gift, my Lord,” I managed, my voice thick with a sudden rush of emotion. I dropped to my haunches and allowed the hound to sniff me. Her fur, the color of a winter blizzard, was matted and dusty from travel, a stark contrast to the pristine white of her glacier eyes. Her chest heaved with exertion, a giant pink tongue lolling out of her mouth. She was clearly parched. How long had she been out here?

“See to it she has water and a bath,” I commanded a nearby maidservant, and watched as the girl scurried into the castle with the panting hound.

“I shall be watching your prowess at the tourney on the morrow, my Lord,” I declared with a smile.

Lord Cregan dipped his head. “Thank you, princess, but I am not on the list. I will join merely as a spectator.”

“Very well,” I said. “I shall save you a dance at the feast.”

“I don’t dance, princess,” he rumbled, a hint of apology battling with his natural stoicism. “But if you find yourself in need of… meaningful conversation,” he offered, “I am at your service.” A ghost of a smile lingered on his lips for a moment before he bowed once more, and took his leave with his bannermen in heel, leaving me feeling oddly dissatisfied.

As the throng thinned and the servants descended upon the revelry’s remnants, I found myself beneath the white oak tree. Its bark was white as bone, its leaves dark red, like a thousand bloodstained hands. A face had been carved into its trunk, and its ancient limbs overgrown with smokeberry vines wrestled beneath the soil. Birds sang their melodies from hidden nests and brought a sereness to my overwhelmed mind, but the thumps of a cane against stone made my skin crawl.

“We have missed you, princess. I dare say, none has sparked the court alight quite like you these past years. Not even your mother when she was your age,” Lord Larys Strong drawled.

A tight smile played on my lips, a flimsy shield against the disdain bubbling within me. “You flatter me, my Lord.” The image of feet flashed before my eyes, and I had to do everything in my power not to gag.

“I must offer my condolences on the passing of Ser Harwin,” he said, his voice laced with venom, “You were so very close growing up. Even as a babe you were special to him. The gods are cruel.”

My jaw tightened. “He was your brother, Lord Larys. I believe it is I who should offer my condolences,” I said, avoiding his eyes.

Larys lifted a shoulder and stacked his hands atop the head of his cane, his fingers drumming a silent rhythm. “Grief, princess, is a tapestry woven with many threads. One person’s sorrow does not diminish the anguish of another.”

I met his gaze, a challenge flickering in my eyes. “Is it such grief, after all?” my voice was barely above a whisper, “You took his place as the new Lord of Harrenhal.”

My statement hung heavy in the air.

Larys looked at me as if I’d hit him over the head with my goblet. But I knew he was full of shit.

“Sharp as a winter wind, as always, princess,” he said, almost in a state of admiration, as a grin tugged at his lips.

The nausea I felt rising in my throat had nothing to do with the wine. Rolling my eyes, I gazed up into the crown of the heart tree, its face looking like it wailed in agony.

“They say the children of the forest carved the faces in the weirwoods during the dawn, centuries before the coming of the First Men across the Narrow Sea.”

Trying to dissociate from Lord Larys’ strenuous tale, I caught Aemond’s lingering gaze over my shoulder, and I couldn’t help but notice that he had not touched a scrap of food, nor drunk a drop of wine since our earlier encounter.

A spark of triumph ignited in my chest – I had rattled him.

But whether this unexpected advantage would prove to be a blessing or a curse remained to be seen.

More chapters

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #prince aemond targaryen #aemond x original female character #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x original female character #aemond the kinslayer #hotd aemond #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x ofc #aemond targaryen x original character

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vixenpen · 9 months ago

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Hobie Brown loves black women (duh) but also (head canons)

because daddy is my latest obsession 🤭

Damn, I leave these tumblr streets for a year and yall out here wildin. It’s come to my attention that yall have the unmitigated gall, the glittering nerve to argue with black women about whether or not Hobie Brown likes black girls. Excuse me???? Does the black punk radical revolutionary from the SEVENTIES!!!! (Cuz yall keep forgetting he lives in 1970s London) like black women?!?!?!

Honey not only does he LOOOVE black women. He loves BLACK women. What do I mean when I say that?

Hobie loves soul sistas with sky high Afros, TWAs, shaved heads, close cut fades

The girls that can quote Marcus Garvey, Malcolm X, bell hooks, and WEB Du Bois with equal conviction and knowledge

I’m talking fist to the sky, power to the people, say it loud I’m black and I’m proud, type tease

I’m talking they wearing all black, leather jackets with their black panther pins stuck to the lapel (and if you think I’m talking about the hero you ain’t black enough for this conversation)

I’m talking the black ladies with the barets that call all black men “my brotha” and all black women “my sistah”

The black women that keep that thang on em and ain’t ever gotta get ready

Hobie loves the loc’ed black girls and the turban wearing sisters

The girls who keep Maya Angelou, James Baldwin, or Langston Hughes on deck usually tucked into their woven knapsacks/leather messenger bags

The sage and incense burning girlies who cleanse their space and say a little prayer of protection on your journey

The orisha worshipping black girlies with alters in their windows and tarot cards on their bookshelf

The girlies that can guess your star sign based on your jaw line.

The girls that smell like cocoa butter with paint on their skirts

Hobie likes his fellow black fem punks with their spiked jewelry and shaved heads

The girlies pushing, shoving, and rioting during the mosh pits

The black girlies with the braid/Mohawk combos.

The girls stomping through the club in demonias with their piercings and black leather accessories

The girls with the drawn on angry eyebrows yet the kindest, gentlest smiles

The girls who prowl the record stores and flip off the shop owner that keeps following them.

The black girlies in the band who are front row and center wailing like Betty Davis and dancing like Tina Turner, a mic in hand or a guitar over her shoulder

Hobie loves the disco divas

The girlies in their sparkly bell bottoms killing it in the discos on Saturday nights

The girlies who think disco will never die

The funky divas and dance floor queens

The girls that audition for soul train every season and win.

The girls with the best record collection especially when it comes to party hits and speaking of parties

He loves the girls who are the first on the dance floor and the last to leave. The lives of the party and the queens of the kick backs

Hobie loves his pothead black girls that always have the good gas

His Mary Jane muses who are always a chill vibe and a good time

The black girls who always have snacks and gum on em cuz they’re always hungry and high.

With their red eyes and quick smiles.

He loves the black girls with a little dime bag and something “a little bit stronger if you need it”

And he loves his black girls black mixed with nothing but black. Two black parents, four black grandparents, the darker the berry the sweeter the juice. Yes he loves dark chocolate girls BUT he loves his black girls of all hues

Albino

Butter scotch

Mahogany

Blue-black

Hobie loves BLACK women

Yall please stop forgetting this man lived during the 70s and there is a very particular type of black woman that was around during the 70s

#hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie x black!reader #hobart brown #Hobie brown #across the spiderverse #atsv #headcanons

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cissa-calls · 9 months ago

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Countdown to Agatha: Darkhold Diaries: Day 734

Agatha: “They don’t make things like they used to.”

Wanda: “How so?”

Agatha: “See my shoes?” *lifts skirts to show a pair of worn leather boots* “maintenance, care, and a little bit of magic…and I’ve had these for several centuries.”

Wanda: “Preservation charms?”

Agatha: “Mhm. Now look at Y/N, look at their boots”

Y/N: *wearing a pair of boots that have a hole in the heel*

Agatha: “Clothing like mine, stuff that’s meant to be worn and altered? It is a product of the past. Clothing now is usually made to be consumed cheaply and quickly”

Y/N: “You know what’s also a product of the past? Ornery pretentious witches who are scared of escalators”

Agatha, with fear in her voice and heart: “That’s low, even for you.”

#can you tell I enjoy the effect of capitalism and consumerism on the clothing industry in the context of fashion history?#and agatha does too because it honestly makes sense #wandavision #agatha harkness #house of harkness #agatha all along #hahndavision #house of harkness counter #marvel #wanda maximoff #agatha harkness x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #coven of chaos #coven of chaos counter #incorrect marvel quotes #darkhold diaries #agatha: darkhold diaries #darkhold diaries counter

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xdarkestdesirex · 5 months ago

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Calamity - Hide x f.Reader

Volume One

Calamity (n.) a great misfortune or disaster

You think you're just like every other 18-year-old girl: just starting college, living alone, and working at a cute cafe, except you aren't because you're a ghoul. Trying your best to blend into a world that isn't your own, and then you meet him. Hide. He's unlike anyone you've ever met, and you slowly fall for him. But will it ever work between the two of you? He's human, and you're not.

This is a Hide x female reader, and this fanfiction story will be based STRICTLY on the mangas, including the novels.

The plot of Tokyo Ghoul and the characters are not mine. They all belong to Sui Ishida.

I don't allow anyone to copy my story, publish it on other platforms, or alter it as your own.

This writing contains highly sensitive topics like violence, gore, mental illness, talk of suicide, death, smut, and other mature themes. Reader discretion is advised.

word count 10877

“Humans are thought to be at the top of the food chain… But some beings hunt them as food. These monsters feed on the dead flesh of humans. They are called…

Ghouls.”

-Tokyo Ghoul Volume 1 #001 Tragedy by Sui Ishida

——————————

The sound of the TV lofted through the brightly lit cafe. A news channel was showing an interview with a man named Hisashi Ogura, a ghoul researcher, explaining what ghouls are and how they act. I stood behind the coffee bar, dressed in my work uniform, which consisted of a cream blouse with a gray vest layered on top and a brown tie wrapped neatly under the collar and tucked below the vest. A brown skirt with two pleats in the front that hit my mid-thighs, shear tights covered my legs, and a pair of platform leather loafers adorned my feet. I blocked out the sound of the male voice coming from the screen on the wall and stared at two customers sitting at a table across from me. I noticed the one with dark black hair from his frequent visits to the cafe, but the friend across from him was someone I barely saw. He had short, dirty blonde hair with dark roots and gleamed as a smile crossed his face. The other boy’s cheeks turned dark pink, and I couldn’t help but wonder what the blonde was teasing his friend about when suddenly, the vibrant boy shot out of his seat and yelled out to Touka.

“Hey! Can you take our order?!” His giant smile grew, and he looked down at his friend and gave him a little shove.

“Sorry, (Y/n), can you take this?” The plum-haired girl turned towards me and walked away from the beaming boy. I sweat-dropped at the explicit rejection of my co-worker to deal with these boys and then made eye contact with the blonde. He sent me a small smile and a faint blush crept up on my cheeks. From the few other times he made a brief appearance in the cafe, I couldn’t help but be drawn to his bubbly, adorable appearance. I walked out from behind the counter, gripping my notepad, and sent them the best customer service smile I could muster.

“I apologize for my co-worker,” I bowed, “What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have a cappuccino!” The bright boy turned to his friend, “What about you?”

“Oh, uh, I’m okay, thank you.” The dark-haired boy shyly spoke. He was always the quiet type when he came in.

“One cappuccino coming up!” I said, turning around to walk away, but someone grabbed my hand and stopped me. I looked to see who caught me, and it was the boy I admired from the coffee bar.

“Can I ask a question?” He looked up at me with beautiful olive eyes and a silly smirk.

“Of course,” I replied. My heart was beating quickly in my chest.

“What is that girl’s name?” He pointed over towards Touka. My face dropped, and I felt a strange knot in my throat. I don’t know this guy, but it’s still a hit to your ego when someone you’ve been silently crushing on asks about another girl. “I think she might be the girl my friend has a crush on.” He gestured to the boy next to him. Oh, that makes sense. I guess I worried for nothing.

“Her name is Touka.” I directed the answer to the dark-haired boy, “She’s lovely once you get to know her!” Touka would kill me if she heard me talking about her to a boy.

“O-oh, no, s-sorry!” The poor boy looked like he would burst from embarrassment, “My friend is mistaken! She’s not the girl I have a crush on! Though she is cute.” He trailed off and said the last part quietly, but I could still pick it up. Heh, he thinks she’s cute. I’m so going to tease her about this.

“WHAT?” The blonde looked taken aback, “I swear I was spot on with my guess.” He turned back to you, “Sorry about that!”

“It’s okay,” I said, chuckling. Finally, I broke free from the boys and returned behind the bar.

I grabbed a bag of espresso roast coffee beans and poured a small amount into our espresso grinder. It sputtered to life and poured the coffee grounds into the portafilter. Once it was filled, I pressed the coffee grounds down, compacting them into the portafilter, making sure not to pact them down too much. I placed the portafilter onto the espresso machine, put one of our mugs below it, and started it up. Slowly, the deep brown drops of coffee began to fill the cup, and the smell of brewing beans wafted through my nose. I inhaled the bitter scent and felt my body relax instantly. Coffee is the only thing I can relate to with humans, and the smell of it has always calmed my nerves. While the espresso was pouring into the mug, I grabbed a jug of whole milk from the fridge, poured it into a cup, and then placed it under the steam wand. Once I steamed the milk, I poured it over the espresso, topped it with foam, and drizzled a heart on top with caramel.

I brought the cup over to the blonde boy and sat the cup in front of him. Once he looked down at the mug, his hands shot up to his face, and he cooed, “Awww, you put a heart on it!” Instantly, my face turned a bright red, and I cursed myself for putting a heart. I was too proud of my coffee art to think about the embarrassment I would feel after bringing it over to him. He turned towards me, “What’s your name!”

“Oh, uh, I-I’m (L/n) (Y/n),” I bowed, “Nice to meet you.” I mentally facepalmed myself at being so proper.

“I’m Hideyoshi Nagachika, but you can call me Hide!” He reached out and grabbed my hands. “Do you have a boyfriend?!” WHAT? Did he just ask me that? I think I’m going to faint.

“N-n-n-no,” I stuttered out. I could feel the palms of my hands getting sweaty, and I only hoped he wouldn’t feel it, either. My whole body was on fire, and I could feel the eyes of other customers looking at us. Did he have to be so loud while being this direct?

“Could I possibly-”

“(Y/n)!” Touka called me, interrupting the blonde boy, “What are you doing?”

“A-ah! I have to get back to work!” I pulled my hands away from the blonde, ran over to Touka, and lowered my head in shame for getting distracted while working. Touka may be younger than me, but she can be scary. As I got back to work, I could hear the dark-haired male scold his friend for being obnoxious, and the words that fell out of the vibrant boy’s lips shocked me, “She’s cute.”

Touka stared at me angrily when the door opened, looking like she was also about to scold me. I took this moment to greet the customer and saw Rize walking through the doors. It made me uneasy whenever she came in, but I knew I could do nothing about it. She was a binge eater, and just thinking about the things she does to people makes me sick. But I still greeted her the way I do with every customer.

A few minutes passed, and I was back to standing behind the counter, cleaning up things lying around. I decided it wouldn’t be wise to go back to staring at the dirty blonde boy after our encounter, and I did my best to distract myself. The sound of a chair squeaking made my eyes snap, and I saw the bubbly boy leave his chair. “Good luck, dreamer boy!” He waved to his friend, sporting a bright smile, then turned slightly to look at me and yelled, “See you later, (Y/n)!” And then he walked out the door.

I patted my hot cheeks, trying to calm them down, and Touka stared at me for a second before rolling her eyes. “Seriously?” She leaned closer and whispered, “He’s a human.” Then, she walked away from me. Yes, he’s a human, and I’m a ghoul. There’s no way we could ever be together, but a crush has never hurt anyone.

——————————

These past few days, I couldn’t help but worry about Hide’s dark-haired friend, whose name I found out is Kaneki. Once the blonde boy left the cafe, I saw Kaneki interact with Rize and overheard their plan to go out on a date. It was coming up tomorrow, and I struggled to find a way to warn the poor boy. Just from looking at him, I could tell he was pretty weak, and he wouldn’t stand a chance against Rize. If he were at least a bit strong, maybe he would have the opportunity to defend himself, but even then, he probably would still fail. She’s a strong ghoul, and nothing gets in her way of feeding. There wasn’t anything I could do about it either unless I wanted to expose myself or Anteiku, and I would never do that.

My best course of action would be to follow them. I knew where they were meeting and what time, so I could just lurk in the shadows and ensure Rize didn’t do anything to Kaneki. It was settled then. Tomorrow, I will watch them.

Morning came, and I got ready for my day of spying. I wore a pair of black jeans and a band T-shirt with a pair of black Converse. I threw my (h/c) hair into a bun and tossed a black zip-up hoodie and a pair of sunglasses into my bag. Was I being too obvious? Most likely, but oh well. I didn’t want to stand out; I could blend into the darkness if they hung out at night. Before leaving my room, I grabbed the book on my coffee table and shoved it into my bag. I needed something to hide behind, just in case.

I arrived at the restaurant they were meeting at a bit after the time they stated to make sure I wouldn’t be seen by the two. When I entered, I got the waiter to seat me in a corner behind Rize’s back so she couldn’t see me. As I watched them talk, they seemed to be having a good time, and I could see the faint dusting of blush on the boy’s cheeks occasionally. Rize was a master disguiser when it came to being a ghoul; she knew how to blend in with humans, and it surprised me that she didn’t touch the food on her plate once. I’ve seen her pretend to eat before, so was she avoiding it right now because she didn’t want to spoil her appetite for later? I still wasn’t sure what I would do if she attacked him. I’m too weak to fight against a ghoul of her strength, and I couldn’t risk him knowing about me either. Maybe I could run into them? Tell her we had an important topic to discuss with her right away.

After following them around for the day, everything seemed okay. Maybe she wouldn’t hurt him today, and I can warn Mr. Yoshimura about her plans. It was nighttime, and the only things lighting the streets were a few lamp posts. I threw my hoodie on not too long ago and slowly watched them as they came to a stop. It was time to part ways, but Rize made up some excuse of being scared to get Kaneki to walk her home. Shit. She’s going to kill him. I was about to dart out of my hiding spot when I saw a group of girls walking in my direction. I noticed one of them as Touka and panicked, so I threw myself back into the hiding spot and watched as they slowly walked by. At this point, the couple I was stalking, for lack of better words, had disappeared. Once the high school girls were out of sight, I ran towards the alley I saw Rize and Kaneki walk down. Before I could even enter it, a loud bang rang through the area as steel beams came crashing to the ground. I fell backward and covered my face as the debris flung towards me.

This isn’t good. I quickly picked myself off the ground and ran towards the beams to see if the poor dark-haired boy was trapped in the destruction. It didn’t take long to see him poking out from under a beam, crushing him into the ground, and a puddle of blood surrounding him. Fear coursed through my veins, and I could feel the change in my demeanor. My eyes flashed red, and I suddenly felt a pang of hunger. I clutched my stomach and shook my head. Fuck. I did go past my feeding time with how busy I’ve been lately. I can’t let myself lose control now. Not after how hard I’ve worked towards controlling myself. Once I pulled myself together, I grabbed my phone and dialed the police. I couldn’t just leave him here to die.

——————————

After the incident with Kaneki and Rize, I stayed by to ensure the black-haired boy was still alive. I didn’t move him from his spot, scared that if I did, it would be the difference between him dying or not. When the police and ambulance arrived, I gave them my statement and asked to remain anonymous. I know doing that was risky, and I could’ve exposed myself by staying there. Thankfully, they didn’t prod me too much with questions but told me what hospital Kaneki was being transported to, which brought me to where I am now—standing in front of that hospital and questioning why I was even here. I wanted to check in on the poor boy and ensure he was doing okay, but I didn’t want to see him directly.

I took a deep breath and walked through the hospital doors to the front desk. A lady sat behind the counter and looked up at me impatiently, “How can I help you?” Her voice was monotonous. You would think they’d hire bubbly people to work the front desk at a hospital. This place is already depressing, and people like this lady don’t help the atmosphere.

“I just wanted to check the condition of one of the patients here,” I said.

“What’s their name?” Her hands were ready to type once I spoke.

“Ken Kaneki.” Her fingers started working her magic, but another voice spoke behind me before she could say anything.

“(Y/n)?” It sounded slightly familiar, but not enough for me to know who it was immediately. I turned around to see the bright, blonde-haired boy.

“H-Hide!” I should’ve expected him to come and check in on his friend.

“You’re here to check on Kaneki as well?” Looking at me puzzled, he scratched his head, “I didn’t know you guys were close.”

“Are you also a friend of the boy?” The lady behind the counter interrupted our conversation.

“Yes, I am.” The blonde boy's face settled into a straight line, a more serious look, away from the bright smile he usually wore when I saw him at the cafe.

“Then I’ll tell the both of you so I don’t have to repeat myself. Kaneki is in stable condition and doing well, but he’s asked for no visitors.”

I glanced over at Hide, and his eyebrows scrunched down. He looked disappointed and sad. I’m sure he wanted to see with his own eyes that his friend was okay.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I turned to face the boy beside me, “Can we talk?” He nodded his head.

He followed me out of the hospital, and we walked side by side in silence. I wasn’t sure where to start. I knew I couldn’t tell him that I stalked them cause I knew Rize was a ghoul, but I could at least explain that I just happened to be passing by when the steel beams fell. I’m sure he’s suspicious of me, and I wanted to clear my name.

“I know of a cafe we can go to if you’d like. I’ll pay.” I spoke.

“Is it Anteiku?” He lightly joked.

A small chuckle fell from my lips, and I shook my head, “No, there’s one right down the road that’s pretty good.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

The blonde boy seemed deep in thought as we headed towards the cafe, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty for his somber appearance. If I had stopped their date beforehand or pulled Rize away from Kaneki, then Hide’s friend wouldn’t be in the position he’s in, or if I had been strong enough to fight her. I gripped my fist tightly and cursed myself for being weak. Yes, I called the police, but I could’ve prevented him from ever getting hurt.

We made it to the cafe and were seated at a small table facing the window. I ordered an iced americano (something I could drink) and some avocado toast. I couldn’t eat the toast, but I’m good at pretending to enjoy food. I watch many videos on YouTube of people going out to eat, and I like to stay on top of food trends for people my age. Hide ordered a cappuccino and a piece of cake. Once our food and drinks arrived, I picked up the toast with my hands, bit right into it, swallowed it whole, and pretended to chew. Then, I sipped my coffee to wash away any foul-tasting food I ingested.

“So, why were you at the hospital to see Kaneki?” Hide questioned.

I sat down my food and dabbed my face with a napkin before responding, “I was there at the incident.” I decided to get straight into it.

“Wait, what?!” I guess what I said was the last thing he expected, given how his mouth hung open in shock.

“I don’t live too far from the area where it happened,” Which is the truth since I live at Anteiku and it wasn’t very far from the incident, “I was out for a late night walk cause I was feeling a bit stressed when suddenly these steel beams came crashing to the ground. I wasn’t close enough to be caught up under them, but the whole thing scared me. Then I remembered seeing two people walk towards where they had fallen, and I needed to make sure they were okay. So I started looking around. It wasn’t long before,” I paused for a second to take a deep breath. It wasn’t like I wasn’t used to seeing people in the state Kaneki was in when I found him. I've seen worse, but the negative thoughts from earlier came crashing back. A pair of solid hands lightly gripped mine, and I looked up to see the vibrant boy looking at me worriedly.

“It’s okay (Y/n), you don’t-”

“No, I have to tell you,” I cut the boy off and squeezed his hand in mine, “I saw Kaneki lying there. I recognized him from Anteiku and h-he- there was a lot of blood. I was sure he was dead, but when I checked for a pulse, I felt something faint. So I called the police immediately but didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t see the other person he was with, so I just sat there and stayed with him till help arrived.”

Hide rubbed his hands over his face, “I-I’m so sorry you had to witness what you did,” He looked up at me with tears threatening to spill from his eyes, “But I’m so thankful you were there to be with him and call for help.” His voice broke, “My best friend could be dead right now if it weren’t for you, so thank you.”

Having Hide thank me made all my emotions surface, and tears started rolling down my cheeks. I dropped my head into my hands to cover myself from the gaze of onlookers. Then I felt a pair of arms wrap around me and pull me into a hug. I nuzzled my face into the bright jacket of the dirty blonde boy, and he nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck. We both sat there crying while embracing each other. It felt good to have him be grateful to me, but I still felt guilty and don’t think that’ll ever go away. Hide offered to walk me home when we left the cafe, and I accepted it. We didn’t talk much during the walk, but the silence was comfortable. It was nice to have the company, at least. He tried to crack a few jokes to lighten the mood, and he succeeded with it. I couldn’t help but giggle whenever he said something funny.

Once we arrived at Anteiku, Hide cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy. “I thought I was taking you home.”

“This is home,” I smiled at the boy, “I live in an apartment above the cafe. That’s how I started working here!”

“Oh wow! I didn’t realize people lived up there.”

“There are a few of us who live up there. Thankfully, there are only a few apartments, so I have fewer neighbors.” The blonde boy chuckled at my statement, “I guess this is where we part ways.” I whispered.

“I guess so,” Hide smiled slightly.

“Thank you for walking me back,” I said, walking up the steps to the door.

‘Wait!’ he yelled out. I stopped to face him once again. He rushed up the steps and got close to me. A fit of heat crept up my face from the sudden closeness. “Could I get your number?”

“U-um, sure.” If my face hadn’t been red, it would be red now. I reached into my back pocket, pulled out my phone, and handed it to him. He gave me his, and we swapped numbers.

“Thank you again, (Y/n), for looking after Kaneki.” He said one last time before leaving. I pressed my back against the wall and slid down once he was out of sight. I can’t believe that just happened.

——————————

It had been another steady day at the cafe, and I didn’t have any classes today, so I worked an entire shift from opening till 4 pm. Like always, I stood at the counter, waiting for Touka to return from school so she could swap me out. These past few days have been emotional and tiring, not to mention how I had to come clean and tell Mr. Yoshimura everything that happened with Kaneki and Rize. We spent the past few days reviewing the event in detail and ensuring nothing leads back to Anteiku. I felt terrible for putting our group in danger by exposing myself as a witness to the police and other ghouls by being there when Rize got killed. We had concluded that what happened most likely wasn’t an accident since so many people were after her. Meaning we must be extra careful and lay low for a while.

There have also been rumors floating around that the doctor who performed surgery on Kaneki used Rize’s organs as a transplant to save him. Mr. Yoshimura seemed concerned about this and asked us to watch for him. He feels like it could affect him in a way that we wouldn’t be able to comprehend. So I’ve been lost in thought over everything that’s happened, and my guilt has only grown. Mr. Yoshimura was kind and told me he was proud of me for saving the boy, and even though what I did was a considerable risk, I made the right choice. Even Yomo brought me coffee and an extra meal to spoil and make me feel better.

A small smile spreads on my face after I think of how Yomo cares for me. We’re not family by blood, but he took me under his wing when I was little. I was around 7, and he was only 23. Why did he look after me like I was his own at such a young age? I couldn’t understand, but he’s been like a father to me all these years. Being here at Anteiku has been a blessing; the people here are all my family. Without everyone’s help, there’s no way I would survive in this world. Many ghouls would struggle without the kindness of Anteiku and Mr. Yoshimura.

Suddenly, the door was thrown open, and an angry, disheveled Touka came storming through. Many customers glanced at her; some knew why she looked the way she did, while others looked at her with judging eyes.

“Hey, Koma, can you watch the counter while I check in on Touka?” I asked the male on shift.

“Of course, (Y/n)!” He smiled at me.

I quickly wandered back and headed up the stairs to Touka’s room. Knowing she would tell me to go away, I didn’t even bother knocking, so I just barged straight into her room. She whipped around quickly, looking at me with her signature annoyed look.

“Ugh, how often do I tell you to knock.” She said.

“What happened?” I asked as I sat down in her chair by the desk in her room.

“Why do you think something happened?” She huffed back.

“Because I’ve known you for a while, Touka, and you don’t try to hide it when something pisses you off.”

“Fine, an asshole was trying to push himself onto me on my way here from school, and then another asshole showed up. He was a ghoul as well, so I killed the old fuck trying to grope me, and I offered some of him to the other guy cause he seemed hungry. Then I noticed only one of his eyes was red, and he looked a lot like the guy Rize took on a date. I tried to get him to eat, and he refused. He looked at me with disgust before running away.”

I just sat there in shock over the fact that she told me all that so easily; I didn’t have to pry it out of her, and holy fuck… Kaneki is a ghoul now?!

“Touka, I’m so sorry some slimy bastard was pushing himself on you. I disagree with killing people, but he had it coming.” I paused momentarily, “As for the boy who looked like Rize’s date, you need to tell Mr. Yoshimura about him.”

“Why?” The plum-haired girl became defensive.

“He might need help.”

“He’ll be fine. If I had to figure out my way in this shitty world alone, he can too.” The young girl crossed her arms and glared at me.

“Touka, please just go talk to Mr. Yoshimura,” I begged the girl.

“I make no promises,” she said, walking towards her door and gesturing, “Now please leave so I can get dressed.”

I sighed and left the room, knowing there wasn’t much I could do. I’ll tell Mr. Yoshimura myself if Touka doesn’t talk to him by the night’s end. I returned to the cafe and let Koma know she was okay. Only a few minutes had passed before she made her way behind the counter, and I was finally free to go to my room. Walking down the hallway, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed a number I had yet to message. The phone rang a few times before a deep voice answered on the other end.

“Hey (Y/n)! This is a surprise.” His voice came through the speaker and whispered into my ear. Even talking on the phone made my cheeks heat up slightly.

“Hide, is this a bad time?” Before I asked the real question, I wanted to ensure he wasn’t busy.

“Nope! I just left class and am heading to a meeting for this school festival. We can talk while I walk!”

“I just wanted to check in and see how Kaneki was doing. Have you seen him lately?” I’m unsure if Hide knows he’s out of the hospital yet, so I have to see what he knows about Kaneki.

“Oh, yeah, he got discharged from the hospital a few days ago, and I took him out to eat as a celebration.” His voice didn’t sound as enthusiastic as before.

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear Kaneki is doing okay. How’s he doing… mentally?” I hesitated to say that last word. Dealing with trauma can be rough, but if he’s turned into a ghoul, then he must be going through something even worse.

“He did seem kind of out of it the whole time we were out, and he looked pretty pale. He couldn’t keep down any of the food he ate. I was worried about him, but he said he’s still healing.” So he couldn’t eat the food at the restaurant. I’ll have to tell Mr. Yoshimura this information and what Touka saw.

“It might take a while for him to feel normal again,” if he can even feel like that after what happened to him. “Thank you for updating me, Hide. I appreciate it.”

Once Hide and I got off the phone, I wandered down the hall to Mr. Yoshimura’s office and knocked on the door. I waited for his okay before I entered and sat in front of his large oak desk.

“What can I do for you (Y/n)?” He propped his hands on the desk and gave me his undivided attention.

“It’s about Kaneki. I told Touka to talk to you, but I don’t think it can wait.” He looked at me with deep, squinted eyes. “She saw him not too long ago and noticed one of his eyes was red. He looked hungry but refused the meat that Touka tried to give him.”

“So he’s part ghoul and refusing to eat.” The old man paused before continuing, “We need to contact him before the hunger consumes him.”

I agreed with Mr. Yoshimura, and we sat together and discussed ways to approach the dark-haired boy without scaring him off. We wanted to help him with this new way of life and teach him what it means to be a ghoul—if he’d let us, and maybe he could help us understand humans better. I begrudgingly told him about my encounter with Hide at the hospital and how we swapped numbers. I hoped to keep this secret, fearing Mr. Yoshimura would forbid me from talking to the vibrant boy. He didn’t fully agree with me talking to the human, but he didn’t say I wasn’t allowed to. Which I was silently thankful for.

We devised a plan for me to ask Hide for Kaneki’s number so I could personally check in with the shy boy. I would then message Kaneki, telling him I was the person who called the police during his incident and that I would like to meet up with him. From there, I would ask him to meet me at Anteiku and invite him upstairs, where I would lead him to Mr. Yoshimura’s office. We would then explain that we understand his situation and would like to offer him help. I wasn’t sure if this would work, but trying didn’t hurt. At least we would know that we reached out and tried even if he refused us.

Together, Mr. Yoshimura and I made our way down to the cafe. We wanted to gather everyone and meet about our possible new friend. Since it was the end of the day, the cafe should be locked up, and all the customers are gone. The only people left should be the other workers like Touka and Koma, and soon, Yomo would be returning from his patrol of the area. When we reached the cafe, the only person we could see was Koma mopping the floors. He told us Touka was outside taking out the trash. As we got close to the door, we could hear Touka’s loud and clear voice. She was yelling at someone, and she sounded agitated. The last thing I heard before Mr. Yoshimura opened the door was Touka saying, “You can die for all I care.”

Once the door was flung open, I saw the dark-haired boy kneeling on the ground. He had a green hoodie on with the hood pulled over his head. Tears were streaming down his face, and his left eye was red. He looked terrified, and my heart clenched as I stared at the poor boy. I couldn’t even imagine what he was going through. His world has turned upside down, and I could have prevented it.

“Touka,” Mr. Yoshimura’s voice cut through the tension. Kaneki looked up at the older man, and his eyes fell on me in the background. Without realizing it, I shrunk behind Mr. Yoshimura, trying to hide from the boy’s gaze. “It must have been rough,” The old man shifted his body and opened the door wider to invite Kaneki inside. As he walked past me, I kept my gaze on the floor. I didn’t realize how shameful I would feel for him to find out I was a ghoul. If he knew about my involvement when the beams fell on him from Hide, then I wouldn’t be surprised if he blamed me for what happened to him as well.

Touka argued with Mr. Yoshimura about letting the poor boy into Anteiku, but the older man shut her up by saying ghouls help each other. The plum-haired girl and I followed quietly behind the two men as Mr. Yoshimura led us to the secret refrigerator where we kept human meat for ghouls who couldn’t hunt independently. The grey-haired man grabbed a wrapped pack of fresh meat and handed it to the troubled boy. Kaneki hesitantly grabbed the package and stared at the raw human meat in his hands. His dilemma of what he would do with it was evident in his eyes, and I could relate to his feelings. There was a point in my life where I refused to kill another human so that I could survive. It drove me insane to the point where the hunger devoured me. I no longer knew who I was, and my sense of humanity disappeared.

I went on a binging spree, and the amount of blood I spilled that day was enough to last a lifetime. Yomo found me in hysterics and had to knock me out so I could calm down. When I awoke, I was in Mr. Yoshimura’s office, and he offered to help me. He told me that I would never have to worry about hurting another person. I was initially hesitant when they started to give me my meals, and it took a lot for me to finally give in and eat again. Ever since that moment, I haven’t killed another human.

“Please come back when you need more,” Mr. Yoshimura smiled at the boy. Kaneki thanked us for helping him and left quickly.

“I-I’m going to head to my room,” I said farewell, leaving Touka to glare at the older gentleman in the hallway. She was pissed, I could tell, but I wasn’t in the headspace to stay and explain what happened along with Mr. Yoshimura. He didn’t need me to help anyway. That old man always knew the right things to say.

The sun had finally set for the night, and I was starting to feel agitated in my room. Since Kaneki came by the cafe, I’ve been throwing a pity party for myself, and I needed to stop. I decided some fresh air would do me good and headed out of the cafe for a walk. I was dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, with the hood pulled over my head and a pair of headphones shoved into my ears. Loud music blasted into my eardrums, and the cool night air nipped at my nose. My feet took me down the alleyway near Anteiku, where ghouls usually hunted at night, but I stayed clear of the feeding corners.

Being a ghoul, you knew whose turf was whose, and if you got caught wandering around an area you weren’t allowed in, a fight would break out. I’ve been in this area long enough to know which alleyways I could walk down peacefully and which I should avoid. The area my feet decided to take me was Rize’s old hunting grounds. With her being gone, I knew this area should be desolate. No ghoul lurking in the shadows scared that Rize might rip their heads off for being in her area, and no humans due to the high number of ghoul killings in this section. But my peace was interrupted the further I walked into the maze-like alley.

I stumbled across a ghoul named Nishiki Nishio holding someone against the wall while he ranted about having his territory disturbed. Gah. This prick. I’ve never liked him since we briefly met a few years ago, and if I ran into him, I would do my best to ignore him. I felt terrible for the hopeless ghoul he was threatening, and then I realized the ghoul he was threatening was none other than Kaneki. I stood there frozen, unsure of what to do, like the date situation all over again. But I’d be damned if I just stood around this time and didn’t interfere, so without thinking, I stepped forward.

“This isn’t your turf, Nishiki. It belongs to Rize.” I used the excuse of this area being Rize’s turf in hopes it would scare him, but when he cocked his head to look at me, all he did was laugh.

“Don’t be so silly, (Y/n). Everyone knows Rize is dead.” His manic eyes stared into mine.

“It doesn’t matter if she’s dead. Anteiku oversees the 20th ward, and if you want a hunting ground, you have to go over it with Mr. Yohsimura.” My voice was stern as I glared daggers back at Nishiki. He let go of Kaneki’s neck, causing the boy to fall to the ground and gasp for air. The tall brunette slowly walked my way, eyes glaring red and hands clenched into fists.

“I can’t stand you guys over at Anteiku. That old shithead pisses me off with his human-loving hippie shit.” He stops a few inches from my face, “This used to be my turf before that binge-eating bitch came into town, and now that she’s dead, it BELONGS TO ME.” He spat. I didn’t want him to see that I was affected by anything he was doing, so I tried to summon my inner Touka and held the meanest RBF possible.

“And I can’t stand pricks like you,” Maybe I summoned her too well because the next thing I knew, the tall brunette was lunging at me. I quickly dodged Nishiki’s attack and unleashed my kagune. My kagune was a koukaku type, otherwise known as the sword kagune, and it was released right below my right shoulder blade and warped into a sword-like figure around my arm. It almost looked like the kind of sword you would see in a fantasy video game, and not to fluff my ego, but my kagune is really pretty.

I stared down the angry male and prepared myself for another attack. He might be more robust than me, but I could severely injure him if I time my move right. As he dashed at me, I used my sword to slash a gaping wound from his right cheek down to his right hip. He yelled in pain and collapsed to the ground. Nishiki quickly pulled his body off the ground, cursing under his breath, and sent one last glare before sprinting in the opposite direction.

I let out a deep, shaky breath and fell to my knees. That was scarier than I thought it would be. I’m not the type of ghoul to get into fights or provoke others. Usually, I stick to myself and avoid others at all costs, and if I find myself in a sticky situation, then I’m getting my ass beat.

“W-what even are ghouls?!” Kanekis voice broke through the silence, “You guys kill humans and your own!”

“Kaneki-”

“YOU’RE SICK!” His yell pierced deep within me, and all the shame I felt my whole life was brought to the surface. He’s right; we’re sick creatures. Tears threatened to spill down my face, but I held them back.

“I-I’m so sorry,” Was all I could choke out. I stayed there on the ground and watched the dark-haired boy scream out in agony. His left eye was beating red, and his veins started protruding through his skin. He was suffering. Not just from the agony of being turned into a ghoul but from the ever-consuming hunger eating away at him. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

His head whipped to look straight at me, and his face contorted into disgust, “I could never eat human flesh!”

“Kaneki, I understand what you’re going through, but if you don’t eat-”

“I’ll never allow myself to become a monster like you! I’m a human being!” Tears flooded down his face, and his hands gripped at his hair, “A-and you, (Y/n), better stay away from Hide. I won’t let you ruin his life like Rize did mine!”

Hide? Did he tell Kaneki about me? Of course, he did. They’re best friends. But Kaneki is right; a monster like me should avoid Hide and all humans. Our worlds don’t mix. I pushed myself off the ground and ran away from the dark-haired boy before he could see the waterfall of tears cascading down my face.

——————————

A loud alarm jolted me from slumber. I rubbed my swollen eyes from a long night of tears, and a deep sigh escaped my lips. I wish I didn’t have to go to school today. The most sleep I got, in total, was around 3 hours. The thoughts swarming my head wouldn’t shut up, and at some point in the night, I let out an anguishing scream. This wasn’t a rare occurrence; unfortunately, I’ve had night terrors most of my life and would wake up screaming. Yomo came rushing in to see the stains of salty tears streaking my cheeks, and he quickly wrapped me in his arms and petted my hair. He whispered that everything was okay and that it was all a bad dream, but this time, everything that had happened was real. The long, white-haired male was able to calm me down and lull me to sleep. Now I’m awake again. If I let every night like this keep me from going to school, I would miss most of my classes, so I dragged my body out of bed.

I quickly washed my face, brushed my teeth, and beat some concealer into my skin to hide my lack of sleep. I decided to wear a cropped, long-sleeve top with thick stripes going across and torn fringes dangling from the bottom, along with oversized mom jeans and a pair of Doc Martins. My school bag was just a plain black crossbody tote, and I slung it over my shoulder, giving myself a once-over in the mirror before leaving my room. As I made my way to the cafe, I quickly stopped by the fridge and grabbed a few bottles of our nitro coffee. I will need all the energy I can get for a full day of classes.

I’m studying art at Kamii University, which thankfully means I only have classes for three days a week, and I get to bend my creative mind—sometimes. It was hard for me to focus on anything the teachers talked about or showed us, and I put little work into the lessons during class. By the end of the day, I slowly walked through the campus, made my way to one of the courtyards, and sat on a bench tucked under a tree. I leaned back, letting my eyes flutter close, and listened to all the noises around me. The chatter of people walking by, the chirp of birds in the trees, and cars off in the distance. Every sound flows together, creating a peaceful cadence. For a moment, the muscles in my body relaxed. I could curl up on the bench and take a much-needed nap.

“(Y/n)?” A deep voice calls out to me. Why, cruel world, must you rip me out of this peaceful moment? I open my eyes to see Hide and Kaneki standing before me. The blonde-haired boy flashed me his signature smile, and the dark-haired boy glared at me from behind his friend. “I didn’t know you went to school here!” His cheerful voice rang through my ears.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” I shifted my gaze to the ground and did my best not to seem interested in the conversation. After what Kaneki said last night, it felt wrong to interact with Hide.

“Kaneki, this is (Y/n), the girl who saved your life!” Hide’s statement made both Kaneki and me flinch.

“Hide, we should probably get going,” Kaneki tried to pull the vibrant boy away.

“Huh?” Hide’s olive eyes stared at his friend briefly and then drifted toward me. “(Y/n) would you like to join us?” He gazed softly at me, causing my heart to race. I’ve never had someone look at me with such gentleness like the way he’s doing right now. My heart fluttered and hurt at the same time. I wanted to accept his offer but had to turn him down. At least we haven’t grown too close to where doing this would be more painful.

“Sorry, Hide, but I should head home,” The sadness was evident in my voice. I stood from the bench and re-slung my bag over my shoulder.

“Did something else happen between you that I don’t know about?” The blonde gestured between Kaneki and me.

“What?” I nervously laughed. “I just have a lot of homework.” He looked at me with a questioning gaze, and I could tell he was developing theories.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hide flashed me a somber smile, “Hopefully, I’ll see you later.” The blonde boy started walking away, but Kaneki, still facing me, looked like he was internally fighting himself.

I approached the black-haired boy and whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll stay away from him.”

“(Y/n),” Kaneki’s deep silver eyes trapped me in his presence. They danced across my face, taking in every inch. I felt exposed like he saw all the terrible things I’ve ever done, and I was just waiting for him to spit another crude comment, but people keep surprising me lately.

“She’s coming with us!” Kaneki called out to Hide.

“Hu-What?” My mouth was gaping open and closing like a fish out of water.

Hide turned around to look at me, “Are you sure? You don’t have to join us if you’re busy.”

“No, it’s okay,” I shot Kaneki a thankful glance, “I would love to go with you.”

Hide and I walked alongside one another, and Kaneki trailed slightly behind us. I knew he’d stay back to watch me, so I made sure to be mindful of my actions. I wanted to show Kaneki I wasn’t a nasty ghoul like the few he’d encountered. He doesn’t ever have to worry about me hurting his dear friend.

We walked through the campus, and I must admit this is the first time I’ve been to the dorms. They were just as pretty as the main building, and I fantasized about what it would be like to live in the dorms: making friends, having a roommate, going to parties, and getting to be an ordinary college girl. That would be nice. On our way into one of the dormitories, Hide explained that we were going to an upperclassmen’s room to pick up a DVD from last year’s festival. The blonde boy then told Kaneki and me what setting up for the festival was like. It seemed like a lot of work, but how Hide lit up and talked excitedly made me want to join the committee. Maybe I should look into it anyway? Socializing would do me good, and I would spend more time with Hide.

We made our way in front of a door, and the vibrant boy exclaimed that we had finally arrived and flung the door open, revealing a girl straddling some guy’s lap. Her shirt was unbuttoned, exposing her breasts, and the boy’s lips trailed along her neck. But within the split second of Hide barging in, the poor girl screamed and jumped away from the guy she was sitting on. Quickly, she fixed her shirt and then ran out of the door. I instinctively slapped my hands to cover my eyes from the inappropriate scene in front of me. This is why we knock kids.

“Nagachika,” the two boys blocked my view of the guy in the room, so I couldn’t see who it was, but that voice sounded familiar, making my hair stand on end. “I really don’t like my territory being violated.”

“Nishiki?!” His name came out of my mouth before I could stop it. Great, why him?

“Oh? (Y/n).” He looked at me with his snake-like eyes.

“You guys know each other?” Hide asked.

“Unfortunately,” I glared at the brunette boy. He sat unfazed in his desk chair with a bandaid plastered to his cheek. I couldn’t help but smirk, knowing my attack was deep enough and still healing.

“Oh, well,” the blonde awkwardly scratched his head. “I guess I don’t have to introduce you two.” Hide then pointed towards the black-haired boy, “Kaneki, this is Nishio, Nishio, Kaneki.”

The tall brunette gets up from his chair and fixes his shirt. He takes a few long strides to Kaneki and stops in front of his face, giving Kaneki a chilling smile. “Nice to meet you, Kaneki,” Nishiki’s voice was dark, and I couldn’t help but tremble along with Kaneki. The poor boy looked like he was going to faint. He already didn’t like me because I was a ghoul and didn’t initially like the idea of me around Hide, so he must be freaking out now that another ghoul is in the equation. Especially a violent one like Nishiki.

Hide drew Nishiki’s attention by asking for the DVD for last year’s festival. The brunette started delegating areas for all of us to look at, and I felt like I’d gotten whiplash from the sudden threatening aura he gave to this now-normal college student he’s showing. It was weird to be in a room with Nishiki and not be arguing or having to defend myself. We spent about ten minutes looking for this green case that held the special CD that Hide needed.

“Oh, you know what? I took that disk home,” Nishiki said. Like hell, he took it home. He’s up to something, and I don’t like it. “It’s not too far, so we could head over there and grab it.”

“Hide, do you need it right now? Nishiki can always bring it to you tomorrow.” I looked at the blonde boy with pleading eyes, hoping he would understand what I was trying to say. Don’t go with him. It’s a trap.

“Don’t worry, guys,” Hide flashed us a bright smile, “You don’t have to come along.”

“I-I’m coming along!” Kaneki quickly responded.

“Yeah, I’m not leaving you alone with Nishiki,” I said bluntly. He already knows how I feel about him, so there’s no point in hiding it.

“What’s gotten into you guys?” Hide questions.

“I’ve been cooped up at home, so going out somewhere would be nice.” Kaneki’s reply seems legit since he has been home the past few days since he got out of the hospital, but it’s clear that he doesn’t want his friend to be alone with Nishiki.

“I don’t trust Nishiki,” I flatly said. Maybe Hide will change his mind about going if I’m honest about how terrible Nishiki is, or I could make him believe I’m uncomfortable and would like us all to go somewhere else, which isn’t entirely wrong. I got lucky last night with the hit I landed on him, and I doubt the universe would allow me to be this lucky twice in a row.

“Aww, (Y/n), after all these years, you still don’t trust me,” Nishiki says. He walks towards me and tries to wrap his arm around my shoulder, but I step to the side, brushing him off. That annoyed him, and he glared at me through his hooded eyes. His face will get stuck in a permanent glare if he does it one more time.

Hide slides between the brunette and me, an uncomfortable chuckle escaping his lips, “Well, let’s head out then.”

Nishiki and Hide chatted as we walked along the sidewalk while Kaneki and I sulked in the back. Well, Kaneki was the one sulking as I burned daggers into Nishiki’s back. We encountered a Taiyaki stand on our way, and Nishiki insisted we get some. Hide seemed happy to snack on something, and I begrudgingly accepted the treat. I had drunk all my coffee earlier, so I could not wash the vile taste down after eating the Taiyaki. Kaneki watched Nishiki and me with amazement at how we stomached the food. He must learn to eat and look like he’s enjoying it if he still wants to blend in with his friend.

“Nishio, how much further?” Hide asks the brunette.

“It’s just around the corner here.” The tall male walks up behind the blonde boy. Before I could react, Nishiki slammed his foot into Hide’s back, sending him flying into the wall ahead of us.

“Hide!” Kaneki and I screamed.

Without thinking, I released my kagune, and I rushed towards Nishki. He quickly dodged my attack and then slammed his foot on me. The sheer pressure of him stomping me into the ground broke the concrete beneath me. I could feel the snapping of my ribs, and I groaned in pain as I tried to wriggle my way out. He had me pinned.

“I won’t be going easy on you today (Y/n). We’re not by your precious Anteiku, so I don’t have to worry about those shitheads showing up to help you.” I should’ve known I won yesterday because he didn’t want to deal with Mr. Yoshimura or Yomo. “My strength can match Touka’s or even Yomos if I wanted it to, and right now, I’m just using 80%.” He pushes his foot even further into my body. Then he kicks my side, sending me tumbling across the floor. I really shouldn’t have turned down all those sparing sessions from Yomo. They could have come in handy right now. Even with the blinding pain shooting through my abdomen, I pull myself off the ground and take a fighting stance. I won’t give up until I can’t move anymore.

This time, I wait for Nishiki to come towards me, and when he gets close enough to try and kick me again, I swing my sword down at him and slash his leg. “You bitch!” He yells at me, stumbling backward. Oh good, I landed a blow. It wasn’t the leg his kagune wraps around, but it’ll kill his speed with how much he relies on his legs. It won’t give me an advantage, but It might help me. I could see the blood boiling inside him, and I prepared myself for his next move, knowing Nishiki would be full of anger. But nothing could’ve prepared me for the way he slammed his head against mine, causing the room to spin and taking advantage of my momentary dizziness to kick his kagune straight through my stomach. Blood trickled up my throat, and I choked on the thick fluid, spitting some up onto the brunette boy’s face.

“You’re so fucking weak.” Nishiki slowly retracted his kagune from my body. With a loud thud, my body collapsed to the ground. My vision was fading in and out, and a loud buzzing rang throughout my ears. I tried to pull myself together but couldn’t determine which way was up or down. The pain was so unreal my body almost went numb, but I could feel the warm liquid coat my skin. I could practically make out two blurry figures fighting against one another and hear a faint scream somewhere in the distance. My sense of self was slowly starting to come back. I lifted my head to see Nishiki hovering over Hide. Nishiki’s foot was lifted over the blonde boy’s head, and he slammed it against his face. I still couldn’t distinguish his exact words, but I knew he was taunting Kaneki. He slammed his foot down again.

“N-No,” I tried to croak out, but the only thing that came out of my mouth was more blood. I couldn’t let him hurt Hide. He could kill him without even meaning to. With the bit of strength left in my body, I hurried to fling myself over the vibrant boy, and once my body was over his, a heavy foot collided with my skull. Then everything turned black.

——————————

When I woke back up, I was lying in my bed at Anteiku, and the pain I felt in my abdomen was nearly gone. I dragged my sore body out of bed and hobbled into the hallway. A slight cramp sprang through my stomach, letting me know I hadn’t completely healed yet. My feet dragged against the floor, and I stopped before Mr. Yoshimura’s office. I tapped my knuckles against the wooden door and waited for the older man’s voice to float through, letting me know I could enter. He seemed surprised to see me out of bed and standing before him.

“(Y/n), what are you doing out of bed? You should be resting.” Mr. Yoshimura’s voice was strict but caring.

“H-Hide, what happened to him?” My throat still felt raw, and the words tumbling out didn’t sound quite right.

“Here, I’ll show you.” Mr. Yoshimura held his arm out to me, and I gratefully accepted. He helped me walk down the hall to one of the empty rooms and slid the door open. On the bed lay a boy sleeping, his head wrapped up and tufts of dirty blonde hair sticking out the top. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, and my lips trembled.

“W-what happened?” I choked out.

“Touka was passing by and was able to stop the fight. She immediately called Yomo to explain the situation, and we quickly rushed to help. Then we brought everyone back to Anteiku.”

“So Touka saved us. I guess I’ll have to thank her later,” I paused and stared at the serene boy lying on the bed, “Is it okay if I stay in here?” Mr. Yoshimura nodded and then turned around to leave me alone with Hide. I hobbled closer to the bed and kneeled on the floor beside him. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered to the boy, “I’m so, so, s-sorry.” My body began to convulse as the tears came flooding out. I draped my body over the side of the bed and stayed lying there until I cried myself back to sleep.

I was woken back up by the sound of the door sliding back open. I whipped my head off the bed to see Kaneki standing in the doorway, tears also staining his eyes. A look of relief washed over him as he stared down at his friend, who was still alive.

“Kaneki,” My voice was soft, “I’m so glad you’re okay.” I flashed a small smile at him.

“(Y/n), I-I,” the black-haired male gripped his stomach and then glanced back at Mr. Yoshimura standing behind him. “I don’t feel hungry anymore…” Kanekis’s voice trailed off. “What did you do to me?” He asked the older man.

“There is only one way to eliminate a ghoul’s hunger, and I think you know what that is.” Mr. Yoshimura said matter-of-factly, “If you kept going down the road you were on, you would have killed your friend.” The old man’s usually closed eyes opened widely, and he looked Kaneki straight on, “Accept what you are.”

The poor boy hung his head, and the tears slipped past his eyes and fell to the floor, “I-I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“You don’t have to,” I finally spoke, “Here at Anteiku, we get our food without hurting humans.”

“I-I, I just feel like I don’t belong anywhere,” Kaneki cried out, “I’m not a human anymore, but I’m also not a ghoul.”

“You’re wrong, young man,” Mr. Yoshimura said, resting a hand on Kaneki’s shoulder. “You’re both. You’re the only person who can exist in both worlds. So let us help you. We can teach you about ghouls, and you can teach us about humans.”

——————————

Hide’s POV

I woke up with an intense pounding in my head, and my body was sore. The last thing I remember was walking with Nishiki, Kaneki, and (Y/n), and then something crashed into me, knocking me out cold. There was a split moment where I remember fading back into consciousness, and something, no, someone, was covering my body. It was (Y/n), but it feels like a fever dream. I’m not sure if that was even real. I took in the room around me, and it didn’t seem like a hospital. Where was I? This is just a regular bedroom, but who brought me here? What even happened? I slowly sat up in the bed, my body aching in protest, but stopped mid-movement when I noticed a (h/c) haired girl slumped over the bed I was lying on.

Her cheek rested on her arms, and her back rose with a deep breath. Salty trails stained her face, and my chest tightened at the thought that she lay here crying till she most likely passed out. Gently, I reached out to her soft face and rubbed away the marks her tears left. She leaned into my touch, so I left my hand there, cupping her cheek. (Y/n), I can’t help but feel like you saved me today but hurt yourself in the process of doing it. My finger lightly rubbed against her skin, and I leaned down carefully, kissing her forehead. She’s been through a lot these past few days and deserves rest. Maybe I should get up and lay her in the bed?

Before I could do anything, my ears perked up at the sound of footsteps in the hallway and a set of male voices. One sounded more mature, and the other was a soft voice I knew by heart. Kaneki. He seemed worried, but the other male reassured him. The steps approached my room, and my gut told me I shouldn’t be awake yet. So I quickly laid back down and closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. The door slid open, and a choked sob left the timid boy’s throat. Oh, Kaneki, he’s never been one to deal with hardships well. I could feel (Y/n)’s body jolt off the bed, and her sweet voice broke through the air. She greeted Kaneki and expressed how thankful she was that he was okay. It seems that whatever happened, we were all hurt badly.

The next few moments were challenging to stay still for, but they confirmed many things I already suspected. Kaneki is half-ghoul now, and in fact, everyone in this room is a ghoul except me. Honestly, it didn’t scare me; I was just relieved to know why my friend was acting differently now, and it killed me to hear him sound so broken. So lonely. He would be dumb if he thought I would stop being his friend because he’s different now. It also makes sense why (Y/n) acted weirdly with me. She’s scared to get close to a human, but I’ll slowly show her it’s okay.

The older gentleman had left the room to give Kaneki some space after their emotional conversation, and (Y/n) was about to go when Kaneki called out to her. “Wait, (Y/n),” my friend spoke softly. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for all the harsh things I said to you last night.”

Harsh things he said? Did he say something rude to her? Was that why she didn’t want to join us when I first asked?

“It’s okay; it wasn’t anything I hadn’t heard before,” Her voice made me want to jump out of bed and pull her into my arms.

“It’s not okay, and I’m realizing that now. You sacrificed yourself to keep Hide safe when I could barely fight or keep myself together. You threw your body over him to protect him from Nishio.”

What?! So, I wasn’t hallucinating. She was covering me to keep me safe.

“Thank you for keeping my best friend safe,” Kaneki cried. This brought me back to the cafe where the (h/c) haired girl told me how she saved Kaneki. She truly is something else, isn’t she?

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AN:

Hey everyone I’m just testing out this story here on tumblr! I’ve also uploaded it on Quotev! Let me know what you think!

I do plan on posting this story on Quotev first before anything else, so look for it there!

#tokyo ghoul #hideyoshi nagachika #ken kaneki #touka kirishima #hide x reader #hide #Tokyo ghoul x reader #tokyo ghoul manga #anime #fanfiction #x reader #smut #manga #hide nagachika #ghoul #yomo renji #Uta

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