#and hoping that if they come up with some new ideas or techniques

[lightlycareless]

warnings: none too explicit. fluff. you and naoya have a baby girl named Naomi :) slight mentions of you know what in the end.

Whenever it rained it meant it was time to cozy up, stay within closed doors and indulge in activities that would distract you from the fact that all your plans have been ruined by this unexpected weather, and hope it’ll change soon.

Or at least that’s how adults are kind of expected to handle these situations, what you were planning to do, until a small ray of sunshine shakes the foundations of your beliefs and reminds you that life is much more than your responsibilities.

“Mama… why can’t I go out on the rain?” Naomi silently laments as she looks out the window, yearning to play by the puddles forming near the garden yet stuck in the silent, dull company of your seemingly endless paperwork—and plushies that have long gone to sleep, bored of their shared predicament.

“Because you’re going to get wet and then sick. You wouldn’t want to get sick, right, baby?” You respond, barely looking over the papers before you. Budgeting this year… has been quite the challenge; such things are bound to happen when a new heir comes along, whom also harbors an especially strong technique.

Well, at least the Zen’in heritage will be striving for the next few years, not like you and your daughter whom are currently boring themselves out of their mind.

“…Ok, mama.” She lets out a deep sigh, resting her small head against her arms as she remains fixed on the outside world.

It’s no surprise why she was so upset. She was promised to do all kinds of activities once she got out of school, after all. To fully enjoy her school break by going to all of her favorite places plus new adventures with her parents, whom also made sure to set aside time to make up for all the days they were apart.

But this sudden change of plans was bound to put everyone on a foul mood. And Naomi, your always bubbly girl, was no exception.

Sure, you tried your best to replace such disappointments with things to do around the estate, but none did the cut. How could one compare going to a theme park with… well, this?

And make matters worse, she wants to do something you’re not particularly keen of, which is play under the rain. What if she ends up getting sick? Her holiday would be undoubtedly ruined even further!

Yet, considering all that happened… was it really that bad that she got a bit wet? That she gets to play on the puddles, bask underneath the rain, and enjoy the simple things in life?

If it’s just for a bit, there’s no real reason for her to get sick. More so if you give her a bath soon after and change her into warm clothes—or perhaps take out her rain boots and coat!

…

…

…

Since when did your job value more than your daughter’s happiness?

“Oh, to hell with all!” You gasp, throwing your papers to the side before swiftly grabbing your baby’s hand and guiding her towards the garden.

“What are you doing, mama??”

“We’re going to have fun, dumpling!”

And that’s exactly what you do; dive straight into the rain and towards the puddles as you perhaps should’ve done the moment your daughter suggested said idea. Ignore the concerns of a soaked kimono, the reputation you had to upkeep now as the wife to the heir, a responsible mother that should not incentivize her daughter to misbehave!

Which you would’ve caved into if alone, or with the judging gaze of Junko over your shoulder…

But against Naomi’s bubbly laughter, or heartwarming smile… no force could compete.

“Mama, mama!” Naomi she giggles as she jumps from one puddle to the other, kicking and splashing all the water in her way, with some on your way you soon found out to be done intentionally. “Hehe, I got you!”

“Not so fast, dumpling! I wouldn’t underestimate me yet!” you laugh, retaliating by cupping your hands and throwing the water settled in them; which your daughter quickly evades by using her technique, the same as Naoya’s, a talent she has only abused since discovering it. “Hey, that’s cheating, pumpkin!”

Luckily, you’d have someone on your corner that was more than capable of competing with her who coincidentally was already making his way towards you—talking about excellent timing!

Naoya tries to check in on princesses’ once or twice a day whenever busy, usually during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, which he always refuses to have unchanged unless it was an emergency (but even then).

Because of the proximity of one of these occasions, alongside his dire need to be replenished through his loved ones’ presence, your husband might as well-made use of his own technique to arrive sooner.

He anticipated to be received with unparallel enthusiasm, as it usually occurred, alongside the cute babbles of his adorable Naomi trying to catch him up with all the two have done. Or just about any other domesticity that always warmed his heart…

Expect the sight of his two loves giddily hopping around the garden underneath the rain, carefree of their sickly worries, soaked clothes…

Or that he’d be caught in the crossfire thanks to his baby, who did not hesitate to attack him with the same ministration as you—much to your horror.

“Oh, no, Naomi! Your papa’s clothes—”

But just as you, Naoya was victim to his daughter’s lovability.

“Ah, so that’s how it’s going to be, dumpling? Well, I hope you’re prepared for what’s coming, ‘cause I ain’t holding back!” Naoya smirks before using his technique to quickly catch up to her, taking a hold of her and attacking her with relentless tickles that have him proclaimed as an undisputed victor.

“Stop it, papa!” Naomi cries, hesitant to admit defeat, yet very close to doing so anyways. “Nooo!!”

“Surely you couldn’t expect anything different from me, little princess.” He adds, blowing a raspberry on her cheek; she laughs. “You cannot play with fire and not expect to be burnt.”

“It’s just a game!” She adds, trying to get away from his hold. “You don’t have to ruin it, papa…”

“Ruin it?” Naoya says, doing his best to not appear offended. “I would never do anything to ruin your fun, little princess.”

You laugh; her comment obviously comes from the fact on how easily he seized her and put an end to her mischief—it was just a matter of letting her down and she’d be back to her usual, bubbly self.

“Though I am intrigued to know why the sudden… need to play under the rain?” He wonders. “Were there no other options to your liking?”

“No, they’re all boring!” She responds honestly. “Mama has been working all day and I wanted to play under the rain!”

“We did promise to take her out, honey.” You gently remind, he sighs.

“I understand, sweetie. But this rain will be over soon, ok? And then, we’ll do all we were supposed to.” Naoya smiles, reassuring his distraught daughter. “In fact, I was actually thinking about going out now, get something to eat down in the city; now, doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Better than paperwork, I might say.” You jest, he laughs.

“Can we go now, papa?!” Naomi breathes, excited at the prospect of escape. “I’m hungry and bored!!”

“Only after you take a bath and change into warm clothes, sweetie. But quickly if you don’t want to get sick!”

It’s probably the first time you ever see Naomi willingly run into the bathroom; as any other kid, she normally puts up a fuzz and pulls out just about any kind of excuse to avoid taking a shower—yes, even using her technique! How you managed to catch her back then is something only you, and your staff still have trouble understanding. Though it’s quite endearing to look back to when considering how Naoya must’ve been during his own childhood.

Unfortunately, you’d have another kind of turmoil to undergo this time around.

“But I want to take a bath with mama!” Naomi pouts, harshly pulling at tugging at papa as hard as she could with the hopes of peeling you away from him! But he barely moved an inch, as seen in the proud smirk of a man who’s earned the upper hand against his daughter, again.

“Not this time, pumpkin, you’ve had mama all day to yourself.” He really tries his hardest to not laugh, but ultimately fails to hide his amusement and subsequently makes her pout even more. “Now, don’t give me that look, you know I’m only telling the truth.”

“Naoya…” you murmur; even if amusing, you really don’t like encouraging competition between the two like this!

But you won’t deny that spending some private time with your husband, beyond sharing the same bed, quickly catching ON the things the two did throughout the day, before eventually passing out due to exhaustion, sounded very… inciting.

Highly so.

«Sorry, sweetie. Just this time» you succumb.

“Well, Naomi, dumpling, I need someone to wash my back and only papa can do that.” You begin.

“That’s not true, I can do it too!” she quickly retorts, as stubbornly as her father.

“Ah, um… well— I also like the way he washes my hair.” You continue on, doing your best to conjure up another convincing excuse. Life was easier when she didn’t question her surroundings that much.

“You said you liked how I washed your hair too!” Naomi frowns, you swear you almost see her stomping her feet. “You’re lying to me!”

“Pumpkin…”

Fortunately, Mariya’s quick thinking would prove helpful yet again when she manages to convince your baby to accompany her instead, citing disappointment at the fact that she didn’t want to spend time with her anymore, apparently, she had grown too uncool for her. Unfitting to be Naomi’s friend—the highest of treason for someone whom she completely adores, thanks to her willingness to spoil her when you don’t.

“That’s not true, auntie!! I like you!!” She gasps, now tightly holding onto Mariya.

“It doesn’t seem like it.” She quietly laments. “…I suppose you no longer like my Hello Kitty dumplings either…”

“No! I do!!” Naomi adds, now teary eyed. “I really like your Hello Kitty dumplings!”

“Alright, alright, there’s no need to cry, I was just being dramatic.” Mariya says, quick to wipe her tears away, hug her, and kiss the top of her head. “How about I make all your favorites after you take a shower? Let’s just leave your parents alone, they’re going to talk about boring clan stuff anyways! Like they always do.”

She winks, you blush.

This conflict dies soon after that, allowing the two to dive right back into each other’s presence, unable to keep their hands to themselves much longer.

“Now, where were we?” He purrs, slowly stripping away your soaked kimono and throwing at a forgotten corner.

“Doing something about these wet clothes.” You respond, placing your hands over his chest and doing the same. Naoya pursues your affection by captivating your lips with a kiss, trailing your cheeks, jaw, before moving to your neck and stopping there.

His inaction unsettles you a bit, soon cupping his face to figure out what perturbed his mind.

“Are you ok?” you ask, he sighs.

“Well, I don’t like making our baby upset.” He admits, leaning into your touch.

“She’s not upset, not with you at least. The weather just got her in a bad mood, that’s all.” You explain. “But that’s not all is it, Naoya?”

He smiles.

“You know me very well.” Your husband admits. “…I don’t know, I just can’t get the sight of you playing with our Naomi out of my mind.”

“Oh.” You breathe, caught off guard by his answer. You expected something related to the clan, missions, responsibilities as the heir… not his family. Naoya must’ve greatly worried when seeing the two like that. “We won’t do it again, I know I shouldn’t have, but you know how I can’t—”

“No, it’s not that. Far from it.” Naoya interrupts, your eyes widen.

“Then… what is it?”

“I guess I’m… in disbelief. There’s just… something about it that makes it hard to believe.”

“Believe what?”

“That this is my life now, that I’m a husband to a beautiful wife, and father to an adorable child.”

“Oh, what is there not to believe? You have done more than enough to deserve such things.” You ease as he buries his face into your neck. “I think you just realized how much you enjoy being a father.”

“Even if it means being homesick most of the time?”

“More like all the time.”

“I can only imagine how it’s going to be with more kids running around—I’d never see the end of it.” Naoya says, almost… expectantly. As if this thought has crossed his mind far more times than he’d like to admit.

Than he’d like to burden you with.

“…I need time.”

“I know.” He smiles, pecking your lips. “We have lots of practice to go through anyways. Though we better make it quick if we don’t want our little princess to get too angry at us for making her wait.”

“Quick? But you know what they say, Naoya… fast isn’t always better.” You tease.

Something within Naoya stirs.

“My wife, such a vixen.“ Naoya says, taking your lips in another sweet, yet bold kiss. “Do you have no decorum when it comes to your desires?”

“My beloved husband, you ought to know better than to deny yourself as well.” You say, pulling him closer and kissing him back. “We’re nothing but two sides of the same coin when it comes to that, are we not?”

“Yeah—yeah we are.”

And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

cranky naomi is so adorable, i love her.

[nhaneh]

funny thing is I don't really have any interest in hoarding knowledge or resources for myself in any way, I'm just bad at publishing stuff because I feel like that'd require a bit more stringent quality control than what I might expect of something made largely for my own use.

sometimes I think maybe I should set up something like a google drive or a git or something to just throw my personal- and work-in-progress stuff for people who are interested, but I dunno what limits for space or bandwidth or anything are like.

like I'm sure some people would possibly find the ColorSet unpacker python script useful?? It kinda sucks through and I want to make a better version of it and maybe one that could work as a standalone executable instead? and possibly a packer counterpart to the unpacker?? But also I keep thinking like "would this even be useful to anyone lmao??"

in theory you could probably make some kind of art program plugin that does all of this for you - even the bit with loading actual colorset information into layered colorset pairs, but I mean that's a lot of effort and I still largely use a 20+ year old version of Paint Shop Pro myself so...

[hrrtshape]

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　become the laziest shifter ,

shifting is not a labour camp. you are not laying bricks. you are not a victorian chimney sweep, coughing up soot and hoping the foreman doesn’t notice you pausing for breath. shifting is supposed to be effortless.

　　　　here’s how to become one.

　ʚ stop trying so hard. seriously. shifting is not an algebra equation that needs solving. the more you obsess, the more you reinforce the idea that shifting is difficult, that it requires strain. it doesn’t. it’s like falling asleep. easy, natural, inevitable. you don’t need to ‘do’ shifting. you just allow it.

start ditching the obsession with techniques. they are tools, not commandments. if a method feels like a second job, drop it. some people shift while blinking. others shift mid-sneeze. some wake up shifted. some never have to think about it at all. you’re allowed to be one of those people. shifting doesn’t reward effort, it rewards ease.

people who shift aren’t ‘lucky.’ they just decide they’ve already won. embrace the delusion. belief isn’t something you prove; it’s something you wear like an expensive coat. you don’t need external validation. your reality is dictated by you, not by polls or peer reviews.

stop tensing up in bed like you’re about to undergo surgery. roll over like you’ve just been fed grapes by hand and have never known stress. get comfortable. let go. do you think nero worried about his shifting technique? no. he just made a decree and the world bent to him. you are your own emperor. decree your reality.

shifting doesn’t need to feel like a cosmic event. no need for vibrating, levitating, the heavens parting. sometimes it’s quiet. lose the expectation of ‘fireworks.’  sometimes it’s like slipping into warm water, seamless and smooth. don’t wait for ‘proof’. just shift.

stop acting like reality is a prison cell. you are not ‘trapped’. you are not ‘stuck’. you’re just sitting in one room when you could walk into another. no chains, no locks, just a door.

　　　　　　or how to . . 　　　　　　　　　　　　become the laziest manifestor ,

manifesting is not an unpaid internship. you are not earning it through blood, sweat, and desperate scripting at 3 a.m. manifesting is a birthright. a casual shrug. a ‘wouldn’t it be funny if. oh, look, it happened.’ you are not grinding for your desires.

　　　so let’s talk about getting everything you want.

　⭑ in its core, manifesting is just deciding. it is not a scavenger hunt. it is not an exam. it is not a ‘what if’. it is a ‘this is.’ people who get what they want simply assume it’s already theirs. they don’t waver. they don’t worry. they don’t ‘hope,’ they know.

stop micromanaging the how. do you manually control your heartbeat? do you stress over each individual breath? no? then stop hovering over your manifestations like an anxious project manager. you want it. it’s done. the ‘how’ isn’t your problem. the universe has already sorted the logistics.

start being delusional. your current reality is just a collection of past assumptions. want a new reality? adopt new assumptions. pretend you already have what you want. no, really. stop analysing. just be the version of you who has it. the world will catch up.

if you’re ‘waiting’ for your manifestation, you’re reinforcing that it isn’t here yet. and if you’re reinforcing lack, you’re just extending it. let go of ‘waiting.' live like it’s already yours. because it is.

the universe is not a vending machine you need to shake. detach. you don’t ‘make’ things happen. you request them, step back, and trust they’re coming. you ever seen a billionaire refresh their bank balance anxiously? no. they just know the money is there. treat your manifestations the same way.

you are already doing it. every single thing in your life right now, you manifested it. consciously or not. so you might as well start doing it on purpose.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　┊

stop making shifting and manifesting your part-time job. you are the main character, yes, but not the tragic, struggling one. be the one who gets what they want simply because they decide to. the one who moves through realities with ease, who manifests without breaking a sweat. become the laziest, most effortless version of yourself. because that’s the one who wins without having to lift a finger.

[nymphaura777]

Lemme Make You Shift / Enter the Void

You know what’s really holding most people back from shifting or entering the void? It’s not some big block or missing affirmation. It’s the constant cycle of feeling stuck, pitying yourself, and then doing absolutely nothing to change it. And I get it....life gets overwhelming, things feel unfair, and you start believing the narrative that you’re just not “meant” for this. But take a step back for a second and really ask yourself: What am I doing every day to get closer to what I want? Be honest. Most people aren't actually doing anything. They're scrolling through posts hoping for a magical word or technique to save them. They romanticize the idea of shifting or the void, but when it comes to actually showing up for themselves...mentally, emotionally...they're not really there. Instead, they stay in the loop: I can't do this, Why does it work for others and not me?", "Maybe I’m not chosen." But guess what? You are. You already are. You just keep choosing the same thoughts, the same victimhood, and calling it reality. Oh please stop saying now "b-b-u-t I-I-I can't-t-t do-o-o th-i-i-i-s-s" sir/ma'am you can do everything... do you ever sit and think that you're the only one who can help you and what are you doing currently with your life...it's your decision if you want to change your life or not. Now many will say, "BUTTT SAYYYINGG THATTT ISSSS EASYYY FORRRR YOUUU" so lemme tell you, I was a person with High Anxiety and sometimes it was pretty difficult to control thing, but you're on your own kid! You have to manage it, and if it's still not manageable, pls seek professional help.

This isn’t to shame you...it’s to wake you up. You don’t need a new method. You need a new mindset. A decision. A real one. Decide that this is yours. That you’re done living from the place of it’s not working. That you’re done making excuses and waiting for something outside of you to change. Sit with yourself. Observe your patterns. Are you keeping yourself in the same loop because it's comfortable? Are you afraid of what happens when you do get everything you've been asking for? You don’t have to stay there. You’re not behind. You’re not broken. But you are responsible...for what you feed your mind, for what you expect, for how long you keep yourself in that cycle.

Let’s stop sleeping on ourselves!

[kenwio]

Joker's kid! Reader and their hair adventures

Route: recovered dove

Masterlist | previous part | next part (coming soon)

Author's note: I finally did it! All the requests about Joker's kid and their hair journey are here! Hope I`ve done good enough ;3 This week was valentines Day. I know I'm late for it, bu I hope it went well for you ^-^

Warnings: Grammar (as usual), psychological trauma, triggers

Adjusting to the manor, getting alone with family, building friendship with Chlory, and attending therapy : all of those things improved your mental health greatly. On one of your session your therapist brought up the idea that you should find a healthy way to express yourself, as any kid should try at least, that you can experiment and showing your personality through your appearance, and to find your own style and after soke thought you decided to give it a shot.

You could try to wear colorful clothes, but you liked dark color scheme that you've seen your family (except Dick) preferred to wear and which you also picked up , besides every time you see purple and green clothes you feel uncomfortable. As for the style of clothes, you liked them relaxed comfortable and soft, so your style,.if you could say so, was exactly that, relaxed. The thought of body modifications went straight out of a window, you had enough of experiments on your body and enough experience with syringes your body for now. Makeup was..  to hard, you were still adjusting holding crayons, what to say about brushed. Besides, makeup had so many things and rules, styles that you didn't really catch up with. And so you decided that you should try to dye your hair. You knew you would NEVER dye your hair green! You don't want to have anything connected to the nightmare of your life anymore. But you remember your mom had tips of her hair colored, one of which was pink.

So you did some research on how to dye hair, types of dyes, techniques, and all the things. Although you had some vague memories of how your biological father dyed your hair, you can remember how the process was painful, you remember your mom told you that when she dyed her hair it, didn't hurt. A few times, she was able to dye your hair instead of Joker. She did so without hurt. Maybe this memory also made you more inclined to dye your hair. Maybe this way, you would still have some connection to her. Back to your new perception of hair dye, it wasn't that hard since you caught up on chemical reaction in the root of the process quickly. After reading about different types of hair dyes and different ingredients in them, you found one that was a good choice for you. The problem was how to get them.

Although you already brought up the idea of dyeing your hair to Alfred, you did not introduce your dad to the idea, and you had no idea how Bruce would react. And although Alfred was supportive of your idea (he was happy to know you found a courage to express yoursekf and joked that he would be happy too see something bright and not dangerous at the same time in the manor) you were not sure of Bruce.

You told him about you wanting to try dye your hair on the way to your therapy session. Although he knew you had a decision about it with therapy, he was still surprised to hear it. He gently asked you for your reasoning, and to your surprise on the way back, he took you to buy few hair dyes that was good quality and safe (he did all necessaryr esearch while waiting you) and haircare products which was good quality and suited for dyed hair. After Alfred helped you cut your hair in style you wanted, you began the process of hair coloring. You diligently followed instructions, coloring your strands in the right order, trying not to mess anything up. After you washed excessive dye and dryed your hair, you got your result. Your hair was pink, but not as bright as you thought (you knew about hair bleach, but you decided not to risk it), but you loved it. It was a cute color and a bit peachy.

Chlory, who was first to see you, couldn't contain her amazement repeating cute and loud "I am Chlory" over and over. The second who saw you, was Damian, who heard how loud  Chlory and instantly went to check on you, hoping  that you are okay (thought he would never admit it), and when he entered your room he was startled. He remembers you having your natural color of hair, one which he was used to, so seeing you with new hair color was .... surprising. He had to stare at you for a few seconds until you turned to look at him questionably

- Are you trying to make a statement? - he asked, a sharper than intended

- uh - you hesitated - no? Why?

- your hair ... it's different.. interesting. - he said, staring a few more seconds and walking away, leaving you confused.

Your family learned about your adventure soon enough, and all of them were accepting. While Jason was more surprised (silently praying it wasn't connected to the rebel phase (he had one so bad, and he was concerned for yours would be worse)). Dick was happy to know you started expressing yourself. He showered you with praises, saying how adorable you were, and you really were since you seemed more happy now and helped you do various hairstyles. For him, your cuteness went higher up, and his awe with you went to new levels. He also was happy to discuss with you what hair color you should try next. As for Tim, he was the one who notced that now you opened your obsession, connected to having all color's of hair dyes possible (except green), and he kinda enables it, showing you new tones and limited collections, leading to your bathroom becoming filled with dyes. You seem happy, so he is happy for you.

As your pink hair began to fade, you decided to go with the next color your mom had in her hair - blue. And, at first, it seemed fine. Sure, color turned out to be more turquoise than on the label, but it was fine. What you didn't expect is for color of your hair to wash out so quickly and suddenly. At first, you thought nothing of it. But one evening after the shower, when you saw yourself in the mirror, you saw green in your hair. It suddenly was hard and painful to breathe. Your heart hurt your ribs. The bathroom seemed to get smaller. You couldn't tear your eyes away. You swear you heard him. You couldn't move. You couldn't run or hide.

You skipping dinner made family worried. And they all decided to check on you to find you sobbing hard, breaking down. Jason and Tim were the first ones to get what was wrong and what triggered you... green in your hair. While Bruce and Dick helped you calm down, they exchanged a quick conversation, which led you to the moment: once you calmed  down they acted instantly, knowing you don't need trigger (and they too), so here you were, sitting on the floor of Tim's bathroom with him next to you, and Jason on the edge of the bath . Tim is showing you blue hair dye, which fades to purple while instantly sending Dick to buy it, and Jason prepares your hair for the next coloring. You three spend the entire evening together (as a squad of kids who were danaged by Joker) working on your hair and leading it back to blue, and also talking lots. After that, and other's returning from patrol an emergency movie night was arranged starring yout favorite documentary, and while Bruce fall asleep holding you, few others went soon, leaving you and Damian to have a good and long discussion about film.

Your hair journey went on, featuring all the colors (even black for the connection with bats), different haircuts, hair dyeing done by all family, and more happy memories. You took the roud and you've certainly liked it

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Thank you for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think about my work! Hope you have a good day 💖

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Author's note 2 : it was only my first week back in studying field, but I alredy have so much work, I'm alredy tired, and I managed to get sick... I hope to post every week or every two weeks. Life is chaotic, but i will try my best to deal with it. And here i want to thank you all for your support, it means a lot to me 💖

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♡ Tag list ♡

if i forgot someone or anyone want to be added please let me know

@dearlawdimasimp , @shirp-collector-of-fixations , @socially-embarrassing , @leovergurl , @deathbynarcisstick , @cryptic-arr0w , @lynns-cornerr , @cxcilla ,  @charlotteking23 , @ninihrtss , @lillycore , @pix-stuff , @tfamidoingwithmylife , @linoalwaysknows , @00hellohello00 , @lilithskywalker , @bagofrice , @lenaisaloser , @devilslittlehelper , @camilo-uwu , @l3v1us , @eyeless-kun , @stargazingbutgayer, @wpdarlingpan , @weirdothatreads , @maybea1 @mel-viper-wayne @amber-content @lizzyzzn

[yesihaveaobsession]

A Well- Tailored Affair

Alastor x female! reader

Summary: Being The Radio Demon's one and only personal tailor has it own perks.

A/N- Sorry I have been gone for quite some time!! But I'm back, I had NOOOOOO idea what to write and this thought came to me mid sleep at like 12am So anyways I hope you enjoy!

ALSO this was gonna proofread because I didn't have time and I missed yall so sorry if it sucks 💀

Being a tailor in Hell was no small feat, especially when your main client was none other than the Radio Demon himself, Alastor. When you first took the job, you didn’t expect it to be much of a challenge working with his specific tastes. But over time, you came to know him like the back of your hand.

Today, he was scheduled for a fitting. He had dropped off a newer jacket last week but he said he had business to attend to and he'd come back next week and that was today. As always, the atmosphere of your small shop—which wasn’t far from the hotel—was calm and cozy. You were currently cross-stitching a dress for Rosie for some type of event in Cannibal Town when, suddenly, the bell above the door jingled. There he was. Alastor stepped inside with his signature grin, accompanied by the hum of radio static. The aura he carried was palpable. The moment he entered, you could feel the air shift.

"Ah, my favorite tailor!" he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide before resting his hands on the microphone in front of him. With a slight tilt of his head, he asked, "Have you missed me?"

You chuckled softly, stepping away from your work and already reaching for the measuring tape. "You were here last week, Alastor. Hardly enough time to miss anyone." You smiled. His grin didn’t falter, though you didn’t notice how his crimson eyes lingered on you longer than usual. Truth be told, Alastor liked you. More than he should, and more than he realized. Part of it was the trust he placed in you to handle his precious suits, which were such a vital part of who he was. But it was also because you treated them with such grace. You knew what you were doing and were exceptional at it. Not to mention, you were one of the rare souls in Hell who wasn’t afraid of him. And lastly, you were undeniably pretty—he thought that too.

"Ah, but a week without your company is an eternity, my dear," Alastor replied. You brushed off his words with a smile. He often gave small, sweet compliments about your work and how he missed you, so this wasn’t anything new. Yet today, his words seemed to carry a different meaning.

You rolled your eyes playfully, motioning for him to step onto the fitting platform. In front of him was a large mirror—he loved checking his reflection to ensure he always looked impeccable. "Alright, charmer, let’s see what we’re working with today. Did you tear another sleeve during one of your dramatics?" you teased, looking from the sleeve up into his eyes.

He let out a melodic laugh. "Guilty as charged! I simply cannot help myself. Life—or afterlife, rather—demands a flair for the theatrical!"

As you worked, your hands expertly adjusted the fabric of his jacket. You noticed his gaze drifting to you frequently. At first, you thought he might be scrutinizing your technique, but no—this was different. His grin softened ever so slightly whenever he thought you weren’t looking. Watching your focused expression gave him an odd fluttering sensation, almost like butterflies in his stomach.

"You’re very precise," he remarked, his voice quieter than usual.

"Kind of comes with the job," you replied with a smile, pinning a sleeve in place. "Can’t have the Radio Demon walking around in anything less than perfection, right?"

"Indeed. And you, my dear, are perfection. I must confess, I’ve never trusted anyone else with my suits. You have an extraordinary talent."

You paused, caught off guard by the bold confession—especially coming from him. "Thank you, Alastor. That means a lot," you said, grabbing the needle and thread.

"And," he added, tilting his head as though studying a particularly fascinating piece of art, "it doesn’t hurt that you’re quite easy on the eyes." Was he kidding? He had to be, right? Your cheeks flushed instantly, and you nearly dropped the pin you were holding. "Oh! Uh, thanks."

He noticed your reaction and chuckled, clearly amused. "Did I fluster you? My, my, how delightful!" Alastor grinned, watching you through the mirror. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. "Stop moving," you muttered, focusing on adjusting the flaps on his suit. You finished stitching up the rip on his sleeve with a clean, neat stitch—it was a relatively easy fix.

The silence grew heavy until he broke it. "You’re one of the only few who doesn’t fear me, you know… It’s refreshing."

"Well, I figured if you were going to do something to me, you would’ve done it already," you replied with a smirk, stepping back to admire your work. Alastor’s grin widened. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I find your company far too enjoyable to spoil."

You shook your head, laughing softly. "Alright, smooth talker, you’re good to go. You can come and pick it up in 24 hours." You watched as he stepped down from the platform, adjusted his jacket, the one he came in with and turned to face you. "Splendid! I’ll be counting the seconds until I see your lovely presence again!" He started toward the door but paused, looking back over his shoulder with that ever-present grin. "Oh, and my dear, do save a moment for tea when I return. I’d like to enjoy more of your delightful company." You smiled, shaking your head. "You better not rip your coat on purpose in the next 24 hours!" you shouted after him.

You heard his laugh echo as he left, leaving you standing in the middle of your shop, flustered and smiling despite yourself. Maybe being Alastor’s tailor wasn’t so bad after all.

[transformers-spike]

"Cybertronians reacting to getting kissed", in which kissing is not something cybertronians do as an act of affection, so they're completely new to the human concept of kissing to express romantic love. Talk me one Knock Out who is so versed in wooing but doesn't know two shits about human kissing, and finding himself kissed for the first time. Or Starscream who's gonna freak out. Or Megatron who doesn't even know why you're smashing your intake against his

This is such a good question, anon, I've been rotating it in my head for a while now

Knock Out is well-versed in the drag and frag technique. He’s probably one of the youngest members on the Nemesis, still old as balls by our standards, but some rebellious youngin’ by theirs. He’s all about sliding in with a smooth pickup line and buttering you up until he reaches the “let’s get down to business” level, where he starts flashing his biolights in a “come hither and frag me” display. When it comes to human kissing, he’s… improvising to say the least. He’s seen humans make out in a wide variety of drive-through horror movies (many with questionable acting), and while he doesn’t “get” why we do it, he does his best to lean into the act and find what makes it so pleasurable by our standards. When you do kiss him for the first time, he’s already been hyping himself up for months, and whatever smoothness he tries to apply immediately disintegrates because oh fuck, your lips are so small and he has so much to give. He’s absolutely suffering despite the confident front he’s putting up. After fumbling the bag, he’ll ask you how he did. “Mid,” you’re tempted to say. But the hopefulness behind those smug optics stops you in your tracks. Starscream must have had a very confusing interface life even by Cybertronian standards. But there’s no way he didn’t get frisky back when he was Air Commander of Vos, even if the workload was immense. Although that’s probably the most action he got in his entire life, and even then the closest equivalent to “kissing” by their standards is merging EM fields and hoping for the best, a careful manipulation of wavelengths to fall into perfect sync. We humans do not possess a hyper-developed EM field, which is enraging for Starscream because what do you mean you smash intakes??? Mass-displaced or not, the only fluids he accepts in his intake are energon and transfluid, thank you very much. Kissing is a bad idea, and you’ve learned it the hard way, so good job! Now you have to deal with his drama queen ass acting like you just spit in his mouth. Worst thing is, he is interested in trying it again, but with his stipulations (aka watching him fail to figure out how to kiss you). He doesn’t even fail in a funny way, he’s so bad it’s concerning, you’re half tempted to contact Knock Out and blackmail him into sending you Starscream’s medical file.

Megatron was… surprisingly abstinent back on Cybertron. Yes, he’s been around for a long time. Yes, he used to be a gladiator at some point. And yes, it had its perks, but he was always more of a “sensitive spark” than a typical casanova. He had more important things to focus on at the time (mainly surviving the pits of Kaon and, before that, not offlining in a freak mining accident). Honestly, who knows what he did as a politician, whatever freakiness he had going on while trying to depose the government is none of our business and I am totally not typing this with a fusion cannon to my head.

He’s been through so much; fought countless beasts and fellow gladiators, avoided assassination attempts and blood-thirsty mutinies while leading a millennia-long war. Nothing can surprise him anymore. Yes, you’re a weird little freak for smashing intakes with him, but you need not fear for your safety. He’s… intrigued by your display of affection. You can mumble excuses all you want, but you’ve smashed intakes with him and it can’t be undone. Watch out for those sharp teeth and prepare a tetanus shot just in case. You have to deal with the consequences of your actions whether you like it or not, especially when he’s got a claw under your shirt and another down your pants. Your lips are bleeding and you pray it’s an accident, if he gets a taste for human blood you’re done for.

[empty-movement]

Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection

IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.

Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?

This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know? 

It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print. 

What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:

Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.

Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.

Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive! 

I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these…her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!

We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha

* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM

You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!

I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D

If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!

** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.) 

I would like to say ‘don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)

[animelovelover123]

Could u do dmc readers + Sparda x male reader?????? PLEASE!!!!

I hope you like this! Because I was a bit confused by your request (not sure if you wanted a longer Sparda story or if you mistyped and wanted a bit off all the boys), and I am what I like to call gender blind in stories. The story uses different pronouns than what I use IRL? They have different body parts? They do things my gender can't do? Whatever, I almost never notice and when I do, I just keep reading while changing it in my mind. I have the same "blindness" when it comes to tense. If a story has incorrect or inconsistent tense, it apparently bothers a lot of people, but I legitimately almost never notice it. I understand what is happening in the story, that's all that matters. This is just how my brain works. All this is to say, I hope you like this. ^^;

Devil May Cry Boys Riding You

Pairings: Dante, Reboot Dante, Vergil, Reboot Vergil, Nero, V & Sparda x Male Reader

Trigger Warnings: brief reference to consensual knife play

Dante

Dante has always swung both ways; he just never makes a point to announce it. At most, Lady and Trish will drag him to gay bars, and the regulars there will call him the “gay cowboy”. He flirts with whoever and whenever he wants, when he feels like it, and as of late, you have his attention.

He is slow at first, becoming friends with you and slowly figuring out if you are open to the idea of being together. Once he finds out you are though, within 24 hours, he is straddling your hips.

Despite being a tall, muscular man confident in himself and his masculinity, Dante is a switch that likes to be filled sometimes. There was something comforting about it, being connected with someone, trusting them with your body, it felt nice.

When he finally shimmies his way down onto you, he sighs as if in relief and lets most of his weight sink into you. “How you doing there, beef cake?” He asks in a somewhat teasing tone. “Feeling okay?” This ends up starting a conversation. He needed a bit of time to adjust since he did not sleep around much, and silence just wasn’t an option right now, so he chatted. He makes jokes, talks about life, and odd things that come into his mind. It offered an interesting mix of relaxed conversation, like you were having a pleasant date and getting to know each other, and intense intimacy with occasional jolts of pleasure when Dante shifted over you.

When things did start to ramp up, with one hand on your stomach and the other on one of your thighs so he could easily switch between bouncing and rolling his hips, he kept talking, saying both dirty things and playful things.

And when you were both finished, he flopped down over your chest, your dick still buried inside him, and cuddled up like a big dog.

“Mmmm, mind if I sleep like this? Feels… nice~”

Our big strong boy wants to be close with someone. Please let him cuddle on you, even if he squishes you a bit.

Reboot Dante

Despite being known as a man whore who takes a new woman home every other night, he has messed around with men on occasion. He can suck a dick, knows how to take one.

So when you catch his eye at a club, your manhood doesn’t turn him off. He strides over and starts hitting on you confidently and without shame. He is aggressive in his flirting, like usual, and whether you are used to sleeping with guys or not, he will have you in a taxi heading to his place before the night is up.

When you arrive at his trailer, your cock still hard from the partial hand job you got in the car, Dante pushes you down onto the built in couch. He turns on some music and strips for you, taking his time so you can marvel at him with a smug grin on his face. And with a bit of spit in his palm and a couple strokes of your dick, he was ready to mount you.

Dante usually prefers to be serviced, having people dance for him and suck him off, so he did not have that much experience riding a guy, but what he lacked in technique he made up for in intensity and power.

He holds the back of the couch behind you and slams himself down onto your cock. His lips ravage yours, barely giving you the space to breathe, let alone say anything. The trailer bounces and rocks as he lets loose.

The only chance you got to catch your breath was after you both came. That was only for a couple minutes, though, as soon as he started bouncing his hips again.

“Come on, baby, turn that limp noodle back into a meat sword, I’m not done with you yet.”

When I write Reboot Dante, I purposely try to make the story seem a bit dirtier, more vulgar, because that represents him well. Sometimes though, like the last line, I am like “eww, you weirdo”.

Vergil

Vergil is not one for romance, seeing it as a waste of time that holds him back from gaining power. You, however, are different. You make him feel different.

That doesn’t change the fact that he will assert his power even when in the “submissive” position.

“Do not close your eyes.” Vergil demands when he notices your embarrassment, making you not look as your manhood is enveloped by your lover's tight hole. He grabs your chin and turns your face towards him. “Open them. Witness the gift you are receiving, taking in every sensation no matter how intense it gets.” He squeezes your cheeks just hard enough to cause a bit of pain and make you open your mouth so he could shove his tongue into it, even devil triggering that part to get a bit deeper. When he does pull away, his hot breath washes over you in a pant. “Because it WILL be intense.”

Vergil is in control the whole time. Even when the angle of his downward thrust does make him shudder, jolt, or moan, he won’t be passive.

He grabs your shoulders to force you to sit up. He’ll thread his fingers into your hair to move your head wherever he wants it, whether that be to his lips or his chest.

He moves your hands to his ass and orders you to grope him.

He tells you when and how hard to buck up into him.

And if you have already talked and consented to some intense play, then he will indulge in one of his favourite positions; him riding you while holding the Yamato to your throat.

The desire to have Vergil spit in your mouth was high people. You're welcome to those who don’t like it, and I am sorry for those who crave it.

Reboot Vergil

Vergil has always been a man that carves his own path forward, the masses and oppressors be damned. So when he falls for you, he has no qualms about publicly dating another man, knowing full well that the bigots would throw slurs and hatred at him for it. If anything, he enjoyed proving them wrong and shoving in their faces how their 3rd wife is also having an affair between botox shots they paid for while you're loyal and sexy naturally.

Despite this confidence in public, he was actually kind of shy when you take a more dominant role in intimacy. It is a mix of him not having much sexual experience (he has none but he tells you otherwise because he fears it will make him look pathetic), him being used to being in control, and how you make him feel things he has never felt before and at an intensity he can’t handle with composer (though this one he won’t admit to you, let alone himself).

When you do convince him to try riding you, he needs to face away from you to do it. In this reverse cowboy position, you can’t see his face, how it twisted up in that lewd, shy, embarrassed, but pleasured way. You can’t see how his chest heaved. You won’t be able to see how disheveled you make him.

You can still spot the blush on his face and ears, though. You can hear how heavy his breaths are. And you can see how often he runs his hands through his hair or just grabs it, messing the perfectly sculpted style up.

And if you really want to make him fall apart, and get a grumpy boyfriend for the next week, you can suddenly sit up, touching him and making it so that no matter what, you can see his red face and watery eyes.

Until then though, you get to watch his gauche movements, but you get a clear view of his pale ass and how your cock disappears into him.

Reboot Vergil acts cool, calm, and in control. He likes to dominate, but poor boy does not know how to take it and not be a mess.

Nero

Nero was unsure at first.

Riding you? Really? He knows you are both guys but…

Despite agreeing to date you, Nero was still self-conscious about being submissive. He has always tried to get strong, live up to others in his family, to prove himself to others. This desire for recognition has affected your relationship, making it hard for Nero to be submissive and vulnerable.

Him riding you becomes a middle ground where he can be in some control while still testing this potential side of your blossoming relationship. Unfortunately, he is still self-conscious.

After several adjustments, Nero is able to truly get into the moment. The lights are off, your hands are off him, and he has his headphones on playing his favourite tunes. It wasn’t his usual hard rock and metal tunes, but softer rock and some instrumentals.

This setup lets his mind drift, and his body move instinctually. Music flows through him as his body rolls back and forth, one hand holding his headphones and the other stroking his own cock to the beat of the song.

His eyes stay closed at first, and his expression flickers between focus, discomfort, and pleasure.

Once his confidence is up a bit, he opens his eyes to look down at you, as best he can in the dark, at least. He pulls one side of his headphones back so he can hear you and the noises you’re making.

“You like that? Feels good getting your cock fucked by me, doesn’t it?”

And finally, you’ll know when he is close when he takes off his headphones, leans over to slip them on you, letting your body be filled with music while he puts his hands on the mattress on either side of your head and slams down onto you in earnest.

It's kind of weird, but for some reason, the way I wrote this, with the music calming Nero and then him offering it to you, feels like a drug illusion. Not intentional. I was going off of this hot fanart I saw of Nero (with a pussy) riding someone with headphones on. It is a good piece of art, and if I ever find it again, I will link to it.

V

Even when doing something as primal as lovemaking, V was artistic. He may prefer being a bottom, but he still found that simply stripping down and bouncing over you was rather boring and could be much more exhilarating.

So, whenever you or he are in the mood for a sensual ride, he asks you to sit down. He, like most other times you two do it, goes slow to draw out the pleasure. He sits on your lap, fully clothed, facing away, his legs on either side of yours, and grinds his rear against your lap. Bit by bit, you two will shed your clothes, taking time between each removal to tantalize and stimulate, until finally your manhood slides between his small, tight cheeks with the help of a generous amount of lube.

Actually taking you inside is rather hard for him, his body always tensing up when it feels the intrusion. Just like with your clothes, he takes you in inch by agonizing inch until he is fully seated. He falls back against your chest, his own raising and falling as he drags in breaths. In this stressful moment for him, he would appreciate it if you would hold and care for him to ease his body and heart.

When he finds the strength, he will lean forward again, place both his hands you’re your knees, and undulates his hips. He moves them forward, back, in circles, stimulating not just his insides but every sensitive nerve along your shaft as his warm inner walls massage you. His back, and consequently his tattoos, move and roll in a mesmerizing way in front of you.

He goes slow, lost in a kind of trance, simply focusing on the sensations going through you both, the sounds falling from both your lips, not wanting to go too fast so that it ends too quickly. More often than not, you will have to bring up the intensity by wrapping an arm around him and grasping his own weeping prick. Despite trying so hard to go slow, once you have him in your hand, his body moves on its own, bucking up into you as it chases the high he had been trying to deny himself. He does not last long like this, throwing his head back and opening his mouth to let out a low, blissful moan as he covers your hand and dirties the floor.

Again, he needs a moment to recover, but as soon as he can, he leans forward and lifts himself a bit, leaving you halfway sheathed inside, and holds still. This was his signal for you to take over, to grasp his bonny hips and start thrusting up into him, chasing your own ecstasy.

For the finish, if you can pull it off, he prefers to take you bare back and you pulling out just before the end so he can feel your hot seed pant his back, mixing his black ink with your white seed.

This scene was actually from a short story idea I had that showed the difference between Dante/Nero, Dante/V, and Nero/V fucking. Never came to be, but at least I could use this scene I liked.

Sparda

Sparda is a demon. Even though he has become more human over time, sex still has an instinctual drive behind it. Copulation was for fathering spawn, that is what instincts dictate. However, you changed that, and, like many things in his life, you showed him a better way. A way that may not result in children, at least not without some trickery with his eggs, but was instead actually enjoyable. It was not a rough act done quickly to do what needed to be done. With you, it was beautiful, loving, and euphoric.

He trusts you with his heart and body, so when you bring up the possibility of doing this position, he is more than willing to try.

He acts rather differently depending on the circumstances. When you two are simply together casually, he's kind and sophisticated. When he is taking you, he becomes more aggressive, baring his fangs, growling, and grasping you roughly. When you take him, though, or in this case, as he takes you into his seemingly burning hot warmth, he acts more vulnerable and needy.

Perhaps it was his demonic instincts telling him to be more submissive when taking a cock, but he would take in shacky grasp, ask things like “am I pleasing you?”, and either leaning back to rub his stomach where he could feel you inside him or leaning over so he could place his hands on your chest.

There was one more quirk Sparda had when your cock was thrusting into him, and in this position it became a lot more dangerous. It sometimes made Sparda wonder if he was a hermaphrodite because when you take him, such as now, his hunger for your essence was beyond comprehension. And with you under him, you could not escape his holding you down by dropping his weight on you.

“Please, my love, I need it. I need you to finish inside me, to fill me up with your warmth. Mark me as yours, give me all the love that makes you humans so wonderful. I want it all, it is for me alone, every last drop. And when you are done, I want to do the same to you.”

It was shaping up to be another long night with your demon knight.

Honestly, this is my least favourite, which sucks because this was the one character that was specifically asked for. If you are unsatisfied original requester, let me know, and I can make a better, longer Sparda story with a male reader.

[skyguytoast]

HEADCANONS: HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN X FIRST ROLE ACTRESS! READER

WARNING: none just cuteness WORDS: 1.1k A/N: Hello my loves!!! It’s been a little while since I posted a headcanon, but in a slightly belated celebration of Hayden’s birthday, I put together some soft and sparkly ideas about what it would be like to have him as your coworker on your very first acting job 🎬I hope you enjoy it lots!! 💕 Likes, comments, and reblogs truly make my day and keep me inspired to keep writing 🌈📩 Alsooo~ don’t be shy! My inbox is always open for requests and ideas 💌🧸 I love love love hearing from you 💭 DIVIDERS BY @cafekitsune

When you got the chance to audition for a new Star Wars series focused on Darth Vader training a Sith apprentice while struggling under Palpatine’s control, you didn’t just prepare—you obsessed. The prequels were your favorite, and Anakin had always been your soft spot. So when the opportunity came to not only be part of Star Wars but possibly act with Hayden Christensen, it felt like your entire childhood lining up with your dreams.

The audition day was pure nerves. You sat stiff in the waiting area, trying to remember every calming technique you’d ever read about—breathing exercises, visualizations, even tapping your fingertips to distract yourself. When your name was finally called, your heart was pounding, but you slipped into character and let go. The moment you walked out, you couldn’t recall a single line. But somehow, you knew—you’d given it your all.

A few days later, you got the email for a chemistry read with Hayden. You actually screamed. Loud. Into your pillow. When he walked into the room, tall and calm and giving that quiet smile to everyone, even the PA refilling water bottles, your heart jumped. “I’m Hayden,” he said, stepping toward you, his voice warm. “You must be Y/N, right?” You nodded, cheeks warm, slipping your hand into his. His grip was firm, gentle—steady. You felt your nerves ease instantly.

After landing the role, you dove into training before scripts even arrived. Your first lightsaber sessions were hilariously bad. You smacked your own head. Twice. But you kept showing up, bruises and all. Two months in, Hayden joined you. He watched your movements with kind eyes, then asked, “So, how much of a Sith are you now?” You laughed, slightly out of breath. “I’ve got the bruises, so... halfway there?” He chuckled. “That’s more than most.”

Training with him quickly became your favorite part of the day. He was patient, goofy, and shockingly down-to-earth. He showed you his signature spin move—the fast back-swing from Revenge of the Sith. When he stood behind you, gently guiding your hands with his, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies. You tried it. And failed. Three times. On the third, you tripped over his boot and both of you hit the mat. The silence was broken by his laugh—loud and genuine. He wrapped an arm around you as you sat up, breathless. “You’ll get it,” he grinned. “And we’ll make it look epic.”

You shared the same dressing area for hair and makeup—though his call time was always hours before yours. Vader’s scars took time. You’d come in with a coffee in hand and find him half-asleep in the makeup chair, prosthetics half-done, mumbling, “Mornin’... you brought the good coffee?” You always did.

Your Sith apprentice costume was sleek, practical, with tight black pants, armored vest, and a flowing cape. Meanwhile, Hayden’s Vader suit was brutal—hot, stiff, and heavy. So you made it your mission to help. Juice boxes, water bottles, a mini fan in your tote—you were his unofficial handler. “You’re gonna owe me a coffee sponsorship, deal?” you teased once, holding a straw up to his helmet. “Deal,” he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling behind the mask.

One day, you begged him to let you try on the Vader helmet. “Just for a second, please?” He looked hesitant. “It’s heavier than it looks.” You waved him off and slipped it on—and nearly tipped over. “Oh my god,” you gasped, staggering under the weight. Hayden jumped forward, steadying you with both hands. “Told you,” he said with a grin. “Maybe you should listen to me next time.” You gave him a sheepish thumbs-up from inside the massive helmet.

After every take—every single one—Hayden would find you and say something kind. “You crushed that,” or “Your delivery was perfect.” Even if the scene was only a few seconds. It made you feel seen. Like you belonged. And that mattered.

Filming days were long, especially on location. Every night, you and Hayden would end up in one of your trailers or hotel rooms, sharing takeout and debriefing. Sometimes you’d learn about the place you were filming in—local food, weird trivia. Sometimes you just laughed until your stomach hurt. If there wasn’t an early call, you shared a beer or a glass of wine, always with music in the background and feet propped up.

During a grueling quarry shoot, you finished your scene and curled up on a mattress in the shade. When you woke up, Hayden was crouched nearby, trying (and failing) to quietly eat a bag of chips. His eyes went wide when he saw you stirring, chip halfway in his mouth. You both stared. Then burst out laughing. “Sorry,” he mumbled with cheeks full. “I got hungry.”

On crew buses between sets, it became an unspoken rule: your seat was beside his. He’d open his arms without a word, letting you rest your head against his chest. If he was tired too, he’d rest his cheek on top of your head. Sometimes you woke up still leaning on him, the world outside flying by.

You developed a superpower: falling asleep anywhere. Under tables, on chairs, even leaning against prop crates. One day Hayden found you curled up beneath the main set of Vader’s Fortress. “She’s doing her Sith meditation,” he joked to a crew member. But a few days later, you caught him asleep on the floor next to you, head on your arm, you smiled.

You and Hayden developed a running bit where every time you messed up a take, he’d dramatically whisper, “You’ve failed me for the last time,” in his Vader voice. It always made you laugh too hard to stay embarrassed. The crew started catching on, and even the director played along once with, “Cut. And... Vader disapproves.”

During one of your first big duel scenes, you swung too hard and knocked Hayden’s saber clean out of his hand. The set went dead silent until he looked at you, deadpan. “That was... impressive. Terrifying, but impressive.” From that day on, he jokingly called you “the real Chosen One.”

At night, sometimes you’d set up a little laptop and watch old Star Wars films together. You had questions about the lore, and Hayden loved nerding out with you, explaining little behind-the-scenes stories. “You know that scene on Mustafar? I had to wear red-yellow contact lenses and a wig. That heat was no joke.” You’d grin, eyes wide. “And now you’re back—still surviving lava planets.”

On the final day, you tried to keep it together. Everyone was emotional, but you felt it heavier than most—it had been your first real job, and Hayden had been such a grounding presence. After your last take, he walked over, hugged you tight, and whispered, “You’re a star, Y/N. You made this story better.” Later that night, he handed you a small gift: a silver pendant shaped like a tiny lightsaber. “To remind you where your journey began.”

TAG LIST: @ihearthayden @anakinstwinklebunny @sometimescharlolette @awhhayden @dessxoxsworld @throughparisallthroughrome

[earenwen-leafwhisper]

Rage

Daemon x wife reader

Summary: What happens when Daemon’s wife explodes in front of everyone?

Author’s note: hello everyone, it has been several months since I wrote such a long text in such a short time. I reread the first time to correct as many mistakes as possible.

Part 2 will come soon

Tag : @avalyaaa @dc-marvel-girl96

N/h is noble house

Not that Y/n refused the idea of marriage, what she refused was to be forced to marry a stranger living on another continent. Having to make a two-month trip by boat to meet an unknown prince, if for some it would have been a fairy tale, for y/n it was the opposite.

It is true that she could not say that Daemon was ugly physically, but his behavior towards her, was lower than some commoners.

Daemon had refused to meet her, preferring to go around the taverns of King’s Landing. When Y/n heard the news of her future husband’s place of debauchery, she confronted the freshly crowned Viserys, but refrained from saying the bottom of her thoughts.

"Rumor say, that my future husband is in a place of debauchery."

"Oh don’t worry, my dear. Daemon is a man, and a man with desires and needs." Viserys' voice showed his amusement. Under the outraged gaze of Y/n and the gaze of Otto Hightower.

Yes, Otto Hightower, the hand of the king who may be trying to do his job and who understood very well the stakes of the future marriage of Y/n and Daemon.

If Y/n hoped that once married, things would work out. Reality caught up with her.

Whenever it would be at the wedding day, when Daemon looked at her with disdain, or the non-existent wedding night, during which, it was a returning guard from the city who, out of pity, confessed to her that the prince was in one of the most famous brothels and insulted her copiously with all possible words. Daemon showed only disdain towards y/n, and in all this, y/n was alone.

Alone, facing a husband who did not want her and a beautiful family that seemed more tolerating than accepting her in the royal family. Between Viserys who always made excuses for Daemon or mocked the situation, pregnant Aemma that have tried to reassure y/n even if deep down, she knowed that Daemon would not change. Rhaenys who on rare visit, did not even seem to see her. Y/n felt alone, if only the mocking came only from that side. The visiting nobles liked to make fun of her clothes, which were not the latest fashion in Westeros, but represented her kingdom. Y/n hated all the nobles, except the Starks, whom she had never met.

In all this hatred, the most came from the "pimbêche". Noble lady's who took themselves superior while they were pitiful and contemptuous.

Oh and Otto Hightower, how can we forget? Otto dreamed of seeing the marriage of Daemon and Y/n explode, that Daemon is stuck in the kingdom of Y/n and that he can never come back to Westeros. Y/n could understand Otto’s hatred of Daemon, but she didn’t give Otto a spanking, preferring not to become a pawn in the gloomy game taking place on Westeros. The Daemon case being more than enough to give her headaches.

Despite the adversity, y/n remained smiling in front of others, keeping a good figure, at home it was polite to smile softly, which she spanked at all times, even when she dreamed of throwing Daemon from the ramparts of King’s Landing, when she looked away was not due to her shyness, oh no, this technique allowed her not to cast dark glances at the many courtiers.

She could not say how, she was able to keep so calm during the years that followed. Rejected by the nobles, forced to stay in the castle, not to meet Daemon in the streets of the city. Alone against all.

5 years, it took 5 long years...

This day haved to be a day of celebration for whatever reason Viserys found good.

In the morning, the servants of Y/ n had helped her to prepare, her dress was made of a gold thread woven self, allowed to be both light and show the richness of its origins. Whether it was her accessories or the style of her hair. Everything reminded her of her home, her family, because here. That was all she had left.

---

The atmosphere was heavy, Y/n standing with a glass of wine in her hand, watching the show before her eyes.

Daemon a glass of wine in hand, whispered in the hollow ear of a blushing servant.

Viserys spoking with Lord Corlys, or rather, talked about everything and nothing so, as not to leave Corlys talking of the problems of the kingdom.

Aemma stood beside a very young Rhaenyra, a septa not far from them. Several lords looked at y/n with a mixture of curiosity and contempt. Their wives had gathered in a pack of chatterboxes, barely discreet.

"Did you see her outfit?"

"She must think that Daemon will see her."

"Or a guard..."

"She look like a slut..."

"A wild one..."

"All of them are savages."

That someone insulted her was one thing. Daemon liked to call her "My little wildling" while smiling sneakily and with a mocking voice, but that someone dares to insult her people was the breaking point.

No one could have known which was the quickest, between the glass of wine throwing at Lady Lannister or the scream of Y/n.

"Don’t insult my people, you scoundrel!"

All the people present were silent on the shots, looking in the direction of Y/n, under the shock.

"You think yourself superior to me, my people and even yours when you are just a good snake, only good at to bear children. Children who are not of your husband." Lady Lannister blushed, trying to answer but was prevented. " Oh don’t play the innocent, everyone knows you like to copulate with your husband’s guards."

Y/n pointed finger lady n/h.

"And you. You dare to make fun of my outfits while yours are made fun of by your so-called friends behind your back." One tried to escape. " Don’t move! You think you’re trying to run away?! Oh no, not today. You think yourself so superior when you know nothing about my kingdom, and how dangerous it is for Westeros."

All the nobles were put back in their places, before Y/n moved towards the Targaryen.

"Oh, you think you’re out of reach?" Y/n laughs falsely. "Viserys. King of the trash. You play deaf and blind. Not wanting to listen to the problems of your kingdom. How do you want to reign when you are not even able to put back in place your own brother. I wouldn’t be surprised if your reign ended in war."

Although Daemon did not like someone to attack his brother, he could not be against the facts. When the eyes filled with rage and hatred of y/n landed on him, he was taken with a shiver, his pants begin to seem a little small. So... this was the true nature of his wife.

"And you! Dear husband. You are the worst of all. You are a pig packing in noble fabrics. Unable to consume your own marriage, unable to talk with your own wife! Unable to show an ounce of curiosity! How can you ascend to the throne when you are no better than the most disgusting of the people in this city?!"

And so it was that the beginning, all the worst actions of Daemon were brought to light, indicating that y/n knew everything.

"Today you will behave like the husband who is destined for me." She pointed towards a door leading to the many corridors of the castle. " My chamber. Now."

She did not raise her voice, and under the surprise of all, Daemon began to walk quickly in the direction of command.

[mydeimosmeow]

more chubby mc x caleb cause the ppl loved it last time and i do too.

i think he lovessss to pick you up and twirl you around like a princess whenever he can, sometimes for no reason but especially when you’re feeling insecure. he quickly shuts that down by just picking you up. if you’re worried about being too heavy, he’d feel a little wounded, playfully asking you if you think he’s really that weak and if you think he needs to go to the gym more.

speaking of the gym, caleb’s always been pretty athletic, but i think a huge motivation that helps him maintain a consistent workout routine is impressing you. he knows he’s good looking and in really good shape, but nothing makes his ego inflate more than catching you checking him out. he’s all too familiar with that cute routine of yours where you’ll sneak glances at him after he gets back from the gym or when he gets out of the shower. he’s like the king of ogling, so he knows every technique or move you think is subtle because he uses them against you constantly LMAO. he teases you whenever he catches you staring, and enjoys it a lot whenever you’re bold and feel him up, encouraging you to press your hands against his biceps or chest. or any part of him, really. he just wants you touching him :p

caleb would definitely let you practice makeup on him. as a matter of fact, i think he knows how to do makeup. its canon (i’m pretty sure) that he did your hair growing up, so he’s skilled at doing your hair, and i think he would’ve started learning and practicing makeup techniques to help you do yours at some point, probably around late middle school/early high school. he’s now resigned himself to being your personal model and makeup tester, letting himself get dolled up whenever you’re bored and want to experiment and test out new skincare or makeup.

in my last post i mentioned how he loves to see you all dressed up in cute frilly clothes, but i also think he goes crazy seeing you in casual, comfy clothing, bonus points if you’re wearing his clothes. honestly he goes crazy seeing you in general. it satiates that possessive side of him, knowing you’re comfortable enough around him to not feel obligated to always look “presentable”, and that you willingly choose his shirts or pants despite having your own personal closet at his house. it’s like you’re kids again, accidentally mixing up the laundry and using his t-shirts and shorts as pajamas. he starts getting in the habit of buying himself clothes for the sole purpose of seeing you in them, and before he knows it he has millions of shirts he knows will hang off your shoulders and sweatpants that will hang low on your waist.

kind of in that same vein, he makes sure all of your clothes smell like him to some degree. anything you leave at his place is going to smell like his detergent, and on the clothes you wear most often, he’ll spray some of his cologne on them. he invites you to do the same to his own clothing too, and if anyone notices that he smells like sweet perfume, nobody dares to comment on it.

caleb loves intimacy (sexual or otherwise), obviously. there’s something especially special to him about those quiet moments you two share, free from the baggage and pressure of the outside world. he wants you all to himself, and this is the closest he’ll ever get, so he cherishes each moment with every fiber of his being. he spends hours practically worshipping you, sososo thankful that you’re even giving him the opportunity to do so.

————————————————————————

a/n: idrk how to end this but i hope it was okay LOL praying its not super ooc pls dont stone me if it is. ignore any grammatical or spelling errors its 3 am and i was falling asleep halfway through writing this. i come up with most of these ideas on the spot. my writing process is very simple i fear.

also i write these on my phone on the app bc my laptop is broken so i hope the formatting isnt too weird???? idk how to use tumblr even though i’ve had this account since like 2016.

also would yall be interested in me making more headcanon rambles like these but for the other LIs??? pls lmk and i’ll start thinking of some for the other guys and brushing up on their lore!!!!!!

[cdlum]

I just wanted to say I think your art style is awesome! I was wondering if you had any tutorials on how you draw anatomy in your style (hips and legs especially)? Sorry if there's already one posted and I just didn't see it 🥲. Happy New Year :>

thanks for the kind words. i tend to draw people pretty stylized and then some so a good bit of artistic licence gets used. these tips are just what i use so feel free to take them with a grain of salt. with anatomy in particular you can kind of talk in circles because human/animal bodies are that complex so ill just zone in on the points you specified. here's a little image with a bunch of pointers:

the above image condenses a lot of the points I'd make, but basically the key parts are to start with the bare essentials and build up that complexity. using a line of action is a good way to get a quick, rough start. you draw a line out in the general direction of the pose and do your best to adhere to it to give the pose a sense of flow.

you can also draw smaller, thumbnail versions that throw a lot of caution to the wind but capture the basic energy of what you're going for. even having a tiny little stick figure version of your idea can make for a good guideline of where to take it forward.

when it comes to actual limbs, you wanna consider how they integrate and work together, kind of like how chains do. you can see on some of the parts of pear i've drawn out these wireframes to kind of portray how the mass of her legs works in a three dimensional space. for aspects like the waist/hips, i use that X technique i highlight above a lot, particularly for the lower torso. a lot of the times, even when drawing a character totally naked, imagining them wearing things like skintight underwear can help a lot to guide you in the right direction.

its also a good idea to consider things like gravity and weight to a degree. humans are essentially big meat sacks and gravity is always pulling down on that, but theres all kinds of aspects that effect that, such as character build or clothing. pear technically isn't naked in this, but i've tried to imagine her as such and take that into account.

if you are drawing digitally, don't be afraid to take advantage of the convenience you get with that workflow. you can retry and iterate on things a lot faster that pen and paper, and do things that aren't really feasible at all when it comes to editing and modifying your existing work. things like resizing certain bodyparts, instantly flipping the canvas, or using selection tools to completely adjust the positions of parts of your drawing. to give you an example heres a timelapse with all the little edits i made just to this demo drawing:

you don't have to use these techniques linearly, either. sometimes ill have a really solid idea for a piece in my head, and go back to basics with certain elements if they’re not coming out right or i just want to brush them up a bit more. some of the tutorial-y parts i added in i didn't actually use during the drawing but often do use so they're there just for demonstration. not every drawing i do starts as building blocks or a really basic version, often ill just start with a face and build it out from there.

i always encourage liberally using references (this can include yourself) and trying out stuff like life drawing or looking at things like existing photographs of real people/places/things if you can, the more you use learning material the better you'll draw up a mental inventory in your head that you can rely on more and more. some of these tips are things i've learned from other artists over the years (the chin one especially i remember seeing a tutorial about lol), so this is a lot of knowledge i've amassed from other sources over time myself. there are plenty of times ill use all sorts of reference material and its all in service of arriving at the final destination as smoothly as possible. learn by doing, as they say. hope this helps!

[cloudwisp]

football player!gojo x cheerleader!reader

contents: fluff, suggestive. he's a little bit (a lot) of a playboy but he's absolutely smitten with you. nothing coherent, just vibes. 1.6k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ I’ve been watching early 2000s romcoms and this idea has been stuck in my head ever since. ꒱

⭒ You’re newly recruited on the cheerleading squad, and that alone caught Gojo’s attention when he spots a pretty new girl stretching her arms and legs in the open field at the start of practice. You’ve heard about him, of course. The girls like to share stories about him and the most popular jocks in school along with crushes and boyfriends in the locker room. They say he’s good in bed but never sticks around long enough for something serious. Always seen with a different girl each week and they can only hope and dream to be his one and only someday.

⭒ You have to admit that he’s good looking, so unfairly handsome with quick wits and good humor that will keep you entertained for hours in his company. He always gets the best grades too and comes from a wealthy background that makes you think he must be God’s favorite. Especially when you get a glimpse of his sculpted body when he pulls his shirt over his head one afternoon. It’s a delicious sight and you’re brought back down to earth at the sound of your teammates squealing over him. Just what can’t he do? And what doesn’t he have? You’re sure every guy wants to be him, and every girl wants to be with him.

⭒ Gojo approaches you with the few minutes of spare time before warm up officially takes place, offering you some assistance if you need help with your stretches—it’s good for your flexibility and he highlights the importance of the proper techniques to prevent injury or so he says. You know his game, he must view you as this shiny new toy and that’s why he’s interested but who says you can’t have a little fun too? So you accept his kind offer, and a smirk tugs at his lips as he helps you relieve your sore limbs from practice the day before and running your routine again and again.

⭒ This position seems dangerous, with you lying on your back and one leg extended on the ground while he moves the other toward your chest with your knee straightened. You didn’t expect him to use his body to reach those tight muscles in your hamstrings when he placed your ankle just at his shoulder and he pressed his body forward to stretch you nice and good. You’re insanely flexible as he was able to close the distance between you two with just a few inches apart, and it makes his head spin when he’s close to you like this. The soft moan that leaves your lips makes the blood rush from his brain to somewhere lower and he has to restrain himself from doing something inappropriate. He wants to hear more of you and be the reason for those pretty sounds.

⭒ Of course, this caught the attention of majority of your teammates and some of the football players. It’s an enviable situation you both have found yourselves in, but you truly don’t have any real expectations from him other than that he mostly wants you for your body. Perhaps you could say the same thing about him, in the event that you and Gojo have a fling of sorts—you’d know to keep some emotional distance from him just to save yourself from any real attachment and heartbreak. You’re not so naive to get your hopes up and believe he’ll change his ways just for you, but maybe you do want to make the most out of your highschool experience.

⭒ Though, he does have a certain charm that you’re not exactly immune to and his sweet way with words that you’ve seen so many girls fall for. So when he gets straight to the point that he wants to take you out to dinner this Friday, you suppose you want to mess with him a little. “I’ve got my eyes set on someone else,” you tell him and he follows your line of sight until he sees where you’re looking. He feels his stomach drop as he realizes you’re interested in his best friend. “Geto? You’re interested in Geto?” You glance back at Gojo and leave him with a sweet smile and your thanks for the stretches, and he can’t ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest.

⭒ There are plenty of girls falling at his feet, but only you occupy his mind since he had first laid eyes on you. He experienced rejection maybe once or twice before and was able to move onto the next with no hard feelings, but something about you still intrigues him. Like he genuinely wants to know what goes on in that pretty head of yours, what warms and touches your heart, what makes your soul feel nourished and fulfilled. He wants to be with you, even outside of anything sexual because you are someone special and he can feel it.

⭒ He likes calling you by the nickname Angel, and it does make your heart flutter when it’s paired with that cute grin of his. You always greet him back with that bright smile of yours, and he normally wouldn’t be this fixated on a single person for weeks that slowly stretch into months but you have that kind of effect on him. Maybe you have him wrapped around your finger and he doesn’t even know it yet. But what Gojo knows is that he craves being around you (and getting into your personal space), learning every small detail and habit about you through observation, and keeping an open ear to your off-hand stories about your life or daily events. He looks forward to seeing you every single day more than he cares to admit.

⭒ He never stops his advances, trying to get you to give him a chance and he went to great lengths just for you to look his way. He doesn’t know what finally did it, but you suddenly agree to reserve a Friday night just for him when he chats you up after practice. He almost couldn’t believe his ears at first, his brain short-circuits for a split second when he’d normally be so smug about securing a date with anyone else. But you aren’t just another girl to him, he can tell that much. His expression quickly changes into a wide grin, “I’ll pick you up at seven, take you somewhere nice. How's that sound, angel?”

⭒ He arrives at your place promptly at the appointed time and parks his nice car in the driveway. He steps out with a bouquet of roses, taking a deep breath as he straightens himself before walking to your doorstep to ring the bell—never once in his life has he felt jitters like this. Except maybe before a big game, but still you manage to make the palms of his hand sweat in his anticipation for you to answer the door. And when you do, you knock the air right out of his lungs with your hair and makeup and dress that hugs your curves in all the right places. “Wow, you look… beautiful.” He says, holding up the flowers to you with a lovesick smile. When you tell him that he looks handsome too with the use of his surname—he sweetly requests that you call him Satoru.

⭒ Gojo’s inexperienced when it comes to relationships, and he warns you about that and understands that it won’t be easy to win your trust and heart given his reputation. But he promises that you’re the only girl that has made him feel this way, and he’s trying to make this work because he’s serious about you and wants something real as long as you’ll have him. You want to believe him yet a small part of you doubts his words. You’re still going to give him a chance to prove that small voice in your head wrong, but you won’t be so quick to fall for him. Because even if it doesn’t work out between you two, at least you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

⭒ He can’t promise that he’ll be perfect or that he won’t mess up. And that much is true when he takes you to a regular date spot that he had brought a couple of girlfriends to previously. That explains why he recommends the lobster pasta to you which led you to ask if he’s been here with someone before. He notices your disappointment and how you shrug it off by saying you’re just grateful he’s taking you out on a date. His hand rests over yours on the table and he apologizes for hurting your feelings. He did want to make you feel special and important, not like just another girl he’s taking to this restaurant. He feels like a complete idiot for not realizing his mistake, and it won’t happen again in the future.

⭒ Gojo can clearly see now that he has so much to learn if he wants to make you happy. And he can almost feel like you're having second thoughts about him—but he does care about you, and more than anything he wants you to believe that he does. He’s not looking for a quick fix, and he hates how he made you feel like you’re a temporary distraction to him. But he supposes that old habits die hard. When he walks you to your doorstep, he promises you again and crosses his heart that he’s in it for the long haul and he’ll show you how much you mean to him and make you forget all about those doubts and fears.

꒰ note ᰔ some more thoughts is that he gets irrationally jealous when you tell him you’ve already had your first kiss and he follows your rule to keep his hands to himself until the fourth date. thank you for reading if you reached the end -blows you a kiss- ꒱

[starlightandsouls]

Yours To Have, Yours to Break

Summary: What if instead of Nesta, Cassian found out about Azriel and his secret lover. What will happen when the hearty general, in his anger of being left out, causes his brother's happiness to fall apart? How will he atone for his mistake?

A/N: Of course I had to make my comeback with the angstiest angst to ever angst. And that too by turning my fluffiest fic into pure pain. I guess you can say that this this is a spin off of Yours to Keep and Cherish. Also... I know I dropped off the face of the earth but life happens guys. I'm sorta back and here's a fic to make up for it.

Disclaimer: If you're an Elain fan, I would recommend you not read this. I would hate to ruin your day. I do not hate Elain. This is just an idea I got from all the soap dramas I've been seeing recently. Don't kill me please.

Also this shit and not edited. But I was so desperate to post something that I honestly don't care. Hope y'all like it. And yes there will be a part 2

Cassian POV:

As the General of the Night Court’s armies, Cassian had many duties: training soldiers, commandeering battalions at the borders, coming up with war strategies, buying romance novels for his mate and her friends. He wasn’t sure when the last one made its way on his list of responsibilities, or who put it there, but there it was. And who was Cassian to deny his mate?

So that’s how the Lord of Bloodshed found himself standing aimlessly in the middle of the Rainbow, scratching his head, with a list in his hand. Nesta had sent him off to find the newest edition of a Sellyn Drake novel but he hadn’t the slightest idea where to find it. His mate had instructed him to visit a particular bookshop named “The Quill”, being sure that they would have the newest book. Unfortunately, because luck had named him its nemesis at birth, the bookshop was closed for the day. He had asked around and apparently the owner had just left an hour prior to his arrival. Of course, they had.

That is why he had been wandering around the Rainbow, walking into one bookshop after the other, but somehow not one of them had the book Nes wanted. What are the odds of that? How is it possible that only one bookshop in the entire city had this specific book? And why did it have to be closed today? Cassian knew returning empty handed would not only incur the wrath of his beloved mate, but also her Valkyrie sisters. And given the fact that he himself had been teaching them some new disarming techniques, he had no desire to become their training dummy.

While he did not intend on stopping his hunt, he was quite parched. As the summer season approached, afternoons in Velaris became increasingly sweltering. A chilled glass of wine would do just the trick to cool him down, and also relax his nerves. Just as he was deciding on which bar to stop at, he remembered a conversation he had had with Mor the other day. She had told him about a café she had discovered that served the best margaritas during lunch time. Honestly, she hadn’t stopped raving about it for almost a week. What the hell. He was already out in town, might as well try a new place. If it turned out to be good, he could bring Nesta to placate her in case he couldn’t find her book.

Mind made up, he took off to the air, the subtle breeze as he did so, instantly making him feel better. Gliding through the clouds, the twists and turns with wind, were always a guaranteed way of cooling down.

Said café was perched on a hill overlooking the Sidra. He took in the view and the lush gardens outside the café as he landed, and started to walk in. The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior; the décor a blend of elegance and coziness. Oh yeah, he was definitely bringing Nesta here for a date.

He had just given his order to a waitress who looked way too giddy writing it down. Thank the Mother Nesta wasn’t here. Or someone might as well have lost a hand.

Although this is one of the reasons why he didn’t like coming to restaurants and bars alone. Not having company meant he didn’t have anyone to share his stories and jokes with. So, as he waited for his order to arrive, he sat back and took in the people around him; a habit that looked casual enough but was one instilled in him during his years training in the Illyrian camps.

He had been admiring the view from the balcony in the corner when his order arrived. Smiling a thank you, he took a sip from his margarita and damn was it good as Mor had said. He made a silent note to himself to thank her for the recommendation. He was in the middle of another deliciously cold sip, when something caught his eye in the corner of the room, causing him to choke.

What. The. Fuck.

Cassian was sure he looked like a blubbering fish with how his jaw dropped open and his eyes bulged out their sockets. He had to be dreaming or hallucinating from the heat. Yes, that must have been it, the heat had surely gotten to his head. For Cassian could think of no other explanation for the sight in front of him.

His brother, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court, torture extraordinaire, was sitting hand in hand with a beautiful young woman, smiling like a love-sick fool and… eating macarons? Since when did Azriel like deserts? Or the more pressing question: who the hell was he sitting with? Cassian knew his brother liked to keep his lovers secret, but deep down his gut told him this was no mere fling, or one-night stand. For starters, Azriel was smiling like a puppy drunk on love, while bringing the lady’s hand up to his lips to kiss. Cauldron. Just as Cassian had somewhat stopped gawking like a fish out of water, he saw the lady lean over and whisper something across the table, causing Azriel to throw his head back and let out a hearty laugh.

Although he couldn’t explain why, but at that moment Cassian felt a sharp hurt go through him. He could not remember the last time Azriel had laughed like that with them. Damn it, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had seen Azriel smile nearly as much as was doing now at any family function.

Before he could even begin to process what had unfolded before him, he saw Azriel pay the bill for their food and the couple walked out hand in hand. Immediately Cassian was on his feet, ready to follow them. If someone had asked him why he did what he did at a later moment, he would not have been able to explain himself. At that moment, Cassian was driven only by curiosity and a minor note of hurt too-why had his brother hid this from them?

Rushing out after paying the bill, Cassian saw the happy couple walk down the cobblestone path, once again arm in arm, with the woman leaning against Azriel. Another thing that shocked Cassian: how the hell had Azriel not noticed him by now? Those pesky little shadows normally informed his brother of every detail of his surroundings; Azriel’s own heightened senses and observational skills were what made him the Spymaster of this court. So, for him to not notice Cassian so obviously trailing behind them at a distance, was a testament to how captivated his brother was by the woman on his arm.

At one-point Cassian thought that his brother would winnow with his partner and he would lose them, but the couple continued their stroll without a care in the world. He continued to trail behind them while also maintaining somewhat of a distance. Azriel may not be as hyper vigilant as always, but he wasn’t blind by any means- and Cassian was no small man either.

“Breakfast was delightful, darling. We should plan another afternoon here, what do you think?” he heard the woman comment.

“Of course, but I am oh so very tired. I think I need a few days alone at home with my nightingale to recharge,” Azriel replied with a smirk.

Cassian balked on the inside: okay Mr. I Don’t Need To Resort To Poetry.

“We could always have breakfast here again on Saturday. It is our two-year anniversary, and I intend on spending the day however my nightingale wishes. I think the café can be a brilliant start to our day,” Azriel offered, laughing as the woman swatted his arm at the previous comment.

Reaching the end of the path, Azriel grabbed the woman in his arms and winnowed away, leaving behind a thoroughly perplexed Cassian.

……………………………………………………………………………........

Cassian was convinced he must have stood there for another half an hour before coming to his senses. He then took off to the House of Wind, ready to face his mate and the Valkyries’ collective wrath. And his assumption had been right; the three women had blown up when they saw him return empty handed and had proceeded to go on twenty-minute-long rant. For the life of him, Cassian could not have repeated a single word they had said. Because he had not listened to a single word, at least not while paying attention. As their rage had quelled, Cassian had simple gotten up and walked to his room, ignoring the questioning looks from his mate.

While Nesta was still in the library with the girls, Cassian had retreated to bed. And that is where he was now: sitting in bed, staring at a wall, completely at a loss for words. He could not even begin to process what he had seen, let alone understand what he was feeling. For some reason he could not get over how openly Azriel had laughed with that woman, how alight his eyes had seemed. It was as if the Shadowsinger was glowing with happiness, as paradoxical as that sounds.

And it’s not like Cassian wasn’t happy for his brother-quite the contrary. He was just hurt that Azriel had chosen to hide something like this from him for two years. Two years. The words clanged around his head like the sharp tolling of a bell. Azriel had this from them for two goddamn years. And he had a sinking feeling that if he had not discovered the two of them today, he would not have found out for quite some more time.

But why? Keeping casual flings a secret was no big deal. They all had had ventures they didn’t tell anyone, he was sure of it. But if the couple were celebrating their two-year anniversary, then it must be serious. Cassian could tell his brother was committed just by how he had been looking at the woman. And if Azriel truly was serious about this woman, why would he hide it from them? His family?

That is the part that pierced his heart. Up until this day, Cassian had thought the two of them to be rather close. Sure, Rhys and Az clashed from time to time because of their own attitudes, but he liked to think that Azriel and him had always been close. Azriel was his best friend for Cauldron sake. Whenever he had had issues with Nesta at the beginning of their relationship-and he had plenty- Azriel had been his confidante, the one he went to for advice. His brother had been there for him at the highs and lows of his journey with Nesta.

So why hadn’t he let Cassian do that for him? Why had his brother chosen secrecy when he could have confided in Cassian? It’s not like he wouldn’t have supported them. He knew his brother was secretive and shy, but it was one thing to hide things about his work and another to choose to hide such a major part of his life from his brothers.

They were brothers, they were supposed to support each other, to stand by one another, not keep secrets and tell lies. All of a sudden Cassian saw the past two years in a different light. He recalled all the times Azriel had shown up to breakfast with an unusually cheery mood, all the times he had been rushing to leave family dinner, all the times he had skipped their get togethers with the strangest excuses. How long had this been going on? And for how long had they been so painfully oblivious?

Did Azriel not trust them? No, that can’t be it. Did Azriel think he could not open up to them? Each explanation he came up with seemed less plausible than the last. As he continued to spiral, Cassian began to question whether the two were as close as he thought them to be.

Why. Why. Why.

“You know if you stare at the wall any longer, you’re going to burn a hole into it.”

Nesta. He hadn’t even noticed when she had come into the room, and judging by her amused look, Cassian assumed she had been there for some time. Pushing off the wall she had been leaning against, Nesta walked over and sat by him on their bed.

“I’ve been calling your name for the past five minutes, where’s your mind at?” Nesta asked while pushing some stray strands of hair behind his ear.

Shit. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just tell Nesta something he himself wasn’t supposed to know. If he hadn’t walked into that café by chance, Cassian would have been none the wiser about this whole situation. For whatever reason Azriel was keeping his relationship secret, he didn’t think it his place to reveal it.

“It’s nothing, Nes. Just thinking about Wind Haven. I’m supposed to head up there next week and I already know Devlon’s going to be a pain in the ass,” Cassian tried to divert.

“Since when have you started getting so worked up over Devlon? He’s going to whine and throw a fit, but ultimately he is going to have to do what you say. You’re worried about something else. What is it?” his ingenious mate inquired. How her intuition was so good he’d never know, honestly sometimes he thought of handing over the mantle of General to her, with how good she was.

“C’mon. You know you can tell me whatever is bothering you,” Nesta pushed while grabbing his hand in her own and damn did he melt at that.

“Alright. If I tell you, you cannot tell anyone else.”

Nesta sat up straighter at that, ears perked with curiosity, eyes wide open and eager.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Nesta answered while nodding.

“I’m serious about this Nes. You can’t tell anyone, not even Emerie or Gwyn. No one,” Cassian reiterated, trying to get his mate to understand how serious it was.

“Alright, alright. I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

Cassian sighed before revealing what was very much not his secret to reveal,

“Azriel has a girlfriend.”

“Wait-what?”

“Az has a girlfriend,” Cassian repeated.

“No, I heard you the first time. But…how…when??? Why hasn’t he told anyone?”

“I have no idea, Nes,” Cassian replied while falling back against the headboard. He once again took to staring at the wall; confusion and hurt running rampant through him again, echoing the same question again and again.

Why had Azriel kept this a secret from them? From him?

“When did he tell you?” his mate inquired.

“He didn’t,” Cassian chuckled, “I stopped at that new café by the Sidra to get some drinks to cool down while I was out for your books. I saw them together there.”

A beat of silence passed between them before Nesta barged on with her questions,

“You seem…upset about all this?”

“I am. Not at the fact that he has a girlfriend, Cauldron no. It’s about time the idiot found someone. It’s just…why didn’t he tell us? Why keep it a secret?”

“Maybe…it’s new? You know Az. Maybe he just wants some time to figure things out himself before he tells you all,” Nesta reasoned.

Cassian let out a bitter laugh before spitting out,

“It is very much not new. The two were planning their two year anniversary at the same restaurant this weekend. Two goddamn years, Nes. He’s been lying to us for that long.”

He wrenched his hand from hers at that. Cassian knew he was being unfair and unreasonable, but he was angry. Maybe he had no right to be but one does not think clearly when in the clutches of fury.

As his previous confusion and hurt settled, they left behind only anger in their wake. That is what he felt right now. Anger. At Azriel, for lying to them all this time, for hiding something so significant. Did he not consider them brothers?

Before he could succumb to the ravages of anger, his darling mate was there to pull him back, as she always did.

“I can feel all that you know. Don’t let your anger override what you know to be true. This relationship of Azriel…it has nothing to do with us. We’re not entitled to anything regarding it just because we’re his family.”

“Oh so what I’m just supposed to ignore the fact that he’s been lying to us about his whereabouts and plans for the past two years, when he could have just told us?”

“No I am asking you to trust Azriel. You know your brother, Cass, probably more than anyone else. You know that he has a reason for everything he does and you know that he would never do anything to hurt his family intentionally. If nothing else, trust in that.”

Cassian sighed a defeated sigh. His mate was right, as she always was. For whatever reason Azriel had decided to keep this relationship a secret, Cassian would have to trust in it. And when the time came, he hoped his brother would feel comfortable revealing the truth himself.

……………………………………..................................................

Little did Cassian know, that despite the fact that he had made Nesta swear not to tell Azriel’s secret, he had unintentionally revealed it to a third. For outside their bedroom clutching books she had meant to return, stood Elain. Elain, who had almost torn the books with how hard she was clutching them. Elain, who’s hands quivered with rage.

This is why Azriel had been ignoring her. All these months she had been trying to get his attention and he had always slipped away. Because of this?? Some common girlfriend?

No matter. Elain would get him back. How could he ignore her for some commoner? Who deserved his love more than her?

As she walked away, already planning her schemes, a wicked thought went through her mind, a precaution in case she couldn’t convince Azriel:

If I can’t have him, no one can.

...............................................................................................

Azriel POV:

The past few days had been the happiest he had ever been. Although Azriel wasn’t quite sure how fair that judgement was. Each hour he spent with his nightingale, he deemed his happiest. And it has been two years of such blissful happiness. Two years together at each other’s side that they were celebrating today.

He had already arrived at the same café they had breakfast a few days ago and was now anxiously awaiting his beloved girlfriend. Honestly, he would have preferred that the two arrive together, not wanting to spend a minute away from his nightingale. But alas, not everything had to be as he wished. As soon as she had woken up, his nightingale had slipped out from his arms (something he had still not forgiven) and had rushed to her book shop. According to her, she had some urgent delivery that she just had to be there for. Therefore she had promised him that she would meet him directly at the café.

That left him, sitting in their favorite spot in the café, with his head swiveling to the door every time it opened, hoping his nightingale had arrived. It wasn’t like she was late, it’s just that he too early, wanting what he hoped would be a great start to a celebration filled day.

“Oh, Azriel!”

He heard his name be called, but his heart instantly dropped, that voice did not belong to his nightingale. Turning around he saw…

“Elain? What are you doing here?”

“What a coincidence, Az! I was just out for some errands and thought I would get myself a drink. I’m absolutely parched! Thank the Cauldron for this lovely café!” Elain replied in an unusually high pitched voice.

“Yes, how lovely…” he trailed off, gaze flicking to the door. He knew his girlfriend would be arriving soon and he would much rather Elain not be here for that… for a plethora of reasons.

“Well, what are the chances of meeting you here Az? And look, you’re alone too! Why don’t we have lunch together, it feels like we haven’t caught up in forever.”

“Actually I’m meeting some…”

He never got to finish his sentence. If someone asked him later what happened, Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to explain it. One second Elain was smiling at him, trying to grab his hand, the next her gaze turned cold, flicking to something behind him. The next thing he knew, within a matter of seconds, Elain had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and smashed her lips to his.

What. The. Fuck.

Azriel didn’t even process what had happened, didn’t even realize that she was kissing him. Elain. Was. Kissing. Him.

The last thought jolted him out of his state of shock and he pushed her away. Not caring for who saw or heard, he yelled,

“What the fuck Elain? You can’t just grab people like that! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Oh c’mon Az. It was barely a peck. I had barely begun to enjoy it,” Elain replied with a callous smirk.

All of a sudden he did not recognize her; he didn’t recognize the cruelty in her eyes, the indifference in her expression. Where was the kind hearted woman he considered a friend? And who was standing in front of him in her place? When he didn’t say anything, still riddled with shock, Elain continued,

“Well no matter. It may have been short but it achieved it’s purpose,” Elain replied slyly. She inched closer and grazed her hand up his arm and whispered, “if you want to continue, I would gladly indulge you, Azriel.”

He didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with her, why she was doing this, in a crowded café no less. But Azriel was way too uncomfortable to try to find out. He wrenched his arm away from her and was about to give her a piece of his mind when he saw it again: Elain’s gaze flickering to something behind him with a wicked smirk on her face. One of victory.

Hoping against hope it wasn’t what he feared it was, Azriel turned around. And it was like time itself had stopped. For there, at the entrance of the café, with tears streaming down her face, stood his girlfriend, his nightingale. A millennia could pass and Azriel would not forget the raw pain, the betrayal shining in her eyes amidst the tears.

No. No. No. No. No. This is not happening. This cannot be happening.

He took one step toward her, to explain, to make her understand he had no fault in what she had seen. But before he could, his nightingale turned around and left the café.

Not knowing what to do, Azriel followed after her to see her almost running away from him.

“Love! Please! Listen to me, its not what it looks like,” Azriel begged, anguish lacing every word.

“Oh please Azriel. Do you know how typical you sound right now?” He did, Cauldron he did. But she had to understand…

“Darling I would never hurt you like that. I don’t even know why she was there… or how… but you have to understand… she kissed me! I pulled away… I would never do that to you,” Azriel let out. He knew his fragmented thoughts probably didn’t make much sense. But panic and fear were making it difficult to come up with something cohesive.

“Really, Azriel? You don’t know what she was doing there?! For Cauldron sake, Azriel! I know you called her there. You know, if you wanted to break up with me, you should have done it yourself like a man. You didn’t have to use her for it!” his nightingale spat at him.

What? Break up with her? Break up with the one blessing the Mother had bestowed upon him? What the hell was she talking about?

“Love… I don’t…”

“You don’t what? Huh? Have any need for me anymore? Well you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way, please go enjoy your life with your darling Elain?” His girlfriend yelled, throwing out Elain’s name like it was poison.

Vaguely he sensed Elain coming up behind them. How did she catch up with them? His love spat out a wry laugh, before saying,

“Look, she’s here to get you Azriel. Go be with your love.”

Before he could refute it, Elain jumped in,

“Its okay, Azriel. I told her everything. She’s not in the way anymore. We can be together now!”

“Elain, have you lost your mind? What the hell are you doing? Why are you doing this? You-”

“Cut the act Azriel. Go. Enjoy your life.”

And with that his nightingale walked away for good, taking the shattered pieces of his heart and soul with her.

… … … … … … … … … … … …

Azriel stood in that spot like a blubbering fish for Cauldron knows how long. He was smarter than this. He was quicker than this. He knew that. But for some reason his mind felt addled, like it was submerged in some murky fog. He couldn’t think straight for some reason.

What the fuck had just happened? Did it truly happen? No, it had to be a nightmare. It had to be. He didn’t just lose the love of his life. He didn’t. He wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Azriel had almost convinced himself of his own delusion, when Elain’s rustling snapped him out of his daze. The woman had the gall to walk away after everything she just did. Not so fast. He grabbed her by the arm and yelled in her face, propriety and etiquette long forgotten,

“WHAT THE FUCK ELAIN? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?”

She wrenched her arm back and held her head up high when responding, as if she just had just committed some honorable deed,

“I did what I had to. You were never there Azriel. I always tried to talk to you… but you were never there. And to find out that it’s because of her! Some commoner! I couldn’t bear it. But she’s not here anymore, Azriel, we can be together!”

“What?! Are you hearing yourself Elain? I don't love you! Not like that, I never have-”

“BUT I LOVE YOU! WHY ISN’TTHAT ENOUGH!” Elain screamed back.

“You’re out of your mind. You… how did you even find out?”

“Cassian told me,” Elain replied calmly, her demeanor immediately changing. There was something seriously wrong with her.

But her words were what caused his world to stop spinning.

“What?”

“Cassian told me. He saw the two of you together the other day and told me that I would find you here today as well.”

His mind was reeling. Cassian knew too? How? He had been so careful with everything? How had it slipped past him so easily?

Elain patted his shoulder one last time before saying,

“We’re meant to be together, Azriel. I love you so much that I’ll ignore this commoner you were sullying yourself with. She might have left you. But I’m always here for you with open arms.”

And then Elain left, simply and quietly. As if she had not sentenced Azriel to a life without the one happiness he had salvaged for himself in this cruel world.

..........................................................................................

Cassian POV:

Cassian had been sharpening his blades in the training arena, waiting for the Valkyries to arrive, when he felt the wards shift. Someone had winnowed in. Before he could question who it was, he saw Azriel standing at the entrance.

Despite Nesta’s words, his immediate reaction at seeing his brother was one of annoyance. He doubted Azriel was here to confess so the continuing secrecy bothered him even now.

Any rant or anger that Cassian was planning on letting out, disappeared as he neared his brother. Azriel had tears streaming freely down his face, shoulders shaking from the sobs.

“How could you?”

Was all his brother let out. Cassian was at a complete loss for words. His brave stoic brother was falling apart before him and Cassian knew neither cause nor cure. His lion hearted brother who had bared five centuries of pain and trials and had never let out even a wince. And now… It seemed like something was tearing Azriel apart into shreds.

“Az, what’s wrong? I-

“How could you?” Azriel repeated, his sobs getting more and more violent. And each falling tear fell like acid on Cassian’s heart. All previous annoyance was replaced by an overwhelming urge to soothe and comfort.

“How could you? What did I ever do to you?” Azriel cried out again.

“Az… brother… I have no idea…”

“Oh don’t act stupid. Don’t act like you don’t know about my girlfriend!”

Oh. That is what this was about? Azriel knew that he knew? But why was he so upset about it? Cassian didn’t think him finding out warranted such a reaction-

“You knew and you send Elain there to ruin everything!”

What? Elain? What did she have anything to do with this?

“You ruined everything! My nightingale… she’s gone… she won’t even talk to me… She won’t look at me… And it’s all your fault!” Azriel let out in between hiccups of tears.

Cassian knew he had to intervene before Azriel spiraled into a full panic attack.

“Brother, calm down. Alright, yes I saw the two of you at the café, but I only told Nesta, I swear on it. I have no idea what you’re talking about, or what Elain has to do with anything.”

Azriel moved further away from him. The utter betrayal shining in his eyes made Cassian want to bury himself in the darkest corner of the world. He did not know what his fault was but he was ready to spend eternity atoning for it if it meant Azriel would no longer be in the pain he was so clearly in.

“DO NOT LIE TO ME!” Azriel roared, leaving Cassian stunned, “ You did this! You couldn’t bear it, could you? You couldn’t stand the fact that I was happy so you sent Elain to ruin everything. You always do this, you always have to take everything away from me!”

Before Cassian could ask for an explanation or beg for forgiveness for a crime he did not know, Azriel had winnowed away.

Alone, his mind was working on overdrive. What did Elain have to do with anything? Cassian was no fool. He had long been aware of the youngest Archeron sister’s affections for his brother. But he also knew his brother had never reciprocated those affections, had always seen Elain as nothing more than a friend.

How did she know about Azriel’s relationship? Nesta could not have told her. Despite how close the two sisters were, his mate had sworn to him and he knew Nesta enough to know that she did not go back on an oath. Had Elain somehow overheard them? And if she had, what could she possibly have done to cause Azriel so much pain?

So many questions were whirring through his head, not one of them had a coherent answer. But amidst the chaos, a singular thought rang the loudest, and it was one that pierced Cassian’s heart:

What have I done?

[system-to-the-madness]

Heart to Heart - Zuko x Reader

Word Count: 2 870 Warnings: mentions of war and death Summary: Zuko and you share a quiet moment at the Western Air Temple A/N: Can be read as a oneshot; Part Five of the series Perfect (10 times Zuko thought you were perfect and the first time he told you)

“So, you decided breaking into a Fire Nation prison would be a good idea, huh?”

Zuko sat at the edge of the ruin of the Western Air Temple, looking out into the valley, his feet dangling in the air. At the sound of your voice, he looked up.

“Well, perhaps not a good idea, but we ended up with pretty good results, I’d think,” he answered, watching as you sat down next to him, your knees pulled up to the chest as if you were cold.

“True, I’ll give you that,” you admitted with a smile. “And I think it’s definitely gotten you some sympathy points from Katara.”

“You think,” Zuko asked hopefully. “I desperately need those. She hates me!”

“Give her time,” you said nonchalantly. “To her you embodied pretty much all that is evil, topped probably only by your sister and your father. She’ll come around.”

“How about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do I embody all that is evil to you, too?”

You turned to look at him, taking in his appearance for a good while, making him self-conscious under your intense eyes.

“For a while you did, I guess,” you answered eventually.

Okay, not the answer he had hoped for, but what had he expected? That you confessed you had always known he was good at heart? Hardly. He had tried to capture or kill the Avatar and his friends a few too many times for that.

“But Katara didn’t see you put yourself in danger to free Appa,” you continued. “It made me doubt the things I knew about you. The conversation you had with your uncle did, too.”

Zuko nodded, turning to watch the sky. A few clouds drifted past, thousands of stars lighting up the night.

"I made a lot of mistakes," Zuko admitted. “I can’t blame any of you for not trusting me, for not wanting to trust me.”

“Things are changing, you know,” you told him, reaching over and gently nudging his shoulder. His breath hitched at the soft contact. “You helped Aang to gain his confidence back about Fire Bending. He still has a long way to go, but it’s amazing that he agreed to try it again in the first place. And it’s kind of reassuring that you’re drawing your power not from anger anymore.”

The last sentence made Zuko smile a little.

“It feels different now, my Bending,” he explained. “Before it always felt violent, and… sort of hard, I guess. Like volcanic glass. Even when I trained it always felt like with each shot I fired, I was kicking or punching against a wall. Now it feels like it’s flowing, somehow. Like the heat and the fire is not some wild animal I have to force out, but a power that bends to my will.”

“That does sound like a big difference,” you agreed.

Zuko shrugged. “I’m still not as powerful as Azula though,” he mumbled. “I had hoped that with the new technique I might gain some ground on her, but it still feels like she’s miles ahead of me.”

“Right, you encountered her when you went ‘fishing’, right?” You drew quotation marks into the air, making Zuko roll his eyes in amusement.

“Yeah, she almost would have caught us, doubtlessly to put us in a snug little fishbowl where she could tease us the whole day.”

“This might sound like a stupid question, but,” you hesitated for a moment, “what would you do if you were more powerful than her, powerful enough to easily best her.”

Confused Zuko turned to you. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… would you try to kill her? Capture her? She’s your sister after all. Even with all the messed-up things she’s done, nobody here expects you to kill her.”

Zuko turned back to look out over the valley. You were right. All this time, for years, ever since childhood, ever since she had first beaten him in training, he had wished he would be good enough to overpower her. But then what?

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “I don’t know what I’d do.”

For a moment he just looked out into the canyon. In the starlight he could faintly make out the other buildings hanging from the ceiling into the abyss. What had it been like when the Air Nomads had still lived here? Every window of every tower must have been lit up, thousands of lights like a mirror of the sky above. Had Sky Bisons roamed between the houses? Drifted slowly through the night? What other animals had populated these temples? Had it truly been as peaceful as he imagined it now to have been? Zuko inhaled deeply.

“The thing about Azula is… I was always chained to her in a way.” He could see you furrowing your brows at him questioningly from the corner of his eyes. “There were no kids my age living in the palace, but Azula had two friends, Mai and Ty Lee. And I was always expected to play with the three of them. Often, I thought it was stupid, they made me feel stupid. I was older than them, and had other interests, but it almost seemed a game to them to find something I hated or would humiliate myself doing… Mai was the only one who would speak up for me sometimes. But only when it was about smaller things; she was too scared of Azula. I can’t blame her. Actually, I ended up dating her for a while.”

“You had a girlfriend,” you asked, but Zuko didn’t notice the hesitation in your voice.

“Yeah, we were together for a while after… after I betrayed my uncle. But I ended things, to join you. She saved our lives, on Boiling Rock. She stopped the guards from cutting the line to the gondola.”

“She sounds like a good person, and brave,” you said quietly. “You must miss her.”

Zuko stayed oblivious to the unasked question in your statement.

“I don’t know… not really. If I’m honest, I’m not even sure why I was together with her,” he shook his head. “It sounds cruel, but the only reason why I got together with her was because it felt like the right thing to do, after returning home. I knew she had always liked me, and somehow, I thought if I were dating someone, it would stabilize the life I was hoping to live. I like her, yes, but not the way you’re supposed to like the person you’re dating. I’m just sorry I was selfish enough to hurt her without a second thought.”

“You’re young, all of us are. I think it’s inevitable to make mistakes when it comes to things like love. Only the luckiest ones can claim to never have hurt someone,” you tried consoling him.

“The thing is, I knew it was going to hurt her. But I kept doing it anyway. Maybe I was hoping my feelings would catch up eventually, but they never did.”

They couldn’t, Zuko thought to himself. Not while the idea of you had taken root in his heart. The thing that made him feel almost the guiltiest, was that even though you were hardly anything like what he had imagined you to be, he still felt enchanted by you. Glancing at you from the corner of his eyes, he only felt his sentiment confirmed. You were sitting there, wrapped in a thin coat to protect you against the chill of the night air, hair dancing slightly in the wind, face glowing from the fresh air and eyes reflecting the stars above. You were beautiful like this, perfect and beautiful. He was sure to never have seen anyone who was as beautiful as you in that moment.

“As I said,” you interrupted his train of enamoured thoughts, “we all make mistakes.”

“Some more than others,” Zuko frowned.

“That’s not what I meant,” you quickly denied. “I didn’t mean-”

“I know, don’t worry,” Zuko sighed. “I’m just upset with myself. I think some things were inevitable along the way. I mean, everyone grows somehow. But breaking Mai’s heart really wasn’t necessary. I could have avoided that if I had been a little more confident in myself.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” you agreed, clearly not sure what else you were supposed to say.

“I’m just hoping, Mai somehow knew we wouldn’t last,” Zuko continued absentmindedly. “We fought, quite often actually. I know I can be difficult, but it also often felt like she didn’t even try to understand me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… I know I can get jealous easily, so her anger at me for those instances was probably justified but… sometimes I just need time to think, you know? Not about something specific but… for example there was this war meeting and Azula was invited but I wasn’t. I was upset, because it made me feel like my father was rejecting me all over again, as if I weren’t good enough for him. I was upset and Mai… I know it wasn’t easy for her to see me like that, but it felt like she was trying to distract me so hard. Every time I had a problem or was concerned or worried about something, she tried to cheer me up and distract me, instead of allowing me to just give those feelings space.”

“I know what you mean. Sometimes you just want to give those feelings time, to process everything. Even if it’s difficult. But like you said, it probably was really hard for her to see you unhappy,” you offered your own thoughts, making Zuko nod.

“I guess you’re right. But we ended up getting into disagreements over things like that more and more often. Even if I would have stayed, I don’t think we would have been together for much longer.”

For a while silence settled over you, as you watched the night sky. Zuko wondered why the hell he had just shared all his relationship problems he had had with Mai with you. Maybe because he hoped you would understand him better if he did, would see him more as a human with emotions than the antagonist he had been for you over the past months.

“How about you,” he eventually asked, not sure if he even wanted to know the answer. “Do you have anyone special?”

You shrugged as if it wasn’t somewhat weird for him to ask that.

“Not really. I mean… being on the run from the world’s most powerful army makes it kind of hard to form any meaningful relationships outside of the group,” you answered. “And I don’t mind, really. I’m not like Sokka, who can just flirt with every girl he sees. I don’t think I’d feel comfortable with someone who I haven’t fallen in love with.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“No,” you shook your head, “you?”

Zuko turned to look at you again, taking in your form sitting beside him, knees still pulled up to your chest, chin resting on them, eyes fixed on a point far away.

“No, I mean… maybe once,” he answered. Was he in love with you? He certainly didn’t know you well enough to be in love with you, right? Maybe he was?

“If you don’t know, you probably weren’t,” you chuckled, turning your head to meet his eyes. “I think you’d know when you fall in love.”

“It’s difficult, okay,” Zuko defended, making you laugh quietly.

“Or maybe you’re just bad at figuring out your own feelings,” you offered with a teasing glint in your eyes.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Zuko grumbled and turned his head away embarrassedly. Another gentle shove against his shoulder made him look back at you.

“I’m teasing,” you told him, with a soft smile that made his heart melt. “I’m sorry if I-”

“No, I know, don’t worry,” Zuko took a deep breath. “I’m just not used to being teased without it being with some kind of ill intentions, I guess.”

“Well, Sokka’s gonna get you used to that real quick,” you laughed. By all the spirits, he loved your laugh. “He’s brilliant when it comes to making plans and coming up with ideas, but he’s also the biggest goofball I’ve ever met. He cares more than he tries to let on and is one of the most reliable people I can imagine when things go south.”

“We fought my sister together,” Zuko recalled. “It was weird, a few weeks ago we would have ripped each other apart, but when we went up against Azula together, he really had my back… he makes it very easy to trust him.”

“He does, doesn’t he,” you agreed. “He might not outright say it, but he really appreciated you going to look for his father with him. Thank you.”

“I’m just glad I was able to help. There have been enough families that got torn apart because of me. Knowing I could help reunite at least one is… it feels good.”

You grinned at his side. “It was a brave thing to do, to break into that prison just like that.”

“Brave? More stupid than anything, but thanks.”

“Bravery and stupidity are not as far apart as some would like to believe,” you chuckled, making him smile.

“My uncle would like you,” he confessed, watching your smile shift into a questioning expression. “He’d probably share his wise phrases with you all day long.”

“Your uncle sounds like a good man,” you said, and Zuko nodded.

“I think, I understand him better now than I did before. He lost his son in the war, and he was never the same again. I think, he developed a strong dislike for any kind of conflict and when my father exiled me, he decided to come with me… I don’t know why, maybe to save me from the fate Lu Ten met… I think Uncle Iroh was more a father to me than my own father ever was. It’s strange seeing Sokka and Katara with their father, seeing what normal parents are like with their children. It makes me mad at my father, that he wasn’t like that. Mad and… vulnerable, I guess.”

“I can’t imagine what that’s like,” you mumbled. “I don’t remember much of my father, but even my stepfather was always caring towards me. I’m sorry you didn’t get to experience that.”

“I guess, over time I’ve gotten used to it. Which didn’t stop me from begging for his approval, I’ll admit that. But now… I just hope I can see my uncle again and apologize to him for all I’ve done. After all these years that he accompanied me… I don’t know how I can make up for all the support he has given me, and how I betrayed him.”

“I’m sure when the time comes, you’ll know what to say and do. I think your uncle would be proud to know how you finally stood up for yourself.”

Zuko nodded thoughtfully. He just hoped your words would come true. He didn’t even know where Uncle Iroh was right now, whether he was even alive. If he ever got to see him again… how was he supposed to make up for all his uncle had done for him? How could he ever earn his uncle’s forgiveness after that terrible betrayal?

“Can I ask you something?”

Zuko perked up at your question but nodded.

“Earlier you said… you said your father exiled you,” you carefully asked. “I’d understand if you don’t want to talk about it but…”

“No, it’s fine,” Zuko shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

“Mostly just… what happened?”

“It was… foolish, both of me and my father. It started over-”

Before Zuko could even really begin telling you his story, Toph’s voice carried through the night.

“Katara made hot milk with honey for everyone!”

“Let’s talk another time,” Zuko offered, getting off the ground. His feet felt strange, standing on solid ground again after dangling in the air for so long.

“Another time,” you agreed, taking the hand Zuko had offered you and let him help you to your feet.

Your hand was small and cool in his, and he had to resist the urge to keep his fingers closed around yours, just to feel your skin against his for a short while longer. When he hesitantly let go of your hand, it felt like a wave of ice was spreading from his heart, and he immediately ached for any sort of contact with you again.

He really was an idiot, wasn’t he, he wondered as he followed you past some rubble back to the others, who were sitting around a campfire. Seeing all these people, who so willingly had adopted him into their group, another ache, the warm and gentle kind, spread through his body. After all this time, for the first time in his life, he felt like he truly belonged somewhere. He had earned his place in this group. And when you motioned for him to sit down next to you and offered him a cup with steaming hot, sweet milk, he couldn’t help but think that he didn’t want it any other way.

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