#and if you don't love them leave them alone

[saymio]

In Ho headcanons | (NSFW)

Pairing: Hwang In-ho (player 001/the front man) x Fem!reader

Genre: headcanons, smut

Warning: dead dove do not eat, manipulation, dubcon, age gap might be more but im too lazy to write it down

A/N: not proof read. thanos story in the works rn!! I have writers block so to help a little I'm making some hcs 4 this baddie (prob ooc)

hwang inho, the man that protected you from Thanos and his stupid friend during the first day of the games. he shoo'ed them away. stopping their harassment and took you with him with the rest of the group

hwang inho, the man that gives you his milk. reassuring you every time that its okay for you to have it, and it'll help you get stronger.

hwang inho, the man that checks up on you throughout the night. standing over you to make sure you're getting your nights rests. making sure no creeps try touching your delicate skin.

hwang inho, the man that lets touches linger a little longer than they should, whether its on your hands, thighs, waist..his touches feel more than platonic

hwang inho, the man that tells the guards to make sure you stay safe, to kill a player that hasn't broken the rules if they had to. anything to make sure you stay safe.

hwang inho, the man that would excuse himself to the bathroom just to touch himself to the thought of you. whether its your calm voice or plush hands that feel so soft and delicate...he just couldn't help it.

hwang inho, the man that squeezes your thighs when no ones looking...and when you express discomfort he used his past generosity as an excuse for it.

hwang inho, the man that will kiss you in the middle of the night with no warning. telling you to be quiet and take the kiss because if it were any other man it would've been worse.

hwang inho, the man that will find the perfect timing to sneak away from everyone else with you. he'll make you strip for him in the bathroom. savoring every inch of your body before he sends you away, leaving him in there alone to masturbate.

hwang inho, the man that wont let you sleep. he'll grope and squeeze your thighs, tits and ass. feeling you up while you hold in tears.

hwang inho, the man that reminds you this is your fault when you cry to him during a bathroom strip session. expressing how uncomfortable this makes you and how you don't want it anymore.

hwang inho, the man that will tell you nothing in the world is free. and your body will be the payment he receives for being so generous with you.

hwang inho, the man that gets hard thinking about your age gap. how youre only 19 and he's in his 40's..he loves it.

hwang inho, the man that slips his fingers inside of you when the lights are off, fingering you aggressively. reminding you once again that it'd be so much worse if he wasn't such a nice man.

hwang inho, the man that captures you during the raid against the guards. forcing you to stare into the eyes of your past friends as he kills them.

hwang inho, the man that keeps you as his pet after the games end. reminding you you're lucky because he spoils you with money.

hwang inho, the man that doesn't let you socialize with anyone after he's gotten his grip on you.

Another not: this one is pretty short compared to my last fic, this was to just try n get me out of writers block. expect a Thanos fic to pop up tmr. sorry if this sucked/was ooc, I tried my best T T~~

[teaboot]

Growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence?

My earliest memory of what I would call self-awareness occurred spontaneously in the middle of my fourth birthday party, where I suddenly became alert to my existence as a separate entity surrounded by other conscious beings.

This presented to me as not dissimilar to simply being brushed along the flow of a river- experiencing life as a serious of flashbang moments and instants and sensations, like meditating to music until the individual notes break into sounds that follow no rhythm and are only noise- no past or future, only now- and then suddenly finding yourself holding a paddle in the belly of a boat with no idea what to do next.

I remember running to the body that felt safest, who I did not recognize as anything else, and asking it who all the strangers around us were. The person that I learned was my mother told me they were my aunties and uncles, and I was being silly because I KNEW them, and why was I so shy all of a sudden?

Learning to articulate myself after that instant, I remember, was immensely frustrating. Learning your first language, as I remember it, is wuite a bit like how Ive been told recovering from brain damage feels like.

YOU know what you mean. YOU know what you're saying. But there are holes where you reach for something you know MUST be there and find nothing, and must find a way to communicate using only what you have at hand. Except there are always faces looking at you, talking down to you, asking you to do tricks for them to prove you really are a real human person.

I loved art, and I'm very good at it, but GETTING good at it was the worst. I'm told I started with scribbles at six months or so, before I could walk, and at three and four I remember being immensely frustrated that I could see in my head exactly what I wanted to produce, and I didn't know how to PRODUCE it.

And simple shit, like drawing shapes and circles, developing fine motor skills. You FULLY UNDERSTAND THE ASSIGNMENT, but your hands are soft and wobbly and don't cooperate. Getting your mouth and body to obey your directions is hellish, especially when all the appliances and furniture and installations around you are built for someone easily triple your size.

Chairs are hard to sit in when you're small and cant touch the ground. Your legs dangle and you cant scoot closer to the table, and the backrest is so far back you cant use it for support, and the table comes up past your chest so your chin is amost in your plate and your dumb clumsy hands cant hold a big spoon or fork in a way that feels natural or elegant so you end up smearing shit EVERYWHERE and getting yapped at for having your elbows on the counter.

Reading people was interesting. Most people are condescending and plastic when you're small, and you can tell when they're being saccharine and fake, but you're told the polite thing is to believe what they say and be polite back. I used to try using big sentences on purpose just to het them to leave me alone. "What a pretty girl! Can you say Hello?" was the most common ask I can recall. Id answer with the floweriest thing I could think of, usually, "I'm very well, thank you for asking, how are you?", because people only ask you interesting questions after you do well enough on their tests to prove you're people.

Being small was very tiring, and very frustrating, and becoming aware of myself in my own head probably made everything a lot worse overall.

No regrets, though. From what I can recall, life is far more enjoyable when you're aware of it occurring. Time can't slow down until you know it's there, I think

Being a baby full of instincts felt like living as a live grenade. Being a child was far harder, but more Full. More Human. A LOT more like adulthood than infancy, and I was very determined to remember that.

If any of that makes sense

[kinichval]

all at once, everything is different

he finds no meaning in celebrating the day of his birth (or creation), yet this year he finds himself whispering a wish — please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh he can recognize anywhere.

content. wanderer x rtawahist!fem!reader, wanderer is addressed as hat guy, reader can see aranara, not dating but clearly in love ykwim, one (1) kiss, hat guy hates his birthday, not-so-mean because his soft spot is showing lol, mediocre writing, slight angst if u squint. | 3.5k words

“hat guy, you have a visitor!”

the said man groans and shuts his eyes, displeased with the interruption. if ignoring the knocks were not enough to convey the message, then he will not be liable for his harsh tone over the unwanted company.

except, well, the visitor on the other side of the door happened to be his new friend — durin.

wait, what the fuck is he doing with nahida?

“hat guy!” the little dragon's enthusiasm explodes across the room. he quickly flies over to the indigo-haired scholar, taking a peek at the paperwork on his desk. “what are you doing?” his curiosity is rather adorable, though hat guy would not let that thought slip out his lips (and hopefully the dendro archon wouldn't attempt to read his mind).

“i'm working on a new thesis.” he simply responds, durin lets out an innocent ‘woah’ although he knows he doesn't fully grasp the concept. nahida giggles; the thesis proponent has been cooped up in this room for days, it's a given that scholarly papers and academic writing generally takes months before completion, but it's also clear to her that his response was merely an excuse.

“let's go out, hat guy!” durin initiates, flipping in the air as excitement rushes through his little body as he expects his first friend to agree — only to frown when hat guy scoffs, “i'm busy right now. let's plan another time.” hat guy hopes the compromise would convince his dragon friend to leave him alone and so will the dendro archon.

but no, both of them are determined to reign victorious against his convictions.

hat guy knew what day is it today, he sighs heavily, eager to stay put in his lair doing whatever academic duty there is just to avoid the light of day and utmostly reject the idea of celebration.

it's as if a simple greeting of ‘happy birthday’ bears no sense of something, it feels awkward to receive such words when he feels nothing about the beginning of his existence. was he supposed to say ‘thank you’ when in the first place it's an unsolicited message?

one of these days, he's sure to receive a smack on the back of his head if this attitude continues.

(he'll just protect his head then.)

(unless the prevailing lord of sumeru casts a more perilous punishment when he wears her patience thin.)

durin's crimson eyes dulls, the drop in his float and lowered head presents his broken heart, “allow me to go through your progress and i'll leave my own criticisms, take it as a partial checking. we wouldn't want to finish a thesis then realize the whole paper is wrong, would we?” nahida suggests, her eyes round and pleading. hat guy stares down at his desk, almost praying to some other god — probably the anemo one, though he doesn't have much faith in the freedom archon — to make nahida and durin realize that he is unavailable at the moment.

“come on, hat guy, today looks like a good—” nahida's words are immediately cut off when hat guy finally looks at their gazes, “fine!” he abruptly stands up with his palms on the desk, the split second of his widened eyes being enough evidence for nahida to see his true feelings without needing to use her mind-reading prowess.

“really?!” durin's eyes sparkle and wings flap in triumph, hat guy groans in defeat, and nahida smiles brightly. “but i'll decide when the day is over.” his tone is as cold as his color palette, but durin does not complain about his condition, his little cheers soften hat guy's bleak exterior.

hat guy detests walking around the heart of sumeru during this time of the year, he remembers in the previous year when akademiya students ambushed him just to get him to blow a sickeningly sweet birthday cake. he lowers his head, until now he can't fully comprehend the nature of birthdays and its significance — for mortals, it may be because their lifespans are merely a flick of a finger compared to non-human races.

he has already lived for so long and will continue to do so, but what part of birthdays satisfy fulfillment if he rejects it himself? it's even so absurd that he is expected to extend gestures to others on his own day.

“hey, hat guy, do you know those tiny things with hats and a smiley face?” the little dragon's query snaps hat guy out of his zoned out state, he momentarily pauses to think what creatures he is referring to before furrowing his brows at the unsure conclusion in his mind, “what things?” the boy envisions the forest spirits around sumeru, the aranara. he doubts durin means the smiles as they do not have a smile, still he remarks those elemental clusters as cute.

“those little things! with hats like yours!” durin tries his best at composing his description, “wait, they have pointy hats, yours is flat.” his voice is small at the realization of the difference in design, “you should know what i mean, right?” he flies right in front of hat guy's face, hoping that his thoughts will get through to his friend.

“perhaps you mean the aranara? they're plant-like forest spirits in sumeru. where did you see one? they don't often show themselves as i've known.” hat guy explains, he sees the bright grin on durin's face, the sight melts him.

he knows the aranara only allows their presence to be known by children (adults can see them but terms and conditions must be met first, e.g. the traveler), and deep down he hopes for durin to take sight of those little things. he believes that durin is a child at heart, not only his small size and curious nature, but his core is akin to a little kid who dreams and hopes.

“they're called aranara? it sounds adorable!” durin giggles, “i saw a couple of them tailing behind the archon! do you think i can befriend them?” hat guy smiles, his sentiments mirroring durin's aspirations. “you can go find them and ask for a friendship contract.” he smirks, obviously teasing the little dragon, though his words carry genuine wishes for durin to create friendships.

“do we like call for them? i want to talk to one!” durin's eagerness at meeting the aranara spreads warmth in his chest, “you have to be patient. they'll appear whenever they deem right.” hat guy responds, he's not entirely knowledgeable about their decisions when or when not to appear, but he knows enough that the aranara values the people of sumeru — even if they're unseen, they're the nation's closest companion.

and he's assured enough that the aranara will welcome durin just as much as he was accepted as their friend.

“there you are!” a deep voice pipes up nearby, durin hastily flies behind hat guy to hide from the unknown voice. “who's there?” the little dragon closes his eyes, the fear of being judged is still within him, hence hat guy extends out both his arms as an act of protecting durin as his gaze seeking out who had spoken to them.

the general mahamatra comes to sight, albeit the most distinguishable factor for hat guy is the tall ears poking out from his hat. his right eyebrow is raised, posing a skeptical expression at the big-eared hat guy's presence and intentions with him.

“ah, the famous hat guy of the vahumana darshan. i believe you remember me from the interdarshan championship last year?” cyno utters, there's a prideful look on his face that makes hat guy even more wary of where this is going. “i recall our sparring moments during the competition, yes, you were the representative for spantamad.” hat guy responds, he knows this man is a big persona in the nation although he couldn't dig it in his memory what his name was.

“speak your intentions, i do not have the luxury of time right now.” hat guy asserts, he watches as cyno takes a deep inhale — and wonders what it's for — before he takes hat guy's hand and slaps down a stack of cards (dear archon, how did he manage to hide a tall stack?)

“do you know about genius invokation tcg? i've been meaning to find you and discuss the game. i have high hopes that you'll be a prodigy of a player, so please hear me out. i have read a few of your research, i applaud your intelligence and critical thinking for curating reasonable claims and powerful arguments. you know what else uses the same strategy? tcg! with your keen observation, wits, and quick analysis, i'm sure you'll be sumeru's second best player — i'm the first, of course — please accept my offer and play with me, i assure you that it is an efficient mental exercise outside of the akademiya. furthermore, playing with others allows a space for building relationships and strengthening bonds. what do you say, hat guy?”

oh, cyno definitely needed that deep inhale. hat guy, on the other hand, is bewildered.

“hat guy, what is he talking about?” durin whispers in his ears, still out of sight.

“you should take upon his offer, hat guy. not only will you gain friends in sumeru, but also acquire a reputable image across teyvat.” the green-eyed desert guy (who hat guy knows as the one who's oddly interested in his hat) shows up and backs up cyno's claim.

right now, he feels like nahida casted him in some weird dream spell because what the hell is going on?

hat guy scoffs, “only brains as small as a sweet flower seed would reckon that a measly card game is enough to be a backbone of life-and-death bonds.” still, the stack of cards remained in his hand.

as if cyno was about to take no for an answer, “keep the stack, hat guy. maybe one day you'll have a change of mind, come find me if you find it in yourself to admit that this game is—”

“hat guy!” another voice pops up in the scenario, but rather than having his guard up higher, hat guy's shoulders seem to relax upon hearing your voice.

as you enter the scene, you immediately realize the situation. there's a look of dread in hat guy's eyes that shows his disagreement towards card games. “general mahamatra, pardon for the intrusion, but please do excuse hat guy and his… displeasure with tcg. i'm sure there are other skilled scholars who are more interested in playing a match with you.” you intervene, a nervous laugh at the end because despite this silly interaction, cyno still holds a high position and you know the power this man has.

cyno was about to respond, but sethos — the green-eyed desert guy — beats him to it, “apologies, my lady. the general here just wants a formidable opponent because apparently i don't play enough tcg.” sethos explains as he casually points his thumb at cyno, “i'm not interested to be your opponent.” hat guy coldly rejects.

“no! you will play tcg with me one da—” sethos covers his mouth that he almost stumbled backwards, they bicker among themselves.

“hey, yn! long time, no see!” you hear durin's little whisper, you assume he's hiding behind hat guy, a giggle passes your lips and the endearing thought. “hey, durin. i missed you!” for a moment, you reminisce the first time durin visited the real world — you met him them as he and hat guy relayed to you the tales of simulanka and all the shenanigans that occurred.

“anyways! hat guy, you know you'd be so cute with your hair tied up.” sethos grinned, the change in topic also brightened up his aura however it only dimmed hat guy's. he takes off hat guy's hat, now he's just guy, and his fingers swiftly grabs a portion of his midnight-hued hair and ties a little bun.

and the cherry on top, a bow.

“...tch.”

hat guy never had his hair tied, you had played with a few strands whenever he lays down on your lap, but that's the closest his hair ever got touched. mini durin struggles to hide his laughter at the sight of his best friend's angered face being ten times more adorable with the new hairstyle.

he's extra convinced that this is just another dream simulated by nahida.

“i wonder what you would look like with your hair braided.” you giggle, envisioning different styles on his jellyfish-like haircut. “whatever it is, don't.” hat guy rolls his eyes.

you, hat guy, and mini durin continue to walk to whoever knows where, your path has strayed away from the city but it's no issue when hat guy finds relief in not having to be jumped on by scholars.

along the way, laughter and banter were thrown back and forth. “don't pretend it's erased in history that you broke my favorite pen!” you nag him, “it was already cracked, it just happened to break apart in my hand!” he defends himself, this argument has been going on for months now, it's your personal grudge against him that you bring up whenever he tries to drag you down.

“it's raining!” durin points out as the rain loudly splatters on the ground, “oi!” hat guy yelps as you take his hat and hovers it over your heads. “c'mon it's big enough.” you reason out, he sighs and rolls his eyes, durin is in between you two as you walk to find a better shelter.

until a small meow catches your attention, as if on instinct, your eyes darts toward the sound's origin. it didn't take long to find a small cat inside a pot, wet in the rain. the little guy seemed to be alone with no owner or parent cat around.

and it didn't take another thought for hat guy to grab his hat and cover the white cat's head, leaving you and durin exposed to the rain, “i'll take you to the shelter. follow me if you want.” he says, but instead picks up the cat in his arms — talk about personal autonomy, no?

shortly, he returns to you and durin, the hat barely covering your group but settles with whatever his hat can provide. it's a wondrous sight, no words were spoken at this moment, even durin who enjoyed conversing let the serene silence overpower the rainfall.

and hat guy realizes that not a word had fallen off your lips about his birthday. you certainly had not forgotten, right?

suddenly, his chest feels empty, which is weird enough for he doesn't even possess a heart. a human heart. his ribs feel tight, as if clenching on nothing; he doesn't understand the anomaly taking place within his core, the cat meows and snuggles against his chest, serving as a temporary remedy for the internal ache.

sometimes you were infuriating. not for reasons that are shallow and certainly he doesn't wish for your demise; he finds you the cause of the berserk inside him, for whenever you two are within each other's parameters, suddenly he's at ease and for some reason that he time and time again fails to provide an answer for, troubled.

dear archons, hat guy could almost solve all of sumeru's political issues — if he dared to — but this predicament that involves you bears no fruition to his efforts in understanding the effect you have on him. the lack of an emotional organ within him feels more and more apparent when there's a rampant of feelings flowing in his blood.

is this what a heart is for?

“the sky's clearing up!” durin beams, flying forward. “don't fly too far, you don't know where you're going.” hat guy scolds the little dragon who muttered an apology and returns close to him. 

you settled in an abandoned hut, based on the nearby surroundings, it's safe to assume you're around the region in between avidya forest and vanarana. “are you hungry little guy?” durin converses with the lone cat that chooses to stay on hat guy's lap, rendering him immobile until the cat is satisfied with its rest.

“say, durin, do you know what today is?” you ask the dragon, he tilts his head in response, “hat day, is today a special day?” you softly smile at how closely tied durin is to hat guy, you've known him since the day he started as an akademiya student, you were together at the same table in the library. he wasn't the sociable type, he made that clear, but you were persistent to break into his personal bubble until you finally claim a spot in his vicinity.

“it's just a normal day.” hat guy rolls his eyes, but the slight tint of pink on his cheeks doesn't go unnoticed. for hat guy, you were like a cat that demands to be paid attention to, a ginger-colored one that he can not seem to predict. 

“really? the sun seems to be too bright just for today to be normal.” he's confused, were you about to break open the forest and have the entirety of sumeru to sing him a happy birthday or there's something else up your sleeve that he can't guess.

“is that an aranara?!” durin squeals upon the sight of a blue aranara walking towards the group, hat guy follows durin's line of sight and spots not just one or two, but a small group of aranaras… and origamis?

his brows furrowed in disbelief, “what's going on?” hat guy looks at you with a puzzled face, you want to snort at his expression because clearly he's trying to avoid his birthday.

and you were not about to let him disregard his day like that.

the army of aranara and origami surrounds hat guy, the aranara orients a necklace of origami flowers around his neck. their little squeals speak of their joyous sentiment for this moment, a moment that belongs to hat guy.

“happy birthday.”

hat guy is stuck in a trance when he finally hears you say it.

“happy birthday, hat guy!” durin exclaims, he's flipping in circles, finally releasing the words he desperately tried to hide since he saw him.

“happy birthday, blue nara!”

“happy birthday, hero of simulanka!”

hat guy puts his hand on his chest as the greetings continue to echo in his ears, is this what happiness feels like?

“thank you.” he simply responds, clearing his throat to regain his usual composure. 

“we have gifts for you!” you crouch down in front of him, a big smile on your face. you gesture the aranaras and paper squirrels to come forth, they carry boxes filled with secret stories whose main character is hat guy.

“i got one too!” durin flies down to sit beside hat guy, his own little gift in his embrace.

“why would you celebrate my birthday?” his voice falters as he lets the question fly past his lips, “because i care for you, hat guy. you're special to me.” you simply reply, hoping that it delivers the deeper meaning of his existence to your life.

you love him, you will forever do so.

hat guy hums, unsure how to reply when he's fighting his innermost turmoil of crystalflies. he resorts to opening the gifts instead, one box containing a hand-crafted paper doll of himself, the enraged expression has him instinctively mirroring the same look, “is this how you see me?” he scoffs, but they let him tell his rough comments and cold feedback as he continues his unboxing spree.

“i've got plenty of unusual stuff from you and you still haven't run out of ideas? even durin has his own contribution.” he sighs, his indigo orbs lingering on the gifts you prepared. the stack of tcg cards from cyno still in his possession.

“because you deserve to be reminded that you're loved and wanted.”

loved and wanted, huh?

hat guy quietly apologizes as he moves the cat off his lap, he leans down to you and his hands cup your cheeks. “last time i checked, you're one of the top rtawahist students, but i must refute your claim on that one.”

“then i'll defend my argument, the absence of a physical heart does not restrict your emotional intelligence and morale. your ribs may not house an organ, but your embrace has proven otherwise.”

you may not know the burden that he hides underneath his facade or the weights that made him believe that love is an outerworldly entity, but one thing you will attest to is the hat guy who knows how to love.

even if it takes years for hat guy to realize and admit that he loves, you will continue to be the one to assure him that it's alright.

for the love he yearns and continues to long for is the birthday gift you promise to give him every year. for as long as you live, and in every reincarnation, you will love hat guy.

hat guy covers durin's eyes as he leans down to collide his lips on yours. the crystalflies in his stomach explode, but it's soon replaced with fulfillment. maybe, he doesn't need a heartbeat to tell him that he can love when he's capable of choosing to love.

there's light in his life when you arrived that one afternoon asking what thesis he was working on, there was you who appeared to hold him when the akademiya felt suffocating, and there will always be you beside him who loves and teaches him love.

if the dendro archon is reading his mind right, he would like to say that he doesn't feel lonely now. he has you now. and even without a birthday cake, he'd like to make a wish: please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh i can recognize anywhere.

“it seems like you're the one who's looking forward to my birthday.”

[mythicmanuscripts]

..reader changing their signature clothing/accessory/whatever color to blue after marrying Aemond

Oh my god anon you are an absolute genius, I love this so much.

Nothing NSFW in this, just soft fluffy Aemond. Enjoy lads!

---------------------------

Firstly, I've always found it interesting how Aemond has a sapphire in his eye and not an emerald? Even if the sapphire was a random choice, he absolutely could have gotten an emerald to replace it once it became clear that the war would end up being blacks v greens.

Yet for some reason he never did. He says he wishes to serve his house yet he does not wear the color of his house? He didnt just not choose a colour, he actively chose a color other than the color of his house and would have had plenty of opportunities to swop it but always chose not to.

I've always thought that the choice of sapphire was a way of him distancing himself from his family, of showing how he isnt quite like them, isnt quite a green in the same way they are.

It's this that makes me think you choosing to wear blue would be so meaningful for him. When you first agree to the match and the wedding planning gets underway, you wear green. Of course you do, you're joining that family, you have to be seen as loyal to them. In particular you have to make sure you're seen as loyal to Allicent, that you're wear their green, their symbols, showing your integration into their house.

After the wedding, you slowly become closer with Aemond and begin to learn about him. You start to hear stories of how it was growing up for him, how he lost the eye, how he hates being the second son. He has so much more to him than you first expected.

You don't pressure Aemond to take off the eyepatch. You want him to be comfortable with you and that means you can't break his trust, ever.

But once he does take it off and you see the sapphire, you know immediately what you must do. You're able to make that choice now because you're part of the family. You no longer need to be on your best behaviour to ensure the match isnt called off. You're married to Aemond now. You don't need Allicent's approval to secure your place here anymore.

So you start to look for blue clothing items, in particular you look for that deep sapphire blue. You get necklaces and bracelets with sapphires, you get new dresses that are deep blue, coats and scarves too. Aemond doesn't notice the new clothes arriving, until one day you join him for lunch and you're wearing all blue.

He stares for a moment, awestruck, and then just says you look beautiful and things go back to normal. He thought this was just a new outfit you had gotten somehow, which is perfectly fine with him you can buy whatever you want. But then a few days later you're dressing for an event you must attend with him and again he sees you put on blue? This time he even sees you put on a necklace with a sapphire inside.

He forces himself to look away and refuses to even look at you for the entire event. You think you've done something horribly wrong, especially when he seats himself at the very end of the row of seats and you are forced to sit two rows down from him all on you own.

He leaves before you do, and so you when you watch back to your chambers alone you're surprised to see he is already there. You ask him what was wrong, and he just takes off his eyepatch and pulls you into a hug, crying softly into your shoulder because you've chosen him. You and him have your own side in this war, and that is the side that will prevail.

[missbellamere]

caitvi x male reader SMUT

--

caitvi x male reader

tw: literature and writing so beautiful you wouldn't be able to read anything else after this x2

mdni

--

You followed vi after she left you for Caitlyn.

"who the fuck is he and why is he here." Caitlyn said.

"EW OH MY LORD JUMP SCARE" vi said as she noticed you. "seriously, why are you here. I literally told u to go away and that I'm not interested in men."

"but I'm a straight man and I'm entitled!" you protested. "I can't stand the fact that lesbians exist and that they don't cater to me! I'm so mad! I'm going to post x male reader fan fiction on Tumblr and get mad when people call me out! btw I can also fix both of your sexualities! I'm 6'0 btw"

Caitlyn had to crank her neck to look down at you.

"6 feet? more like 6 centimeters. you can't fix us." Caitlyn shot back.

"Cait has fascist dictator tendencies and I caused my sister so much trauma it caused a disorder." VI added. "I don't think being lesbian is the issue here. also just look at you, you're the reason why bisexual girls turned lesbian."

anger boiled inside you because how dare women turn you down. how dare they have opinions. how dare the government from the handmaid's tale not be a real thing. you tried to jump vi but then Caitlyn tripped you and you fell on the ground like a pathetic loser.

"oh god why is it trying to fight." Cait said. "it tripped and it's not even wearing heels. and I'm wearing them. the platform 5 inch chinese laundry ones btw."

you tried to get up but vi knocked u unconscious

~~

tw: a bit of body horror

you woke up and u got tied to a chair. Caitlyn is angry asf cuz you attempted murder on her girlfriend. her girlfriend, not yours, because vi is a LESBIAN AND IS NOT INTERESTED IN MEN.

"how do men always find the balls and the audacity to do these things" Caitlyn thought out loud. "oh wait, I have an idea"

Caitlyn then got out this weird device.

"you have one more chance. say you'll leave fictional lesbians alone and I'll let you go."

"no. I will not leave fictional lesbians alone. all women must love men." you said idiotically.

"so which one of your balls are you the most attached to? I'll literally chop it off." she said as she got out her weird device and made a snapping noise twice with it.

you were so consumed by horror and you didn't answer her so she snipped both of them off and then left you for vi.

--

a/n: yall asked and I delivered

I hope I've done the genre of satire justice.

[lustlovehart]

Hi! It's me again, I was wondering after recalling some stuff about reader and Rollo how would the twst monster cast react to Reader, I don't know, them asking about the earring she's always wearing and her telling them is from her partner (house husband). I mean, I know they'd react hella jealous but in different ways.

I know is annoying buuuut I like to imagine a what if, instead of going all alone towards the missions, Crowley allowed Rollo to accompany her and meeting all this creatures and Rollo being the bad (hater) policeman and Reader the (extremely) good one.

I'm sorry for asking so much Rollo 😭😭 it's just that he's so silly!

I love your works sooo much! And also how you draw the M!cast, they're all so pretty!! Love love 🫶

Cw: Jealousy, Marking mentions, gaslighting, Obsession, Rollo torturing Epel at the end

Omg! What a coincidence getting this ask after just writing a jealousy prompt in my inbox 😭

I’ve made it pretty consistent that you’re always referencing Rollo some way in your daily life. So I love making characters hear his name once a week and twitch their eye(s) at his mention. But for the most part, they all do act jealous!

The Pouty/Angry jealous: Riddle, Ace, Ruggie, Floyd, Rook, Epel, Malleus, Sebek, Skully

Whenever you mention Rollo’s name, they’re quick to cross their arms, possibly even give you a stink eye. They’ll ask you what’s so great about this ‘work husband’, he did make you do this alone. If he really cared, he would’ve came with you right? He might’ve cared for you at the foundation, but now he just threw you to the dangers of the world. They would never do that to you… So stop talking about him already.

The Sad jealous: Deuce, Cater, Jack, Azul, Kalim, Rook, Idia, Malleus, Silver, Neige, Fellow, Skully

The moment they see the way your face lights up looking at that star pattern fabric in your hand, they feel something. For some of them, it’s guilt, they can’t give you what he can, so maybe… he’s the better option for you than they are (Deuce, Jack, Silver, Neige, Skully). For others, they’re sad at the feeling of envy in their heart. It’s really not fair… This Rollo, gets to see everything side of you, your happiest, your saddest, your angriest, even your dearest. They want to see it too… Won’t you let them?

The ‘I’m just gonna leave my mark on you too’: Trey, Leona, Floyd, Jade, Jamil, Vil, Rook, Malleus, Lilia, Neige, Chenya

So, he gives you that earring. You won’t take it off. Ok. Easy fix, they’ll do something much more obvious. Whether it’s wrapping you in themselves, drawing a symbol of their soul on you, adorning you in their clothes/feathers, or even simply using their mouths, they’ll be more seen. He hopes if when you return to him, Rollo sees this mark.

Why be jealous when murder is a capability: Malleus

I hope everyone noticed he’s in each section, and he does go through these in the exact same order. Essentially, Rollo’s house sees no mercy, nor does his garden, or himself when he steps foot outside. Lightning… everywhere. Rollo get’s a certain sense of who it’s from, and he has to be physically stopped by Crowley from leaving to find you.

LMAO I love the Good cop bad cop energy Rollo and Reader would have if they went out together. Rollo is essentially the overprotective third wheel who blocks any potential suitors from you.

Anytime you’re nice to them, it’s immediately cancelled out by Rollo doing something devious.

An example:

You: Letting Epel drink your blood for like 2 minutes.

Rollo: Stabs him through the heart with a stake, Throws garlic at him, touches him with a silver fork, leaves him in the sun, places crosses on him, and dumps holy water on him. But places a really worn down bandaid on it because you’d be upset at him. He dgaf abt Epel 💀

Bonus: Rollo and Reader Dynamic

Synopsis: Absolutely smitten with you, and everyone else hates it 💀

[everythingspokenfor]

Mourning

All characters are aged up 18+. MDNI Pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader.

Tonight you intentionally dig your nails into Satoru's back, maybe to claw deep enough to keep him here, on top of you, inside of you, with you.

He giggles, breath-taking, blinding blue fucking eyes, looking down at you, lips quirked up in a smirk. "Wanna mark me yours, baby?"

He is teasing, running a hand up your waist, long fingers wrapping around your neck. He doesn't tighten his grip, aware you already can't breath, won't breath. You are holding your breath, he knows your throat feels tight, that your cheeks are aching, that you are hurting.

He leans down,"Haven't fucked ya' dumb yet, so why are you acting stupid?" He smushes your lips together, sloppily mashing lips, poor attempt at a kiss.

"Mi-mine." You let out a breath, chest finally opening up, the ache travels up behind your eyes and you are going to cry.

And you are crying, Satoru grabs your waist and rolls you both over, it's like a practised act maybe because it's a routine.

"Yours, all yours." He mutters and he means, it's his truth, he is yours, has been yours. It's his truth, you know it too.

And you are sobbing, smearing snot all over his chest, head pressed against his chest, his heartbeat slow and steady.

He is still hard, still inside you, still with you, fingers running through your hairs, drawing shapes on your back, he lets out a breath, moving to pull blankets over the both of you. Maybe for tonight he'll hold you tighter instead.

When you wake up, Satoru is fast asleep, milky white hairs drapped across his forehead, lashes resting on his cheeks, if you could you would spend eternities admiring him.

When he wakes up, he looks over to you, cheeks squished against pillow, lips slightly pouted, eyes still glossy with tears in them. He has to leave, Shibuya needs him, his kids need him, his friends need him, his duty demands him. Gojo Satoru, the honoured one afterall.

Your Satoru, your lover, he gets off the bed, getting dressed, hoping you call for him, pray that he doesn't leave today.

You don't, you don't say anything, silently getting up and helping him, you are demanded somewhere too. Your duties are fair, both see curses, both deal with them too. You pray your fates are fair too, you hope he doesn't get taken from you.

He moves to stand in front of you, lips pressing against your forehead,"I love you, you know." Satoru whispers, lips gliding down, to kiss both your eyelids, then your cheeks, then your chin, then the column of your throat.

"I would appreciate you saying it back, my kikufuku."

"Kiss me first, Satoru." His heart aches, at how you say his name, silently he presses his lips against yours, holding you close. "Love you, Satoru, always." You whisper against his lips, chest a little lighter.

Fate wasn't fair, because here you are standing in the middle of your house, and Satoru rested somewhere six feet deep. He didn't make it home that day, a part of you didn't either, it's buried with him, six feet deep.

You mourn Satoru before he dies, and you mourn him after too.

You drink with Shoko, reminiscing old times, you cry on her shoulder too then you vipe your tears and sniff out a "I am fine now" you think you are before you are back home, and he isn't here, you are all alone. And you cry against sitting against the entry door.

You mourn Satoru again when bedsheets stop smiling like him, when his pillows do too. When all his clothes have been washed or already worn by you. When every surface he touch is eventually cleaned, when you accidentally dropped his mug. When the kikufuku doesn't taste the same.

Some nights you wake up crying because you felt like you had forgotten his voice, forgotten his laughter...

[mythalism]

Watching a video of the "fight Solas" ending and I find myself really disliking the fact that Rook declares that the Veil must be tied to the life of an elven god. It is treated like a fitting punishment for Solas, and even in the redemption ending, Rook all but orders Solas to sacrifice himself to maintain the Veil (or the status quo). I also can't help but feel that Solas, the last of the elven gods, is being sacrificed to maintain the Veil that he, alone, is somehow expected to magically maintain, allowing everyone else to go on their merry way. The implication here is that the elves are losing the last of their history, or pantheon, and this is a GOOD thing, and now we can all move forward and live peacefully. Am I overthinking this? 'Cause if this was the intention it does sound kind of bad.

yeah. i do agree and i dont think you're overthinking. and even if you were, im about to overthink way harder so don't worry. forgive me for getting on my legal philosophy soapbox but thats my whole brand at this point so here we go: it is a very retributive view of punishment and desert (deserved-ness) that i morally disagree with and feels outdated in the political landscape of 2024 to me PERSONALLY!! the foundation of retributive justice is:

(1) that those who commit certain kinds of wrongful acts, paradigmatically serious crimes, morally deserve to suffer a proportionate punishment; (2) that it is intrinsically morally good—good without reference to any other goods that might arise—if some legitimate punisher gives them the punishment they deserve;

obviously this is how much of the western world conceives of punishment and western media is consequently saturated with narratives that espouse this. most of the time, restorative justice is seen as mutually exclusive with retributive justice, though there are some people who say they can be used in tandem. i disagree anyway.

i think solas's endings grapple with these ideas in a way that is... messy. its confusing because we dont actually know if he is truly imprisoned, in the sense that he cannot leave. we know he is in A prison, though its unclear whether its the new regret prison that rook was in, or the black city (epler refused to clarify this during the AMA because of "spoilers", while trick said the implication is he is "going back to the prison", the epilogue slides imply he is in the black/golden city, as does his quest to heal the blight which only exists in the black city). we also do not know what capacity he has to leave. with lavellan or after being "redeemed" by willingly binding himself to the veil, he does not have the lyrium dagger but he does have the capacity to free himself from his regrets (if hes in the regret prison) or heal the blight (if he's in the black city), exemplified by his golden epilogue slides. if he is tricked or fought, he is not in a mental space to overcome his regrets and does not swear to atone by healing the blight, but he does have the lyrium dagger with him, so we can assume he can just use it to leave, the way we literally see him do earlier in the game lol. whatever message they are trying to send with his "punishment", i think it is muddied by the vagueness of what actually happens to him in the end and where he goes.

if the message truly is that he "deserves" to be imprisoned in the fade for his long list of crimes, i find that lazy and nonsensical. first of all, he loves the fade and has been dying to return to it so thats not really a gotcha, but more importantly, which crime warrants this punishment? and is his punishment proportional? this is impossible to answer because we do not know what the punishment truly is. we also dont really even know what crime he's being imprisoned for. taking down the veil? he didnt actually get to do that. are we punishing him for something he didn't do yet? is it for killing varric? sure, i guess that one works. its the strongest of the options we have, but the game is also pretty clear that its not what varric would want. what about all of the other people he has killed? the spirits he sacrifced in that siege on elgar'nans temple? the mages who summoned and corrupted wisdom which he incinerates alive? flemythal and felassan? do they deserve retribution via solas's imprisonment? would they want that? would they find it just and satisfying? the game does not ask these questions. so we dont know. does he deserve to be imprisoned for for what he did to the titans? ok, maybe. this is stronger than the others at least. but in the trick/fight endings he doesnt vow to heal the blight, so what does his imprisonment do for the dwarves and the titans spirits? this is what i mean when i say his imprisonment is retributive, but it is not even thoroughly retributive. it does not think deeply about what solas deserves for his crimes and the proportionality of such a punishment, but it is clear that we are supposed to that he deserves to be in prison, it is morally good that he is receiving "justice", and rook is a hero for imprisoning him. his punishment is presented as a moral good because he deserves it. unfortunately for veilguard, i dont think i would ever be convinced by this message in any narrative anywhere, even if it was better written, because this is not a moral philosophy that i subscribe to.

his redemption endings feel so much better and more satisfying because his vow to use his immortality and knowledge to heal the blight that he created is restorative and has a direct correlation to his crime of creating the blight by tranquilizing the titans in the first place. his imprisonment achieves nothing outside of removing him as a "threat", which is ruined by the fact that he has the dagger and can just leave lol. devoting the next significant portion of his life to alleviating the titans suffering is not just reparative remedy that directly affects the people and creatures he has harmed, it also actively makes the world of thedas a better place. to be clear, im not saying solas is innocent. he is guilty. of a lot of things. he bears responsibility for a lot of things. he would qualify as a war criminal. but i do not believe in retributive justice. veilguard having solas kill varric because trespasser made me sympathize with him "too much" is not going to make me believe in retributive justice. for the non-atonement imprisonment endings to feel satisfying you have to subscribe to this ideology of moral desert and punishment and a lot of people do. the entire american carceral system is founded on it. so is christianity. and bioware clearly subscribes to it as well. you might disagree with me and subscribe to it yourself. thats fine. but i believe it has caused a lot of harm to our world and continues to do so. seeing it manifested in media is always disappointing to me.

regardless of the technicalities of his imprisonment, his binding to the veil is the one thing that happens regardless of his ending, and i agree that it is icky for similar reasons. the veil is his responsibility, as is the blight which he will be keeping contained with his life, so i guess you can interpret it as proportional? but again, what crime is he paying for with binding his life to the veil? is he not paying for a crime at all? is binding his life to the veil even part of his punishment? or is it just something he has to do because he's the only person alive that can do it? if that is the case, that it has to be him because he is the only proper sacrifice, and not that he deserves it, then what does it say about rook that they sacrifice someone undeserving? if he is deserving, why exactly? if he wasn't the only elven god left alive, would he still be deserving of such a fate? if the answer is no, then he does not deserve to be bound. what gives rook the right to make this call? based on the convo they have before the ending where they plan to bind him to the veil, its not clear if rook binds him because they think he deserves to be bound to one of his greatest regrets, or because he's quite literally the only option. either way, i think there is an argument for it being cruel, and unearned coming from someone like rook, who really has barely been a victim of solas's sins outside of a 2 week time-out. literally harding binding him would've been far more satisfying. or imagine if fragment mythal went rogue and did it, or morrigythal did. mythal would not be justified either but at least it would be fucking banger and evil and interesting of her. anyway.

i think your point about what it means for the elves to lose their final living god, outside of mythal who is [redacted] ? is a fantastic point. through solas's binding, they also lose the veil-less future he represented that was promised to be a better world for them. would it really have been? probably not. solas clearly thinks so. but we will never know lol. the failure of the story to grapple with the dissolution of the elves entire belief system is one of its most egregious ones, and i think this is a symptom of it. dragon age's elven lore got itself into a weird spot by veilguard and i think they just abandoned it rather than attempting to write themselves out of it. i love stories that grapple with the average person's culpability as complacent in imperialism. this is part of why fullmetal alchemist is my fav story of all time and you should watch it (fullmetal alchemist:brotherhood on hulu please im begging. but you have to watch the "brotherhood" one not the other one. its complicated dont ask). veilguard seemed to want to do something like this, but they got themselves into weird spot with the elves because their evil, slavery-based empire is a thing of the distant past, and in the present they are systemically oppressed and have no social or political power.

usually in these sorts of stories, someone currently living in an imperialist society who is directly benefiting from that imperialism is confronted with their complacency and asked to rise to the occasion of standing up for what is right, despite their material best interest. they often sacrifice their privilege as a benefactor of imperialism in the present to attempt to make up for the evils that system has inflicted on others. fmab does a wonderful job of this. there is at once both an acknowledgement that no, this is not literally YOUR FAULT, you did not order a genocide or press the nuke button, but you have benefited from it and/or participated every day of your life, whether that is through the stolen land you live on, the fact that you have never seen war in your home country, the way you can buy whatever fruit you want at the grocery store any time of year, or the way your tax dollars fund the bombs being dropped on children thousands of miles away, and you do have a moral obligation to do whatever you can to fight back. i believe this is a very important lesson for the average american (and canadian since we are talking about bioware), and anyone that lives in an imperialist country, that a lot of people have not yet learned ... lol.

this feels along the lines of what veilguard was going for (or maybe they werent and this was accidental, idk which is worse), but it fails because the elves are not currently benefiting from their past empire, like at all. actually, they live in squalor and at risk of constant violence from human empires. they have experienced centuries of genocide, violence and slavery at this point in modern thedas. the imperialistic success of the elvhen empire has absolutely no bearing on their current lives, it provides them with no privilege, and it gives them no culpability in its evils. they are thousands of years removed from it. and its not like "oh the british empire was dissolved 50 years ago so imperialism is over" no. because britain's wealth and power are a direct result of that imperialism, thus they do still benefit from it presently, even if the "official empire" is dissolved. this is true for most empires. but with the elves of thedas, they have none of the power or privilege that the elvhen empire accrued through its evils. if anything, it is tevinter that benefits most from the lost elven empire considering how much of their society is founded on its technology, and the fact that. you know. they are currently, modernly, presently an empire based on slavery. OF ELVES. so why, then, does veilguard present the elves as culpable? why does the angry titan harding creature say they are "thriving" at the titans expense? why does bellara take personal responsibility for the evils that elgar'nan and ghilan'nain commit when she had nothing to do with them? the messaging with this is so strange. it would make sense if elves were still the ruling class but... they're not. the only remnants of the empire that they have access to is their own bodies... which are systemically, bought, sold, and mutilated. though the game does erase much of the racism they face in what i can only assume was an attempt to make this work.

the combo of this + solas's trick/fight endings for what is fundamentally, according to this game itself, a desire for a better world for elves and spirits, no matter if it is misled or his methods are violent, is a depressing, bleak message that i find to be irresponsible to be sending in 2024 and considering the real world groups of people that elves are based on, most notably of the dalish as indigenous north americans. veilguard sees elves lose not just their understanding of their past, dissolving their entire worldview, their conception of their cultural identity, and their relationship to their religion, all without sufficient (or any) exploration of how devastating such a process would be, but by imprisoning solas, erasing his followers and supporters from existence, and binding him to the veil, it also robs them of the possibility of a more just future... while asking you to cheer because he deserved it. dont try to make the world a better place unless you do it the right way. work with the world as it is. your attachment to the past (when you werent being genocided regularly) is a disease. you deserve to go to jail because you tried to change the world in a way that that was too disruptive. get over it! move on! rot in jail!

[befallenstars-archive]

This'll be the first time that I read one of your works, Ze! Hope you don't mind me yapping. It's recently become a small routine/habit of mine🫂

Spoilers and lots of yapping under the cut!

I wanna start off with the tags. My reaction was pretty normal until I read the "(ajax licks) blood and tears". Was I deterred? No, I was invested. Oh, my...all enemies and no lovers??? Tension only??? I just know this'll be good.

Brb, I'll listen to the song first...

Huh, I'd definitely trust your music taste.

The snow falls thick and fast, yet the village continues to burn. Screams and shouts of villagers, mixed with the clashing of metal, rise above the roar of devouring flames of blue.

Okay! We're diving straight into this. Love that actually.

Those who fail to meet the fae’s standards are left alone, shivering and watching in the cold. 

I GOT GOOSEBUMPS.

The way you write scratches my brain just right. Even better that your style of writing genuinely matches the overall dark vibe you're going for. I can literally feel it in my bones.

Gently grabbing your shoulders before shaking you bc I fell in love at first work with your writing. I need to read more of your works, Ze! Omg, why did it take so long before my dash gifted me with it? I should've looked for it myself!

Sorry, just not-so casually a sucker for your writing style.

It is the most luxurious piece of clothing you own; a beautiful dark green cloth lined with fur, decorated by unfinished hand-embroidered leaves and flowers and bunnies—a project you’ve been chipping away at this winter.

I already noticed this with the way you described the horses but there's truly just something about the way you do it. Like I can oh so easily imagine whatever it is you are narrating

I LOVE THE TINY DETAILS

Snowflakes continue to fall, decorating your hair and eyelashes with diamonds, while the shoulders of your cloak become dusted in sugar. 

Is it bad to say that I wanna eat your fics? (affectionately(?))

The snow dances around you and you can’t help but indulge in a spin, cloak sweeping out around you in a swirl of deep green. Your huff of laughter is stolen by the wind, but the delight within you remains.

I think I fell in love—

You have a writing style that gives me fairy tale kind of vibes. Even if it's dark. It would be so fun reading this out loud with theatrics and some drama.

In my head? I'm doing just that. It is so good.

...

All of this is so good that I can't pick one line and yap about.

You know he is fae right away by his unnatural beauty. His hair glimmers a coppery orange under the light of the full moon, all windswept and dusted in snow. His eyes seem to glow as they scan you from head to toe, a blue just a shade darker than that of the flames destroying the village. Ears taper into a fine point and from his left one dangles a deep red crystal that only makes you think of blood. He smiles, then, as you observe him. His canines are sharp and long, like that of a fox, and you are frozen with wide, shining eyes of a bunny.

GODS

WHAT I WOULDN'T GIVE TO HAVE THE ABILITY TO WRITE A SCENE THE WAY YOU DO—

IT'S JUST SO???? I CANT EVEN DO JUSTICE TO DESCRIBE IT. I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE.

You don’t think he’s talking solely about the snow. 

I am so deeply immersed in this fic that I physically swallowed when I read this.

He laughs, throwing his head back as the sound erupts from his throat. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his breath beading in the winter air.

...For the love of— I have thoughts but I shan’t say them out loud for propriety's sake.

He had not intended to take you back to the fae realm, but then you had to go and run.

THAT WAS FOUL

“Ouch,” the fae calls after you. His voice is loud and clear, and you know he’s only getting closer. “Don’t hurt yourself too much trying to escape, okay?”

🙂💢

I dunno, there was something about this that just got on my nerves.

...

It was not in 2025 bingo card to find myself having a tiny crush on this man AGAIN.

What in the sadomasochism...

Nope. No. Bye—

“Are you done?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone. “If not, I can do this all night.”

I just want to be slightly violent. Just a bit.

...and you realize you are at this fae’s mercy, pinned like a prized butterfly in a collection; all pretty and helpless, on display for him to study.

Mnh...yes...I am...slightly dysfunctional.

Sitting in my chair with my back slightly hunched and a hand over my lips as I question myself.

“Try that again, I dare you.” His voice is rough and yet it doesn’t sound like a threat.

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

Zipping my mouth closed.

...the sensation of your nails digging into his abdomen is not one he’ll forget anytime soon.

What if I actually lose it?

Mnh? Ze? Will you take accountability?!

He tastes the lie and grins. “That’s not true now, is it?”

Okay, I am brought by to sanity by the genuine question of what the hell does a lie taste like?

Ajax is enchanted. Has he ever seen a human so beautiful?

And I am back to the edge of my sanity. Lovely.

His groan of delight is overlapped by your whimper, the cut on your cheek stinging as fear flows through your veins.

...slamming my head on the table right now.

What— no, I?? This is...am I really? No...what? Hahaha. That's not...maybe?

Ajax grins, taking in the vision before him. “You’re perfect.”

I'm going insane.

Okay, the note was really cute tho??? I'm sorry but I imagine it in a chibi kind of style where Targtaglia's standing by the door while reader collects their stuff. Maybe doggo will betray the reader by being nice to Tartraglia, who absolutely eats it up when the reader glares at both him and the dog.

EASY ON THE EYES, EASIER TO HATE. tartaglia x reader ✧ 2.7k words

when the fae raid your village to take humans into their realm, you think you’ll be safe in the woods. but you run into a fae who introduces himself as tartaglia and realize it might have been safer for you to stay at home.

tags and warnings ✧  fae!tartaglia, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used), reader sews and tailors clothes for a living, the fae are pretty brutal, mentions of violence, (ajax licks) blood and tears, chasing (predator prey dynamic), manhandling, all enemies and no lovers (only tension oops). note ✧ this is a darker fic compared to most of my writing; please let me know if I need to tag anything else! title inspired by the song "psycho" by taylor acorn. a gift for @cruel-hiraeth for teahouse's secret santa! happy new year, kae! i hope this fic helps you start off the year right by loving hating tartaglia >u< this was lots of fun to write hehe and got a little long because the au ran away from me... i hope you enjoy! love you lots <3

The snow falls thick and fast, yet the village continues to burn. Screams and shouts of villagers, mixed with the clashing of metal, rise above the roar of devouring flames of blue.

The fae are here.

They pull people out of their beds, pushing them into the streets. Turn their faces toward the light of a burning house—looking for the beautiful humans, still young and nimble. Or searching for evidence of skill in the arts; a pretty face matters little if one can produce beautiful things in ways that the fae cannot. Those who fail to meet the fae’s standards are left alone, shivering and watching in the cold. 

The humans the fae deem acceptable meet a much worse fate. They are picked up and thrown in the back of carts, drawn by horses with ears too long and manes too wild, their coats unusually glossy and vibrant. The chosen who try to escape are bound with rope that cruelly digs into skin. Those who try to fight are taken down brutally, then laughed at as they writhe on the ground—though the fae make sure no permanent damage is done, for that would defeat the purpose of the raid.

A fae bearing a torch of blue flames brings it up to the walls of each house of those who have been chosen. The blue catches on the wood unnaturally quickly, spreading with a voracious hunger despite the wind and snow. Within the hour, nothing will remain besides a pile of ash. 

But by then, the fae and the chosen villagers will be long gone.

You are lucky that sleep is so elusive tonight.

Earlier, after tossing and turning in bed for ages, you give up on trying to fall asleep. It is hard to leave your dog who has curled up beside you in a ball of white fluff, but you press a kiss between her ears before changing into some warmer layers. You sweep a thick winter cloak over your shoulders. It is the most luxurious piece of clothing you own; a beautiful dark green cloth lined with fur, decorated by unfinished hand-embroidered leaves and flowers and bunnies—a project you’ve been chipping away at this winter. Putting on boots that have long since been molded to the shape of your feet, you leave your house to catch some fresh air and possibly tire yourself out along the way.

The blanket of pure white is beautiful. The full moon makes everything glitter as snow stretches from the outskirts of the village into the forests beyond. Snowflakes continue to fall, decorating your hair and eyelashes with diamonds, while the shoulders of your cloak become dusted in sugar. 

It is so quiet out here. The whistling of the wind and the thoughts in your head are the only sounds you hear. You are used to this, though. Every day you sew and tailor clothes in the back of the village’s clothing store, often alone for hours on end with nothing but your thoughts for company.

A strong gust of wind rocks you on your feet. Clutching your cloak tighter and tossing the fur-lined hood up over your head, you turn your back on the forest to face the trail of footsteps you’ve made through the snow. You should head home.

Still, you take your time approaching the village. The snow dances around you and you can’t help but indulge in a spin, cloak sweeping out around you in a swirl of deep green. Your huff of laughter is stolen by the wind, but the delight within you remains.

Then the first scream rips through the night.

You freeze. Scanning the houses on the outskirts of the village reveals no dangers.

Another cry follows the first and you know something must be terribly wrong. 

You start running toward the village, kicking up snow as your mind races. Perhaps someone is getting robbed—but no one in town would dare. Or based on the growing amount of cries and shouts, maybe something happened that has injured a lot of people. A fire?

As you make it to the buildings, you see that you are right. Fire engulfs one of the homes on the far side of town, the flames reaching for the sky. A shudder runs through you at the sight, for the flames are unnaturally blue, and though this is the first time you’ve seen such a thing, you have heard of the stories and warnings about the cyan fire and those that accompany it.

You will not let the fae take you.

Whirling around, you sprint for the woods. The screams of the other villagers ring in your ears, but you know it is impossible for you to take on a single fae, let alone an army of them. They are here to steal humans away. For what, you’re not sure, but it can’t be for anything good. Though you doubt they would choose to take you, the best way to make sure you can see the sunrise tomorrow is to hide in the woods and avoid them all.

Reaching the treeline seems to take ages. You keep looking over your shoulder as you run, half expecting to have been spotted, but you only see more and more flames of blue burning houses to the ground.

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of your home being set ablaze—your dog!—but then you remember the fae only burn the houses of the humans they take and relief washes over you.

With your thoughts consumed by the safety of your dog, you don’t notice that you have slowed, trying to catch your breath in the midst of the trees. Nor do you notice that you aren’t alone anymore, until the newcomer starts speaking.

“My, my. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Dread sinks like a stone in your stomach. You spin, eyes wide as they land on the source of those playful and teasing words, leaning against a nearby tree with his arms crossed.

You know he is fae right away by his unnatural beauty. His hair glimmers a coppery orange under the light of the full moon, all windswept and dusted in snow. His eyes seem to glow as they scan you from head to toe, a blue just a shade darker than that of the flames destroying the village. Ears taper into a fine point and from his left one dangles a deep red crystal that only makes you think of blood. He smiles, then, as you observe him. His canines are sharp and long, like that of a fox, and you are frozen with wide, shining eyes of a bunny.

He hums and tilts his head. It is then that you remember he asked a question, and your throat works to find your voice to answer him. “I was out for a stroll,” you manage to say, words somehow steady despite your fluttering pulse.

It’s a half-truth, but half-truths are half-lies, and there’s the slightest hint of bitterness in the back of Ajax’s throat that always accompanies humans’ lies. “Oh, really? And was that before or after we made our presence known?”

“Before, actually,” you tell him honestly. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take a walk. The snow is beautiful and the moon is bright—it’s pretty, is it not?” If you talk enough, maybe he’ll lose interest so you can make a run for it. You don’t know much about fae, but with the way he’s dressed in nicer clothing than what most men in your village wear, surely he won’t care for running through the snowy forest.

He smiles. “It is pretty.” His eyes refuse to leave your frame, and a shiver runs through you. You don’t think he’s talking solely about the snow. 

Pushing off the tree, he takes a few steps forward, nearly silent despite the boots he wears. He stops when you stiffen, clutching your cloak tighter in your hands. “Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Tartaglia,” he says, picking one of his many names to give you. “And you are?”

You press your lips together and force a smile. Even you know not to give the fae your name, no matter how much of a gentleman he is pretending to be. Your stomach rolls, unease making your heart rate pick up again. “I’m-” You see the way he perks up in interest, expecting a name. “I’m leaving,” you spit out, turn on your heels, and run.

Ajax watches you leave, the green of your cloak billowing out behind you like a rabbit’s tail inviting him to chase. He laughs, throwing his head back as the sound erupts from his throat. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his breath beading in the winter air.

He had not intended to take you back to the fae realm, but then you had to go and run. And he wouldn’t dare to let all your hard work go to waste—so he’ll participate in the delightful hunt you’ve set up for him.

The ground is uneven beneath your feet. It is hard to tell where the tree roots are under the thick layer of snow and each breath of air feels like tiny needles stabbing your lungs. But you push on, feet pounding as quickly as you can force yourself to go.

You want to be as far away from that fae as you can get. He had not looked like he was going to chase you when you last saw him, laughing as you ran away, but there was a look in his eyes that pushed you to keep running.

When you toss a quick glance over your shoulder, your breath hitches and terror rushes through you.

He’s there. In the distance, but you can see him, weaving through the trees at an inhuman pace, his long legs carrying him far. He is gaining on you and you fear what he will do when he catches you.

You push yourself to run even harder, but your legs burn and your throat feels tight. In your haste, you fail to see the lower hanging branches of a nearby tree. A cry tears from your lips as a thin branch slices through the skin of your cheek, but you barely feel the pain with your face nearly frozen from the cold.

“Ouch,” the fae calls after you. His voice is loud and clear, and you know he’s only getting closer. “Don’t hurt yourself too much trying to escape, okay?”

Through your huffs for air, you manage to shout back at him. “Piss off! Leave me alone!”

Ajax grins, closing the distance. “I don’t think I will,” he says.

He lunges forward and grabs a fistful of your cloak. You stumble from the pull, tripping over your feet. He uses the momentum to spin you around, pushing you backward until you hit a tree, forcing the air from your lungs. His body presses against yours right after, caging you in with one leg wedged between your own.

“Let go of me!” you shout, slamming your fists into his chest. You try shoving all of your weight into him but he simply presses back harder until his chest is flush against yours. 

He laughs—laughs!—as you struggle against him, kicking and yelling and throwing your weight from side to side. He does not budge at all under the onslaught. You do everything you can, but only wear yourself out, leaning back against the tree to catch your breath.

“Are you done?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone. “If not, I can do this all night.”

His reaction makes your blood boil, most of your fear buried beneath anger. You glare down past his arm that still grips your cloak and catch sight of a sliver of pale skin peeking through the folds of his clothes. Moving your gaze back up to his face, you spit out, “I hope you die.”

And then you dig your nails into the exposed skin of his stomach, sink your teeth into the arm holding onto your cloak, and shove with all your might.

Ajax stumbles backward. 

You rip yourself out of his hold, twist your body to the side, taking one step forward, free-

Arms wrap around your waist and throw you back toward the tree. Your feet catch on his boot, making you lose your balance, perfect for Ajax to maneuver your body as he wills. This time, he pins your hands above your head, one large hand grasping your wrists, while his other arm presses as an immovable bar across your collarbones. One leg forces its way between your own, and you realize you are at this fae’s mercy, pinned like a prized butterfly in a collection; all pretty and helpless, on display for him to study.

You look down. You don’t want to see the anger on his face before he retaliates for your actions.

The arm across your chest shifts and you flinch as gloved fingers grab your chin, firm but not painful as he tilts your head, forcing you to look at him. You’re taken aback by the grin on his face, canines bared and bloodthirsty, but his eyes are amused.

“Try that again, I dare you.” His voice is rough and yet it doesn’t sound like a threat.

Your eyes grow wide. This kind of a creature is not one you will be able to escape, at least not now—unarmed except for your teeth and nails.

Ajax lets go of your chin, pulling back slightly. He’s delighted by the fire within you. When he first saw you, running toward the woods, he simply thought you a pretty coward. But oh you dared to fight back, using what little defenses humans naturally have, and you even broke skin. Though his fae blood allows him to rapidly heal, the sensation of your nails digging into his abdomen is not one he’ll forget anytime soon.

As he looks away from your face to take you all in, now that you’re not struggling to escape, his gaze catches on your cloak. His eyes light up, tracing over the exquisitely stitched leaves and plants of various green threads, mixed occasionally with lively bunnies of soft browns. There’s a rabbit still unfinished, just a cute head and perked ears, awaiting its body to bring it to life. 

“Did you make this?” Ajax asks, thumb brushing over the embroidery.

“No,” you gasp, heart sinking.

He tastes the lie and grins. “That’s not true now, is it?”

It’s over. Now that he knows you are skilled at sewing, he has all the reasons he needs to bring you into his realm. Despair is a heavy weight, mixed with frustration and anger. Tears well in your eyes and slide down the curves of your face. A few droplets spread into the cut on your left cheek, mixing with the beading blood that stains your skin.

Ajax is enchanted. Has he ever seen a human so beautiful?

He can’t stop himself from leaning in even closer until his nose nearly presses against your ear. There’s a moment where you hear him inhale. Then his tongue swipes up your cheek, lapping up tears and blood. His groan of delight is overlapped by your whimper, the cut on your cheek stinging as fear flows through your veins.

His fingers grip your chin again and he turns your head to the other side. Warmth travels up your cheek as he licks your tears, before pulling away with a satisfied smirk on his lips.

As you gasp for breath, he takes in the sight of more tears streaming down your face, shed in mourning for the loss of your life in the human world. Shudders run through you until your tears slow, giving time for your heart to harden. Slowly, you open your eyes to meet his gaze, yours now blazing with fury and hatred.

Ajax grins, taking in the vision before him. “You’re perfect.”

note ✧ ajax makes you point out your home and he gets to dig through your stuff as you collect a few things to take with you. don't worry, doggo gets to come with and is treated very well (fae like animals more than humans, usually).

this is not quite the type of thing i usually write, but i hope it was still an enjoyable read! i'd love to hear what you think c:

[uracutieraka]

When did you get so pretty

Pt. 1 // Pt. 2

Keigo x Younger!f!reader

SMUT!, yearning, dirty talk, needy!hawks

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

synopsis: You've missed Hawks the past few weeks. But you don't know if he's even missed you. Why has he been borderline ignoring you?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The night after the gala, Hawks had to leave early in the morning.

Hero work and what-not.

You weren't unfamiliar with him getting so busy you only see him in passing at the agency, but you were unfamiliar with these past few weeks behaviors.

Hawks had been distant.

Unable to hold eye contact with you, nor a conversation even.

Anytime you tried to talk to him it had seemed he would get a phone call and have to fly off somewhere.

You had grown bored of being alone in your apartment. At your life. Being single.

You had gotten a sweet, sweet taste of what it was like to be in love and now you just couldn't seem to feed your insatiable cravings for it.

You literally had the hawks begging for you.

What are you supposed to do with yourself after a high like that?

Go back to normal? Hell no.

On the other hand, Hawks was your boss, and close friend.

Maybe he regretted it?

He was drunk after all.

Maybe he changed his mind about not caring what people would think.

After all he had a reputation to uphold.

You had been in your room for hours, overthinking every interaction you'd had with him since that night.

A loud buzzing broke you from your thoughts.

You grab your phone off your desk and pick it up.

'Hey' a quick but simple word had your breath caught in your chest.

'Hey' you finally huffed out.

'Can you come to the office? I have some paperwork I need help with,'

you felt kind of disappointed with his mindless nature of the things he says.

'And, I hate to admit it, but I miss you.'

It was like a new life had been breathed into you.

'I missed you too Keigo.'

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

45 minutes go by and you find yourself entering the familiar work place, pushing the top button of the elevator you make your way to the floor with Keigo's office on it.

Finally the elevator stops, and you couldn't be more eager to get off it and go fill out paperwork.

And speak to him.

Pushing open the door youre welcomed by a warm light filling the room, recognizing it as his lamp your eyes scan across the papers strewn across the desktop.

He looks up at you, smiling a bit before he pushes himself out of his seat.

Moving about the room he retrieves the all too familiar seat youve spent more late nights in than youd ever admit to, helping him fill out paperwork, just chatting on your rare and few slow days of work, or waiting around for him until the early morning hours, just to make sure he came back alive and okay.

“Here,” he motions toward the seat. “Sit down. Get comfortable.”

And you do.

He retakes his seat and hands you a few papers. You naturally put your head down and get to work filling them out.

Time seems to slip away on nights like this.

Hours and hours of paperwork work go into running a successful hero agency, and you knew that.

It also meant hours and hours of time you got to spend with the man.

Finally you look up from the papers infront of you, trying to initiate any kind of conversation.

After a second Keigo looks up, locking eyes with you. He takes a breath in and pushes his pile of papers away from him.

He puts his elbows on the desk and dramatically drops his face into his palms, sighing loudly.

Looking up he finally speaks.

“Look, about that night,” he starts but you dont think youre ready to hear what words inevitably are going to leave his mouth, so you cut him off.

“Im sorry if i made you uncomfortable! Or ruined our friendship! I understand that you want to keep things casual!”

He looks at you in shock.

“W-what? I was going to say I really enjoyed it and wanted to know if you did too?”

You now look back at him, your eyes are so wide you look like a scared cat.

“Huh?” You grumble out, embarrassed at your lack of a filter a few seconds before.

“That night? Did you have fun?” He pops a sarcastic brow at you, giving you a devious smile. Now hes just doing this to be a brat.

You take a deep breath in, finally going to speak.

“Yes.,” You say, its quick and embarrassingly needy.

He hums as if hes looking to find the right words.

But before he can you speak again.

“But, why have you been avoiding me?”

Keigo clears his throat and readjusts in his seat, not expecting a serious question.

“I uh,” hes looking anywhere but you. “Ive had some things going on that im not allowed to talk about. And uh, a villian brought your name up so i had to stay away from you for a while but we got him.”

The way he admits to this secret is so shy and awkward. Like he was a small child admitting to eating the last cookie.

You stare at him blankly. Not expecting him to behave like he is.

Youre used to his goofy and weird side, not his shy and embarrassed one.

“Oh.” Is all you manage to say.

“Yeah. Im- look, im uh, really sorry for not saying anything, like not even giving you a hint or anything. I just couldnt risk this guy finding out, or finding you.”

You knew these things would come with being close to him, but normally since you two were so close, it was someone else that would be brought up in threatening manners by villians.

You two were side by side and had been for a few years, so normally villians just targeted both of you.

But now there was a new found since of, pride?

Like youre really so important to the Hawks that if a villian even mentioned you he would do anything he could to protect you, even if it meant hurting your feelings temporarily.

A sly smirk overtook your face and you gave him a familiar but challenging look.

“So, im really that important to you that villians use me as leverage? Ha! Thats a new one!” You swing your legs over the arms of the chair, putting yourself in a bridal position with the piece of furniture.

Hes silent for a moment, processing the sudden 180° in your behavior before giving you a similar look back.

“You are. Y’know, its honestly really annoying.,” he stands from his spot behind his desk and makes his way so hes behind your back. Your neck leans back to look up at him, and hes already looking down at you, hands on his hips.

“You know why its annoying?”

“Why?” Its a meek whisper almost.

He leans down, putting his rough hands on your shoulders for support.

“Because when I had to stay away from you for so long, all I could do was think about you.”

Hes now rubbing his thumbs in circles on the base of your neck.

“Whys that annoying?” You couldnt hide the bit of nervousness in your tone, scared maybe he really didnt like you.

“Because when all i can do is think about you, my mind starts to wonder…” hes running his hand lightly down your shoulder, than your arm, and tracing it back up again to start over.

“Wonder what?” You are now purposefully whispering.

He moves to be infront of the chair normally, grabbing your ankles and pushing them off the arm rest, signaling for you to sit normally.

You move and sit facing him.

He leans down be in front of you.

He’s so close you can see the faint scars you recognize from past fights. Now healed. Its almost symbolic.

The pain and hurt a person goes through can just fade away to seem like it almost never happened.

You find yourself lost in this train of thought, so much so, that you dont even realize youve lifted your hand to cup his cheek. Its almost as if it was a reflex, or maybe a way to prove this was actually happening, who knows.

He leans into your palm and lets out a small sigh, as if maybe hes doing the same as you, trying to figure out if all of this was really happening.

Its interesting, just a few years ago you were some total fan girl and now here you are, in his office in the late hours of the night, with him literally in the palm of your hand.

“Y’know,” he speaks up. “Before a few weeks ago i didnt even notice.”

“What?” Its as if he only said half a thought out loud, which is something he tends to do often.

“That I was actually in love with you.”

You move at the sudden admission of romance.

In love with, you?

Keigo ‘Hawks’ Takami just said hes in love with you.

“You- you- HUH?!” You move so now youre standing up hands waving around in the air.

“Is that not what this is?” Hes now standing as well, a look of hurt is on his face.

“No it is. It definitely is. Im just,” you breath in and now stand straight looking at him. “Im caught off guard is all.”

His face eases for a second before he changes to a quizzical one.

“Im confused.”

“Youre confused?” You ask.

“Yeah, because obviously youve been in love with me since however long because i saw the posters in your room, and we spend almost all our time together, like you even come into the bathroom with me when i shower, and yet i dont know why i didnt know sooner.”

Hes dead serious.

This man is just now figuring that out?

And hes a prohero?

Gods, help us all.

You deadpan at him now, throwing a hand on your hip sassily.

“It took seeing some old posters in my room from like 5 years ago to figure it out?”

Hes now giving you a shocked expression.

“Well its not like you said anything!”

“Out of respect for you! And anyways i should be the confused one! You spent 2, nearly 3 weeks, basically avoiding me, which i now know why, but then you call me to do paperwork and confess your love for me!”

“Well I’m just figuring it out since that night!”

Its an argument, but theres no ill-intent, you know that, he knows that, you guys do this often enough.

“What?”

He now looks embarrassed, a blush is on his face.

“I think that maybe i’ve felt like this for a while but I just didnt realize this is what i felt. Ever since i saw you all done up that night and relaxed, i guess it just clicked? I guess?,” he clears his throat. “Like that ive felt like this for a while.”

“Well ive known how i feel.” You feign arrogance, to lighten the mood.

He chuckles a bit, stepping towards you.

He closes the distance.

Pushing some of your hair behind your ear he whispers to you. “Yeah? And how exactly do you feel?”

You give him a small smile.

“Im definitely in love with you.”

A soft chuckle leaves his mouth, hes so close you can feel it on your skin.

“Good.”

He closes the distance, his lips meeting yours.

Its hungry and desperate.

You feel a primal like desire rising in your belly, reaching up your hands find their way to sit on each side of his face, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

A slight moan leaves his mouth at the sudden movement.

He backs up until you hit his desk.

He leans down grabbing the underside of your thighs, then hoists you up onto the tabletop.

He readjusts to stand between your legs, restinf his forehead on yours he breathes out a few words.

“All that thinking i did, fuck, i need you so bad y/n.”

Hes so desperate for you it makes you weak in the knees.

You chuckle slightly and pull his face back to lock lips with yours again.

After a moment you whisper in his ear.

“Not as badly as i need you keigo.”

He gives you a wide eyed look before you see something in him completely change.

It's as if something in him snapped, he grabbed your face pulling you back in once again, harsher and more hungry.

He pulls you to the edge of the desk, so you and him are flush against each other.

your arms are wrapped around his neck and his hands are on your thighs, he glides them up to rest on your hips.

He grinds against you, slowly, almost like he's making sure it's ok too do it.

You grind back on him, letting him know its ok to do so.

He begins, slow, honey like movements of his hips, and you do the same, matching his pace, rocking forward into him.

Your tongues clash in each others mouths, soft moans leaving the both of you.

You can feel him through his pants, and it's not like you really needed any more proof of how big he was, you had already gotten an idea a few weeks ago before your last heated make out session was interrupted.

He pulls away, breathing hard.

"Can... can I take your clothes off?"

It's shy and sheepish, surprising coming from the man who was so eager and bold just minutes ago.

"Please."

He licks his lips before moving to pull your shirt off.

He then unbuttons your pants, pushing them down to your knees, you make haste to step out of them fully.

Lastly he reaches behind you and unhooks your bra clasps, stepping back slightly he pushes the straps forward, letting the bra slide off your arms and onto the floor.

You're now only left in your underwear.

He looks down, then up, then down, almost like he's taking a mental picture, but it doesn't make you feel any less awkward. You bring your hands up to cover your chest.

He quickly pulls them off and shakes his head 'no'.

He grabs your hand and brings it to his belt clasp, you take this as a hint to undress him.

Doing so you unbuckle his belt, then undo his pants. pushing them down, keigo kicks them off to the side.

You then lift the bottom of his shirt, in a slight way to let him know you want him to be the on to take it off.

He does.

Now you're both In the same predicament you were in at your apartment.

Underwear was the only thing separating you from him.

He walks forward, quickly closing the gap again.

You guys are standing in his office almost completely naked, kissing, he's running his hands all over you, you're doing the same to him, grabbing his biceps and running your hands up and down them.

He lifts you up setting you onto the desk again.

He drops to his knees and pulls your underwear down until they're hanging off one of your ankles.

Pushing your legs apart, He groans burying his face into you.

His tongue circles your clit a few times before he finally locks onto you.

He's eating you out like a man who's been starving for years.

You're moaning and tugging his hair between your fingers, holding the loose strands out of his face.

After a few minutes of this he stops, standing back up he wipes his face.

Leaning down he kisses you again.

You move your hand forward and tug at his waistband on his boxers.

He pulls them off quickly.

You break the kiss to look down and finally see him fully.

It's big, like you predicted.

You reach out and touch it, wrapping your fingers around it, you look back up at him to make sure it's ok you're even doing this.

He kisses you.

You kiss back and begin pumping his length for a moment before scooting forward to the edge of the desk.

You run his tip up and down yourself for a minute, using the wetness as a lube.

You finally line him up to your entrance, rocking your hips forward it pushes in a bit.

He hisses and you moan a bit.

He moves to be closer to you, pushing himself in further and further until he's all the way in.

You both moan when he does.

He's still for a moments so you decide to speak.

"Keigo. Need you to do sum'thin' please." Its breathy and sounds so sweet and pretty coming from your mouth.

"Sorry pretty girl, j'st needed a second."

His voice is strained and gravelly.

He begins moving at a steady pace, not too slow nor too fast.

You throw your head back and moan softly.

Keigo can't believe his eyes.

You are the most gorgeous woman he's ever seen.

You looks so pretty under him too.

He feels like he's being baptized in your beauty.

a sultry and soft call of his name breaks him out of his trance like state.

"Keigo, f-faster."

He picks up the pace and wraps his hands around your thighs, pulling them up around his waist.

you lean back so you're propped up on your elbows.

"F-fuck! Feel s'good Kei."

"A-ah!"

Moans, and cries of the mans name fill up the room.

He stops for a moment, pulling you off the desk before he bends you over and pushes you back over the top of it.

Your feet are on the ground still, but now you're ass up for the man.

He moans loudly before speaking.

"God damn, you're so fucking sexy baby. Gonna make you mine."

You wimper pushing yourself back in a pathetic attempt to get him back inside you.

He takes the hint and pushes himself back in.

He reaches over, wrapping your hair around his hand, pulling back he forces you to arch in a 'c' like shape, your head is on his shoulder, while he's still in you.

He moves his hand to wrap around your throat.

He kisses your jaw as he begins moving his hips.

Slowly at first, but then his hand gets slightly tighter around your throat and he suddenly begins thrusting faster and faster.

you move to drop your hands on the desktop.

His arm extends with your movements, as his had that was on your throat now makes its way back into your hair, yet again. He's still thrusting in and out of you hard.

He continues the same pace for a moment before yet again pulling out of you.

He guides you towards the large window in his office. It overlooks the city down below.

"What- What are you doing."

"Gonna show everyone what's mine."

You go to speak again but before you can, he pushes back into you. Simultaneously pushing you against the window. He has your cheat pushed against the cold glass.

You know from this height nobody could actually see you without binoculars.

But the thrill of getting caught like this made it all the more alluring to you.

He is moving a a fast pace again.

Slapping and squelching is ringing in your ears.

He's moaning loudly, as his strokes are getting sloppier and sloppier.

"Im- Im gonna cum."

"D-do it.," you reach under you to touch yourself while he's pumping in and out of you. "M'gonna- cum too, fuck kei!"

"Good- good job baby, a-ah! Fuck cum- cum for me." he's breathless and his words are broken up through choked moans.

"M' summing!" you chant out.

He pulls out of you, pumping himself briefly before moaning your name loudly followed by a "Me too baby!"

He slowly stops pumping himself and his breathing gets heavier.

You stand up, on shaky legs and turn to face him.

Your eyes scan over the office, clothes are every where, papers scattered on the floor.

You look down, a huge stain on his carpet from the messes you two had just made.

You wrap your arms around your chest and move away from the window.

"So, uhm, this is a huge mess."

He now looks around the room.

"Yeah..."

"Well I guess we better get cleaned up!"

He stares at you blankly for a moment.

You speak up.

"Then maybe you'd want to come over? And stay the night at my place? Maybe we could shower?" A devious grin spreads on your face and you wiggle your eyebrows at him.

A similar grin fills his face too.

"I mean, if that's an invite, who am I to turn it down?"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Omg y'all sorry it took me so long to do this second part!

taglist

@asteruuu

@ava-cjkk

@gotacoinslot

[kaliforniahigh]

So, I found some stuff I posted a while ago, but deleted by accident (who remembers when I deleted literally a month of posts by accident? LOL). This is one of them.

So, this is a repost from July 18th, 2024 :)

Imagine you getting home from work, it's nighttime already because you had to work overtime to fix something someone else screwed up.

You're so tired you literally don't even remember the drive home. You leave your shoes by the door and hang your coat. As you go up the stairs, you can hear Noah in the bedroom, complaining that someone shot his character. You guess he's probably gaming with the guys.

You slowly open the door a little more as to not startle him. He turns his head to look at you, and you walk over to him and squeeze his shoulder, leaning down for him to cradle one side of your head and give you a soft kiss on your lips.

He watches you from the corner of his eyes, as you go to the closet and pick up one of his sweatshirts and sweatpants that you have to draw the strings really tight for it not to fall.

It is not uncommon for you to wear his clothes, but he can tell you had a long day, and being engulfed in his smell always makes you feel better. He has butterflies in his stomach when he thinks about that.

You leave the room to take a warm and rather long shower, letting the water cascade down your back and wash away the stress of the day.

Noah would give anything to be in there with you, he would wash your hair, give your shoulders a good massage, but he knows you need a moment alone to decompress and gather your thoughts from the day.

When you come back, all fresh and warm and smelling of his body wash, he can't hold himself back from making grabby hands at you, scooting his chair away from the desk, and you accept his invitation immediately.

You straddle his hips, leaning your head on his chest, resting your hands on his sides, and he feels you letting out a big breath of relief when you feel his hands going up and down your back, travelling up to scratch your scalp. He hugs you and gives you a thight squeeze, and it is as if you never felt such relief in your life.

After a few minutes, his hands go back to his controller, but he leans his head down from time to time to give you a kiss to the crown of your head. Or to smooth his thumb over your cheekbone in-between rounds on his game.

Ultimately, you feel your eyes getting tired, your body relaxing more and more into his.

"Sleep baby, I'll be here to hold you", he whispers to you, and you let your eyes shut, finally feeling at peace for the first time today.

Tag list: @concreteangel92 @foliosgirl @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @stardustsirenmelody @miwomens @concretejunglefm @fadingangelwisp @prettygirlrock126 @dontwantthemoney @tosoundlessdarkistare @babygirlchuuya @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @lacy1986 @romanreigns-supreme @xmads-omensx @missduffsblog @rumoured-whispers @thisbicc @badomensgoodomens @floatingkiwi @collective-heartbreak @dontwantthemoney @dream-machine-love @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @amelia-acero @kenjipepsi1 @montgomery-929496 @daddy-dierkes-girlie @stardustsirenmelody @cheyyyyr @triedbimsoblu333 @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @noyaisasimp @youlookforultraviolet @w0manof-flesh44 @chaoticwineaunt @geminigirlfromfinland @zozaline @deardelirium @ferduttini @turn-your-life-into-folklore @butterflyeffect07 @dominuslunae @shelbyrlxoxo @super-btstrash-posts @shayzillaaaa @kaylacosmic @wordskeeper @enemiestolovershoe @chicken-tender-slut

[leighsartworks216]

hi :) if you are feeling it, for the showing comfort prompts, would you be up for writing one the below ones for zayne? ♡♡

soothing them back to sleep after a nightmare

holding them tightly, protectively

Just A Bad Dream

Zayne x gn!Reader

Thank you so much for sending these in!! This was so fun to write honestly <333

Prompts from this list

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, nightmares, cuddling, literal sleeping together, forehead kisses

Word Count: 611

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Zayne startles awake. His whole body is tense, eyes wide open to stare at the ceiling. His heartbeat pounds heavy in his ears. His lungs don't seem to work for a while, long enough he feels like he's suffocating.

"...ne? Honey...?" A hand rubs his chest. He jumps, attention snapping to the source. You frown at him, eyes still squinted with sleep and pillow lines on your face. "What happened? What's wrong?"

You're patient. He's grateful for it. He stares at you for too long, but you don't say anything. You just keep rubbing soothing circles into his chest, over his racing heart. It takes a moment for him to fully believe you're here, that you're real. He half-expects black crystals to take over your body.

He shakes his head to dislodge the thought and turns his head away. He grabs your hand to hold it. "Just a nightmare," he murmurs. "I'm sorry I woke you."

You scoot closer to rest your cheek on his arm. "Hey, don't apologize. It's okay."

Zayne's nightmares aren't anything new. You've caught him sleeping many times with a frown and eyes flickering rapidly under his eyelids. He never talks about them. No matter how curious you are to know, you don't push. You can't bear the pained look that crosses his face when you do.

You pull away. He's torn from his daze to watch, some hint of that fear that you'll disappear lingering enough to strike through his heart like an icicle. You smile reassuringly at him as you settle into your pillow and open up your arms. "Come here."

He blinks dumbly at you. "What?"

"Come here. I'll protect you from your nightmares."

"That's-"

You put a finger over his lips, silencing his argument. "You need your sleep for tomorrow. I'll keep your nightmares away so you can get plenty of rest before you have to get up and get ready."

He huffs a soft laugh, composed of both disbelief and amusement. But you aren't going to back down from this, so what choice does he have?

He moves across the bed to fit into your arms. His arms wrap around your midsection to hold you close. You tangle your legs with his and hug him around his shoulders. His head finds a safe home on your chest. He can hear your heartbeat clearly. It beats strongly, with no strong signs of faltering.

You comb your fingers through his hair. It's slightly messy from where he moved around in his sleep, and damp by his forehead and neck from a cold sweat. Your nails scratch gently at his scalp. "Comfy?"

He nuzzles further into your chest. "Mhm..."

"Good. Now I can effectively protect you." You push back his bangs and press your lips to his forehead. "You hear that, you evil things? This brain is protected, so you better leave him alone!"

He laughs. It's so stupid, so silly, but it's exactly what he needs for the last remaining tension in his body to dissipate. "I think they heard you, my love." He leaves a kiss over your heart. "Thank you."

You kiss him again. "No need to thank me, just get some sleep now."

Zayne stays awake a while longer. Just listening. Soaking in your effortless comfort. Slowly, your hands stop playing with his hair. Your breaths even out, turning into soft snores that rumble in your chest. Your heart continues to beat on, with no end in sight.

For once, he doesn't dream of a world where you don't exist, where he's a serial killer, and where he's all alone. It's the best sleep he’s had in a long, long time.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko

[bktempted]

Attention whore. Your outfit - a crop top cut a little too low, a short skirt cut a little too high. Still, you played the part of the sweet, innocent girl perfectly. Batting your lashes and smiling shyly whenever a man's gaze lingered on your exposed body a little too long.

You loved the power it gave you, the way you could make grown men stumble over themselves with just a look. It was thrilling to imagine them touching you, fucking you, as you pranced around acting all naive.

Little did you know, I was watching you too, seething with jealousy. I saw the way those strangers looked at you, the way their eyes devoured your body. But I stayed silent, biding my time until we were alone together again.

Later that evening, you found yourself pinned against the bedroom wall, your wrists bound above your head. My eyes blazed with anger as I ripped off your skimpy clothes, leaving you bare and vulnerable.

"Do you have any idea how many men wanted to fuck you today?" I growled, grinding my rock-hard cock against your thigh. "How angry I was knowing they were all thinking about bending you over and pounding into this tight little cunt?"

I forced your legs apart, spreading you wide as I loomed over you. "You're nothing but a filthy tease, aren't you? For them anyway, but for me…”

My fingers delved between your slick folds, rubbing your swollen clit cruelly. "So wet already, you love having all those men drooling over you, don't you? They wish they could do this."

I slipped two fingers inside your dripping pussy, curling them just right to hit that sensitive spot deep within. "Moan for me, slut. Let me hear how much you enjoy being a cock-hungry whore."

Tears streamed down your face as I finger-fucked you mercilessly, edging you right to the brink before pulling away. "Please, I'm sorry!" you sobbed, bucking your hips desperately against my hand. "I promise I won't do it again!"

I just laughed, spitting on your puffy, needy cunt. "Oh, I bet you will. You crave the attention, the filthy looks from those perverts. You're addicted to being treated like a cheap whore."

I pushed three fingers inside you this time, pounding into your sopping wet hole as my thumb rubbed firm circles on your throbbing clit. "Go ahead, cum for me. Cum like the desperate slut you are."

You screamed as I finally let you find release, your pussy clamping down hard on my fingers as you shook and spasmed with pleasure.

But I wasn't done with you yet. I pulled my fingers out, bringing them to my lips and sucking your juices off slowly. "I think I need a better taste."

I hauled you over to the bed, bending you over and spreading your ass wide. My thick cock pressed against your entrance, the swollen head nudging your sensitive folds.

"Beg for it," I commanded, giving your pussy a harsh slap that echoed through the room. "Beg Daddy to split your slutty little cunt open on his fat cock."

You whimpered and pleaded, “Fuck me! Fuck me, please! I promise I’ll be good! Fuck my until I’m good!” babbling in a lust filled haze.

With a vicious thrust, I buried myself balls deep inside you, groaning at how tight and warm you felt. I set a brutal pace, pounding into you relentlessly as you bounced on my cock. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room.

I reached around to roughly palm your tits, tweaking your nipples between my fingers. "Who do you belong to, slut? Who's the only one allowed to use your dirty holes?"

"You Daddy, only you!" you cried out, your pussy clenching around my shaft.

Knowing you were mine, I fucked you with renewed vigor, determined to ruin you for anyone else. Your moans grew louder, more desperate, until finally I felt your cunt clamp down around me.

I bottomed out in you one last time, emptying my cum deep inside your spasming hole. I collapsed on top of you, both of us panting hard.

But even then, I knew it was only a matter of time before you slipped back into that tiny skirt and paraded yourself around town again. After all, being punished by Daddy was what this was all for.

[writingwisterias]

How would the different eras of leon comfort a reader who had a bad childhood/ still dealing with abusive parents? For material, theres lotta nightmares about parents, hallucinating, and anxiety symptoms

-🪻

Hi 🪻!

I would love to do this for you! I hope you enjoy and have a good day!! 💕 I rambled a lot with this one as well, just healing myself along the way

Warnings: Nightmares, Childhood Trauma, Comfort, Fluff, PTSD, Mentions of abuse

Gn!Reader

RE2:

He has the most experience with nightmares, he would have them to after everything

I'm thinking of a Leon between RE2 -RE4R

So because he has his own he would have a way to calm down quickly without waking you up. That is until he notices you suffer from them to.

His nightmares make him a light sleeper so I think he would notice something wrong very quickly and immediately pull you into his arms to wake you up.

Depending if it's a night terror or just a nightmare he would wake you up slowly, kisses, soft talking etc

If it's a night terror he would want you to be awake as quickly as he can. So he's shaking you or whatever.

If he knows about what happened in your childhood say for example abuse from parents, he would keep his touch firm but caring if he's waking you up from a night terror.

He'd prefer if you would be open about what the dream was about and your history so he can help you in the best way he can without further causing issues.

Also wouldn't care if you need plushies to sleep, he'd rather have the whole bed covered in them if it would help you sleep. (Really like squishmellows or any Kenji plush)

RE4R:

I like to think this Leon is probably the quietest. Like he's a simple guy and would have music in the background of his apartment at low volumes etc

So you find a lot of comfort here, if you still lived at home with your parents he would let you use his apartment even if he was away on mission

He wouldn't even talk to you either if you didn't want it, he's happy to just have you in his space.

If he's not around and you use his place, he'll make sure to leave a hoodie/shirt for you to use and he doesn't care if you use his bed

He's also happy to do whatever you want to do, so if you do want to talk and chill then he's more than happy to do that.

His chilled out attitude is just great if your household is chaotic and loud, it's a mini escape.

Infinite Darkness:

With this era of Leon I think he would be really good at either preventing anxiety attacks or helping you out of them.

I mean look at how he comforts Patrick at the start of the show, it's such a small interaction but he stays for like an extra few seconds to ensure he's okay because he spots that he's not

He's like a quite observer

So if your anxiety is based on childhood issues like maybe expectations that your parents have placed on you whenever they mean to or not.

He would be very quick to spot any signs of you becoming uncomfortable

Let's face it he's probably already watching you anyway because he always does but he's the type of person to acknowledge the signs that you are doing to have a panic attack

Leon is also not the type of guy to make it a big deal either, like I said with Patrick is a small conversation that no one else really sees or pays attention to so hes not going to bring attention to you at all

It could be a small touch or hand hold. Maybe even creating an excuse to leave

If you are in private I think he would talk to you to distract you from it, or just sit there in silence if you wanted to walk through it alone.

Damnation:

I think he gives the best hugs and has a really protective nature

Again let's say it's something to do with passive aggressive parents I don't think he would hesitate to jump in and defend you

If he found out that it was perhaps more physical abuse than mental he's not letting you near them at all

He would understand if you didn't want to cut them off like he's not going to force you to do that

But he would be silently mad and very watchful when you do interact with them

He's also mindful of how he interacts around you.

Especially with his drinking habits if that's something that makes you feel uncomfortable

RE6:

Following along with the protective nature I think he would amplify this

Like he's not letting anyone near you during an anxiety/any type of episode

I also think he's a great listener so if you do need someone to talk to he's your man

He would offer advice if you need it, he has a lot on how he deals with things and will try his best to not let you follow in his footsteps.

Again with his home being a safe space I think he would actively make sure it is one for you instead of himself

Like say you go out shopping and spot a blanket or something you like he would buy it and keep it at his place

Your parents didn't let you have this toy dw he's got it

He has a lot of money that if you came from a poorer background and are conscious about your own money he will spend it for you

You cannot mention you want anything around him because he'll find it and get it

Vendetta:

Considering in the film Chris mentions that Leon is drinking early in the day I think he would drink that early to either forget a nightmare or get an early start to being able to sleep

So I would think him helping you through your own nightmares would draw him away from this behavior

Both of you working together to create an environment that helps you both sleep is how you would do it

By this I mean,maybe you need nightlights so you would find one that works for the both of you. Same with bedding or the general layout of the room

I think he would prefer to be the bigger spoon, since a lot of Leon's trauma comes from failure to protect people it would make him think he's doing a good job.

I would also say that he would prefer it if the bed was as far away from the door/window as possible and against a wall so you can be tucked away from danger behind him

But if you do have a nightmare and wake him up, he's not going to be mad. He'll talk to you about it if you need that and will help soothe you back to sleep

Not only because he knows you'll return the favor but because it actually helps him

Like maybe he runs his hands through your hair it's almost soothing for him doing the same motion over and over again

Death Island:

Much like infinite darkness I think he's going to be the quiet observing type so if you do space out or start of have anxiety he'll spot it

He's still wouldn't make a scene but would prefer to remove you from the situation entirely with or without an excuse

He doesn't care what your parents think they are assholes anyway for treating you like that

In the same scenario he has an idea of how he would be a parent so I don't think he would baby you but almost apply some of the methods to actually help you out in terms of feeling the right love

I also think he would just generally heal you in any toxic relationship you've had by just showing you the opposite whenever he's doing it on purpose or not

He would make sure he's not overstepping any lines in your healing journey and would want you to take the reigns but if you need to hand them over to him he's okay with that

He'll be your brick wall in whatever you need him

Can't sleep? He's staying up with you and even after you fall asleep don't worry

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I've been rereading I Hate The New Hero over and over. I love it so much! But while I was reading chapter three again and an idea hit me.

What if, on his way over to the toy chest, Tim's foot caught on a floor board?

He's able to immediately recognize that this floor board looks as if it's been pulled up multiple times due to some wearing down along the edges. He thinks he's just found some super secret area where you keep something you don't want anyone to find. So he lifts the board.

And immediately sets the board back in place again, gently because he's having a dissociative panic attack. Tim goes to leave, gets confronted by reader's father, and gets shocked out of his episode when he calls you a slut.

Tim is grabbing this man's hand and twisting the guy into a police hold and pressing, pressing, pressing til the guy is on his knees, then with his forehead to the floor. The reason he doesn't just slam the man down is because it could wake you up. With as little noise as possible, the father is on the floor with both arms behind his back practically licking the dirty boards beneath them.

And Tim whispers -no hisses!- into the quiet of this tiny apartment.

"If I ever see, or hear, about you calling her that ever again, Gotham will keep finding your body. I'll even start with those rotten fingers you use to communicate. Do you understand me?"

The man was chocking on shock.

Tim wanted a fucking answer.

"I said, Do. You. Under. Stand. Me." Tim punctuated the sentence with violent shaking of this man.

Reader's father nods frantically.

Tim let's him go. Takes a step back. His chest is heaving in rage. How dare this low life talk about you like this?

(How hypocritical of him, Tim vaguely criticizes himself. After all, he would have probably joined in on mocking you, or just walked out the door, if he hadn't seen what was under the loose floor board.)

Tim is still seething.

"I understand why your throat was cut. You must have made enough enemies yapping lies as if they were true. It makes me sick to leave you with even one of your digits. Let alone, all of them. But [Name] would get stressed or cry if I hurt her family. So, until I can convince her to leave this hell hole, you will not sign or glare at her. Even once. And don't tell her about this. At all. I still need to get a room ready, and I can't have you spoil her surprise."

Tim knows he has JJ's smile right now. His manic eyes boring into the man. Who was trying to prop himself up or curl into a ball; Tim couldn't tell which. All that really mattered was the man was looking at him. Tim's body was jittering from holding back laughter.

Aranea's suit was the most damning thing he could probably find. Tim had to mull over whether to believe you were the hero he viewed as a sister, or if you were someone else entirely.

Of course, Tim hates the thought he treated his sister so awfully. But! There's the chance you're not her! Maybe you're her friend?

Oh! You have a scholarship for engineering. You make Aranea's tech.

Well, if that's the case, he can see about getting you away from here so you're able to make better gear. Which explains Aranea backing out of patrol tonight! If [Name] isn't there to be her person in the chair, Aranea probably didn't feel comfortable going out.

You're probably Aranea's friend on top of that. She may even think of you as a sister! After all, she probably trusts you with her identity so you could make the custom suit. And all her tech.

Which also means that all your supposed hate was just a way to disguise the fact that you know her.

Of course.

No one could actually hate the spider hero, she's too sweet.

So you're behavior was you trying to protect her.

Tim is manic with joy at being one step closer to getting to know his sister. If that means becoming friends with you, it won't be hard.

He forgets to tell Bruce.

Tim greets the reader warmly the next day, saying about how she's not so bad once he ignored her being mean about Aranea. He then makes a comment calling the reader a Tsudere.

Bruce still threatens the reader and Tim freaks out about her skipping school to help Aranea with a day patrol. He then finds out what Bruce and Damian did and spams them to apologize.

Holy shit, Aranea is probably pissed at the Wayne's now! First with Tim being hostile, then Bruce and Damian. They were picking on her tech engineer and Aranea had to go release steam from being so angry.

Him just furiously texting, explaining that he found out reader was the creator behind Aranea's tech and the hater behavior was to protect her identity.

But he's only texting them, not the group chat. So no one else knows. Jason goes to give the letter letting go her mother and Dick still pours ice water on her. Which Tim, Bruce, and Damian find out through the chat. And promptly lose it.

(Excuse me, I'm very out of it right now but still wanted to send this to you. Have a lovely day!)

I love this!! It's been in my inbox for a while and I keep reading over it and forgetting to respond 💔

When Y/N wakes up she'll be in for a shock, her dad is avoiding her??? The stuff in her floorboard is slightly skewed??? Oh... Lucky her.

Tim greets her warmly and acts oblivious? She's holding back her punch right now, the nerve he has.

Then, she slowly realizes, Tim isn't treating her like he does Aranea, something's different. Surely he can't be that dense, right?

I think eventually Y/N confronts him on it, asking him what he thinks the connection between her and Aranea is. When he answers Y/N's shoulders literally drop.

Tech.. Engineer..? That could work, she guesses. But, she doubts the theory will last for long - she can't be in two places at once.

[b3ach-bunn7]

MORE DAD! TOUYA PLEASEEE I BEGG 🙏🛐 The fic you just posted was so so cuteast one in reading before going to sleep and it's all I can think abt<33

ISN'T SHE LOVELY

Touya's home alone with your daughter and they're baking cookies

noquirk!au, domestic, soso fluffy

same storyline as this fic but u don't need to read it to read this!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Touya winces as tiny fingers tug at his white hair. He’s slumped against the edge of Zuki’s bed, back bent at an odd angle so his head is low enough for her to reach. Touya thinks she thinks she’s braiding it, but all she’s succeeded in doing is tangling little hair bands and clips in it. In all honesty his body is hurting from the position he’s in, and he’s kind of hungry, but the little giggles coming from above him are squeezing at his heart so badly he’d die here if she asked him to. 

Touya didn’t think he’d ever be a father. He didn’t even think he’d have a relationship that would last long enough for him to even consider children. Touya hooked up with people occasionally, he took girls out to bars. But nothing lasted, nothing until you. You’d been the one to ask him out after countless days of flirting with you in front of the coffee shop counter at your work. You both went to the same university, and one thing led to another, and you were dating, and then you met his family, and then he proposed five years later.

And the day you told Touya you were pregnant? It might’ve been the happiest and most terrifying day of his life. He could see it in your eyes, eyes that knew him too well, the nervousness at how he’d react. And if he’d started crying, that was business between you three and nobody else.

Touya knew his father and he knew the childhood he and his siblings had suffered through. So yes, of course he was terrified. Him? Of all the Todorokis he’s sure he's the least fit for fatherhood. All he could think about was what horrible traits did he pick up from his father? And it kept him up at night, and you let Touya ramble to his heart's content about all his worries, in the middle of the night with your hand holding his. And you reassured him every time that this is how parenting works. Nobody knows how to do it and they’d learn together. It didn’t do much to quell his fears, though.

And then Mitzuki popped out, bright red and screaming his eardrums off, and he fell in love. And when she blinked up at him, with eyes that rivalled his own with how deep and bright their blue was, he cried. Again. And Touya decided when it came to his daughter, he’d learn how to be good at anything.

Except for a hairdresser's customer. Touya winces as Zuki tugs especially hard, and he grabs her two hands in one of his own. 

“Alright, sweetheart. That’s enough.” He says softly.

Her face falls in a pout as he lifts her up, and he nearly relents. But his scalp is hurting and he is sure her baby brain will be distracted by something different soon enough. He lifts her up behind his head, and she giggles, the sound enough to tug a smile onto his face. 

It was your first week off of maternity leave, and your worry at leaving Mitzuki had gone, now distracted with getting back into work. He’d been quite terrified the first day, but he had the hang of it now. Enough.

She babbles incoherently and Touya hums a song he can't remember the name of underneath his breath. He walks them into the kitchen, grabbing a juice box for Zuki and a coke can for him. He glances at their reflection in the shiny door of the fridge, and she looks so much like him. You hadn’t been happy she’d taken his eyes and the weird gene his family harboured that produced bone white hair, but he wasn’t complaining. It was like a mini him. The next ones could look like you.

He drags over the baby chair and sits her down. He pops the straw into the juice box and slides it over to her.

“Alright, Zuki. Your mother says we need to make…”

Touya huffs and squints at the paper in his hand. Of course you’ve printed the recipe in the smallest font possible. He sighs, fumbling around the kitchen for his glasses. He can never keep track of them, and he refuses to wear contacts because ew. Zuki squeezes the juice box, apple juice spurting out the straw and Touya tuts.

“Careful, sweetheart. I don’t wanna bathe you until later.” He says, wiping her cheek with his finger.

God. He’s so sappy with her it makes him cringe. If a fifteen year old, black-haired Touya could see him now.

He finally finds his glasses, pushing them into his face. They’re thin frames you’d bought him for his birthday and you insisted daily that they suit him. He thinks he looks like a nerd with them on, and you tell him that’s what you like about them the most.

“Alright. We’re making snickerdoodles. You ever made snickerdoodles?” Touya glances at Zuki. She throws her straw on the floor.

“Me neither. But your mother is counting on us.”

It seems simple enough. He’s watched you bake before. It can’t be that hard.

“Okay, Zuki. You can be my sous chef.” He picks her up and places her in the middle of the counter, dropping a bowl in her lap. 

Touya grabs a block of butter and sugar. He measures them out, dragging the bowl to the front of the table. He drops the butter in the bowl and Zuki immediately reaches in and grabs it. 

“Fuck- Zuki, drop it.” He grabs her hand, cursing underneath his breath at the iron grip she has on it.

They tussle for a second before he manages to make her let it go, not before half of it is squished between his hands.

“Jesus, why are you so strong?” He mumbles, wiping her hands with a tissue.

Maybe leaving her so close to the bowl wasn’t the best plan. He’ll keep a closer eye. Everything is fine. It’s a workout and a half ‘beating sugar and butter’ together. Whatever the hell that means. He grabs two eggs from the fridge, and Zuki shuffles over.

“Okay. Very carefully.” He sits Zuki in front of him. “Here, hold it with me. And. Tap it against the side of the bowl and. Done.”  

Touya is careful to make sure she doesn’t try to grab the raw eggs. The last thing he needs is to give his daughter salmonella. They crack the other one successfully and Touya quickly mixes it together before she can get her hands on it.

“Okay. Now I need. Vanilla extract. Where the hell is the vanilla extract?” He mutters to himself.

And, of course, in the one second that Touya is shuffling through a cupboard, he feels the hit of batter on his shirt before he hears Zuki’s giggle. When he turns the whisk is in her hand, and Touya winces at the sight of batter splattered against the wall behind him

“Zuki, come on. We’re a team here. My sous chef can’t coat me in fucking batter.” He sighs, tweaking her on the nose. 

He grabs the whisk out of her hand, and puts it to the side. He also slides the bowl away from her because he’s had enough casualties as is. There’s an apron hung up behind the kitchen door. It’s pink and frilly and Touya huffs. Unfortunately, it’s his only protection from his overager assistant

“Does pink suit me? I think it does.” He chucks the apron on.

Touya finally finds the vanilla extract, and the flour. He has to stop Zuki from drinking saidextract as he tries to pour it in the bowl, her little fingers reaching for the bottle. 

“Enough, Zuki.” He pushes her hands away gently. 

God, Touya doesn’t know how you do it. He gets Zuki after she’s been showered and calmed down, the hours before her bedtime where it takes seconds for her to knock out on his chest or easily play with him however she sees fit. But you, with her early morning tears and the feeding (which is very messy by the way), you’re there for the harder things. He admires you for it even more when Zuki decides that the whisk would be better in her mouth than on the table.

Touya decides to hold her on his hip, which is much harder than you make it look, as he measures the flour with his other hand. He’s careful not to drip it on the table too much. He doesn’t think he has it in him to clean anything else.

“Perfect. Three hundred grams seems like a lot, but I’m no baker. Isn’t that right, sous chef?” Zuki squeals as he dusts flour on her nose.

“Okay. And now, we just add this, carefully, and mix.” He clicks the button on the stand mixer and lifts Zuki up, until her feet rest on his face.

“Beautiful girl. So helpful.” He says, kissing her stomach and putting her back on the table.

He sighs. “Now I need to wash up. Shame you can’t help. Wait, don’t touch that-“

And for a baby she has such speed, because Touya can’t reach forward to stop her before she’s leaned across the table and turned up the dial on the mixer. A puff of flour instantly explodes into the air, but mainly all over his face and chest. God bless the apron after all.

Touya’s eyes shut, defeated. He clicks the mixer off.

“Mitzuki. Our snickerdoodles.” He groans.

Zuki fiddles her fingers through the flour dusting the table. God, with a face like that, how can Touya be mad?  

It takes thirty minutes, with Zuki a safe distance away in the high chair, for Touya to clean up the kitchen and fix the cookie dough. He wraps it up in clingfilm and all but throws it into the fridge. He’s sure there’s going to be something wrong with the taste. But these are for his family, so he can’t say he cares too much.

It’s just as he shuts the fridge that the door clicks open and Touya looks up, the relief evident in your face as you walk through. Your voice rings out as you greet them both, and Zuki squeals in his arms at the sight of you walking into the kitchen. You look tired, your movements slow as you drop your bag on the floor and take off your coat. But despite that, you immediately reach for Ziku, then reach up to kiss Touya.

“Hello, my babies.” You coo, kissing her all over her face. 

Touya just watches, face softening as you turn to him. You look at Touya properly then, and it takes all of two seconds before you start laughing. Touya rolls his eyes as you tug at the apron, flour falling onto the floor.

“Oh, my beautiful housewife. How are the cookies?” Touya scowls as you fuss over him, a teasing smile gracing your lips.

“In the fridge. Chilling. Did you know Zuki loves to eat? And just- just grab everything in front of her? Constantly?” He says and you pat his arm, the other holding Zuki on your hip.

“Yes. Trust me.” 

You reach forward and cup his face, fingers tapping the side of his glasses. “You look so cute with these on.” 

“I look like a nerd.”

You nod, kissing his cheek. “I know. I love it.”

Touya’s hand reaches up and covers yours, dusting it with flour. “I could wear them more often.”

“Goodness. What a beg for attention.”

“Oh, fuck off.” 

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gosh this took me so long to write but.... guys i watched we live in time and i yearn for motherhood and a husband so badly it may kill me

is dad touya probably the most far fetched headcanon ever? yes,, this man would never have kids i fim being fr but.. IDC! its called fanFICTION for a reason...

i also forgot to tag my last fic and it did so horribly so guys plz check it out!

anyways i hope u enjoy this because i very much did <3