rayormay

[rayormay]

How to take your girlfriends surname-- a guide by Keigo (l/n)

I think when it all comes down to it, Keigo would definitely want to take your last name.

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It still feels weird— a good weird, that he even has someone who he is considering to marry. He feels giddy thinking about you like a teenager he never got to be. When he was a kid, he accepted his living circumstances would not get better. His parents and the house he was raised in was broken, the commission simply twisting his trauma and messing up his story further once they got their hands on his small body. ( Not like he actually had a family, just two adults in the same house, taking their anger and misery out of him. )

He built his career, his reputation, his whole life on lies, and deep down he knew one day they would catch up to him. So the possibility of him finally trusting someone, that person reciprocating his feelings and him not fucking it all with his background was a slim chance. Every time he thought about it he made sure his patrols lasted longer. If his sidekicks realized it, they never commented on it.

But still somehow in all that chaos happening outside in the hero society and inside his head, you came and stuck around him.

He didn't realize it at first, or maybe ignored it till he couldn't anymore. How you talked to him like you would with anyone, making him feel like for once he is being talked to because of who he is, and not what he is. (a liar, a fraud, someone not even their own mother could love). How he started looking for the end of his workday so he can catch up to you, how his eyes searched for you when he passed through the district you live.

When he finally got enough courage to confess and got a positive response from you he was truly the happiest he has ever been. He did not tell you the several scolding sessions he got from different heroes, because apparently everyone was tired of how lovesick he was behaving. He is a bird, not a puppy, thank you very much.

After the war it was all a mess again. Keigo didn't know what to grieve more, but you still supported him without his wings and he knew he just had to drop to one knee to ask that damn question.

His family name never brought him anything else than pain. Neither of his parents ever wanted him and always made sure he remembered that. So it was an easy choice to give up on his last-name and take yours, a promise to you, and an assurance to himself. That this time his family loved and wanted him, that in the future he would not become what his father was ignoring how much he looks like him as he gets older . He had many things that kept him awake at night, but never about anything that involves you. When he gets bored from all paperwork, he stares at your photo on his office and his name plate next to it, reminding himself that after everything, he still somehow managed to get his happily ever after with the sweetest dove out there.

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I have been writing fics for years on and off but this is my first time on tumblr so im sorry if the fic is a bit sloppy and looks weird, its gonna take me a bit to get used to the settings here. Anyways, ill be using this acc to spread more hawks propaganda :D hope you liked it!

[rayormay]

Internship

[rayormay]

A tiny one-shot blurb on my take of what's happening here:

Hawks pulls himself over rock and dirt. The overturned earth cuts his bare skin. He grimaces and keeps moving forward until he can grab Tokoyami's ankle. He pauses and breathes, feeling the torn fabric of Tokoyami's pants under his palm.

His back burns and he feels terribly light without the weight of his wings. He gives himself no time to consider the feeling, no time to know what he thinks about his stolen quirk.

He sits up when he nears Tokoyami's head. The boys feathers are in disarray, some broken and others only tousled.

"Tsukuyomi," Hawks croaks out.

His voice is broken, mangled by the hand that had been around his throat.

Tokoyami doesn't respond and Hawks' heart stops beating. Wide-eyed, he leans over his intern and scrambles to find a pulse.

Two fingers stay pressed to Tokoyami's wrist and they stay there until Hawks feels Tokoyami's heartbeat. Faint but steady.

He's alive.

He's hurt, he's injured, but he'll survive.

He has to survive.

Making sure Tokoyami makes it out of this war is a mission Hawks cannot fail.

He has failed everything else.

He failed his league infiltration.

He failed to save Nagant.

He failed stopping AFO.

He failed to protect himself.

He can't fail Tokoyami.

He curls himself around his intern and keeps him carefully cradled in his arms. He tries to fold his wings around them, build a barrier, but he can't even feel where they used to be.

His body shakes with adrenaline that's slowly burning away. The fear catches up to him like a tsunami.

All he can do is hold Tokoyami. Shield him from further danger. Make sure he stays alive. Be thankful that, though his wings are gone, Tokoyami still has Dark Shadow.

Hawks holds him tighter.

He stoops his head to bring himself closer to Tokoyami's heartbeat. He feels each breath Tokoyami takes. Feels his waning warmth.

Once assured that Tokoyami is secure in his trembling hold, Hawks pays attention to the crack in his chest. He thinks, only for a moment, about his missing quirk. About how broken and bruised he is. How broken and bruised Tokoyami is. And for the first time on the battlefield, Hawks cries.

[rayormay]

salarymen enrichment

[rayormay]

I'm not just a bitch, I'm a bitch with a backstory

[rayormay]

you're in your polka dot pajamas, sheets freshly changed, nestled into your queen sized bed, book in hand. to any fleeting observer, the sight of you, face bare, skin glowing from recently applied moisturizer, would likely suggest a state of utter relaxation.

if that fleeting observation turned into a long-lasting one, however, the suggestion would instantaneously transform into one of nervousness.

it starts with your fingers, twitching around the spine of the novella resting atop your lap. next is your profile itself, furrowed brows, your eyes fixated on the same sentence for far too long.

so yes, you may seem calm at first glance, but you're not, and your discomfort shows in a melange of micromovements, one matching your interior chaos. the entangled mess in your brain, running over millions of scenarios, all involving him. in pain. bleeding. alone. he, who has been hurt so many times, you've lost count.

you sigh, run a hand over your face in a desperate attempt to ease your worries. sit up straight, tug the hood of his sweater further down. it's nearing midnight now, no sign of him. more reading it is, then, or pretending to, at least.

until you hear the ever familiar sound of a window opening an hour later, and he stands on the opposite side of it. tossing the book aside at a speed that would drive publishers mad with fury, you stumble off the bed.

hands grip his shoulders, push him into the bathroom before he has any time to react. “i'm putting a tracker in your head.”

he leans against the sink, looking at you with a mix of fatigue, amusement and something you can't quite place. “hello to you too, sweetheart.”

“are you okay? did you get hurt?”

"i'm fine."

“take off your shirt.”

“take me to dinner first.”

you glare at him. he takes off his shirt. when your gaze meets his bare skin, you're relieved not to discover any possible new scars. “you have a scratch on your face. i need to clean it.”

he doesn't protest, not when you rummage through the first aid kit, and especially not when the softness of your fingertips comes in contact with his left cheekbone in the gentlest of movements. not when you treat him in a way that transforms even the sting of antiseptic into a feeling of love. of care. he can't even be mad at the hello kitty band aid you top it all off with.

“there. now take a shower. i'm not dealing with the sweat of a man on my new linen sheets.”

“and here i thought we had something.”

you scoff. “fresh clothes are laid out on the washing machine, you big baby.”

“you forgot something, though.”

“what? are your legs inju-”

he grins, steals a brief kiss, purposefully prodding his sweaty fingers into the fat of your cheeks, and the bathroom door shuts before you can react to anything. 

-

it doesn't take long for the mattress to dip slightly, and you relax as soon as you feel him behind you. a pair of strong arms wraps around your middle, pulling you into a comfortable embrace. somehow, he manages to stay warm, even after spending the dreary nights of gotham winter outside.

when your hands rest atop his, his fingers engulf yours, rugged skin across a pattern of smoothness. he leans forward, kisses your shoulder, nuzzles his chin into your space. it is only when he's this close to you, no room for secrets left, that he allows himself peace. 

“love you, jay.”

too fatigued for a verbal answer, you merely feel his grip tighten in response, but it's enough for you.

if an observer passed by the two of you this very instant, no matter how long their glance may last, they would be able to identify solely one thing: tranquility.

[rayormay]

Jason being protective over Bruce during gala season

[rayormay]

Based on this :

[rayormay]

i can only imagine batman having to tame shadow when he eventually gets adopted into the batfamily