seizuki

[seizuki]

hello laura!! I was wondering if I could request Leo, Langis, Finral, and Marx and what kind of hugs you think they would give? (this definitely isn't because I need comfort nope)

Hiya Kit!

Of course! These four boys don't get enough love and adoration anyhow~ (And I hope that you're doing better 🥺)

Pairings: Leo x gn!reader, Langris x gn!reader , Finral x gn!reader, and Marx x gn!reader

Fic type: Headcanons

Genre: Fluff

Leopold Vermillion

Leo’s hugs are energetic, and tight. He’d squeeze like he wouldn’t have seen you in days, despite having seen you only a few hours ago.

And they’d be warm. Even in the middle of winter, you’d feel like it was a bright summer day as he holds you in his arms. Which he always does, for the hugs, no matter how tight, firm and energetic they might be, they’re never short-lived. Even if he was in a rush, it wouldn’t be ‘enough in a rush’ to not give you a lingering embrace.

Perhaps the rushed hugs would even be the tightest, because he tries to compensate for the time with the intensity. He just wants you to know that he appreciates you.

But when you’re allowed to just be, and enjoy each other’s company, he’ll curl around you. His arms will pull you close and press your head against his chest as he buries his nose into your hair. And he’ll stay there, even when he starts heating up. Because your presence is far too sweet for him. He does let go eventually, but that’s only when it starts becoming far too hot to bear, you both beginning to sweat.

Once that point is reached, he’ll squeeze you and press a kiss onto your forehead before finally letting go. But he assures you that it’s only because of warmth. And it is. Which is assured by his wish to still linger close to you with a bright smile on his face.

Langris Vaude

In public he doesn’t give hugs, or… a lot of PDA in general. What he does agree to do, is link your arm to his, walking side by side. Perhaps even hand holding, which is a less formal version of holding him by the arm.

It’s the “respectable” thing to do. To hold your head high and look as mighty as you can. That was what nobles were supposed to do, and not show affection towards your partner. No, private moments such as that were supposed to be kept just as that, private.

But. Once you’re home, in the sanctity of your own room, all the years of living a loveless life would come to show. After he has finally gotten to the point where he dares to ask for your affection, he can’t get enough of it. He’ll drink it up like his life dependent on it.

Perhaps it does. He doesn’t know, and doesn’t care to find out, because whenever he’s in your embrace, it feels like every even remotely kind thing done to him coming back to him, all at once. And he’ll hold onto you with such passion, craving, even need.

His arms will wrap around you so tightly, but never hurting. How could he? How could he hurt you, the one who loves and respects him as who he is; a person.

He’ll cling onto you, and press his head against your chest. Or your head against his. Some days it might be both. He wants to hear your heart beating for him, and he wants you to hear his heart beating for you.

Finral Roulacase

Finral likes to flirt with you, even years after you started dating. After all, it never hurts to keep it fresh. He’ll hold your hand, perhaps even wrap his arm around your shoulders, though that’s not his preferred style. Even if he does like to hold you. Hug you. Keep you close.

He would give you quick, passing hugs on the go, whenever he’s not able to stay with you for long. But those brief embraces would always be accompanied by a longing, smiling gaze that would speak of his adoration for you.

A gentle touch and a warm smile, if he’s not able to hold you even as much as a passing embrace.

His hugs, in private, would include the entire spectrum from light to tight. He’d hold you in his embrace, running his fingers through your hair, but also, when the situation calls for it, he’d hug you so tight that you would never fear slipping from him.

He would whisper sweet nothing into your ear, and assure you that he’d always be there for you. Because you’re the best thing that ever happened to him.

Marx Francois

Marx… He doesn’t get a lot of time to spend with you, and unfortunately falls into the category of “preferably no PDA”. So, his appreciation is in the faint, apologizing smiles when he has to work overtime. Which, quite frankly, you didn’t initially realize was “overtime”, given how often he stays in his office.

And if you’re asleep whenever he comes home, he doesn’t want to wake you. But he would wrap his arm around you as he lays next to you. Gently and carefully, not to disturb you.

But when he can take the time, he’s not letting go. You’ll be curled on the sofa, or an armchair, with drinks and snacks nearby, and he’ll just hold you.

He’ll run his fingers through your hair, slowly, and carefully, as if you’d break. He’d talk about everything and nothing, or then say nothing at all. It depends on the day, and your mood.

His firm embraces happen every now and then, but come in second to his caressing, lingering ones. Because those hold the most emotion, coming from him. It is, as if, he’s holding onto the most precious thing in all of Clover.

Because… he is.

[seizuki]

HOW THE BLACK CLOVER BOYS WOULD KISS YOU

characters included: yami sukehiro, finral roulacase, william vangeance, langris vaude, nozel silva, fuegoleon vermillion

female reader

kaida'a note: a burst of inspiration came to me when i was staring a lil too long at william's lips lol

💭 YAMI - he'll kabedon you aganist the wall, his other arm will wrap around your waist with a firm grip. he'll tilt your head slightly up and kiss you agressively and he'll pull you closer to him while giving your bottom lip a slight tug.

💭 FINRAL - he's always beat red before coming in for a kiss. he puts a strand of lose hair behind your ear before cupping one of your cheeks and gently pulling you in for a short but sweet kiss.

💭 WILLIAM - he's super shy about kissing you but when he gets the courage he'll cup your face and kiss you lightly and slowly. one of his hands will wonder into your hair, playing with small strands of your hair.

💭 LANGRIS - he's always nervous before kissing you but he keeps himself cool and collected. he'll grab your hand and pull you in for a kiss, his kisses are rough and almost as if you're kissing a wall but he's learning.

💭 NOZEL - he places a hand behind the back of your head and pull you in for a rough kiss. he tightly wraps his hand within your hair, slightly tugging on it.

💭 FUEGOLEON - he brushes your hair away from your face and grabs you by the waist to have you closer to him, he tilts your head up and kisses you softly once he pulls away he continues to give you tiny pecks.

[seizuki]

HOW COME THERE ARE NOT JESTER GARANDROS X READER?!

[seizuki]

Hi! I rlly luv your writing your writing is very good .

Is your request open? Can i ask for patry (or partoli) has feeling for licht's daughter ( can i ask for yuno and langris crush on william's sister too hehe)

Ahhh the classic crushing on your boss' daughter / sister huh. HAHA (◕ᴗ◕✿) Thank you for loving my writing and sorry that you had to wait so long for your request!!

Also this would be a short one because I've written about how these boys would treat their crush before! Do read them HERE for Patry and Yuno! o(〃＾▽＾〃)o I'll make Langris one a little longer!

Patry | Yuno | Langris x f! reader

Patry

Initially Patry thought that it was just him being concerned towards Licht's own flesh and blood, seeing that he felt that he owed that man too much.

He constantly wanted to protect her, wanted the best for her and wanted to see her happy.

Until... Fana pointed it out. Why do you get special treatment for everything? Only did Patry realise it was true; he doesn't treat other members of the elf this way.

Initially he felt sinful. To fall for the great Licht's daughter. The man whom he wronged, he wasn't able to face Licht about almost destroying the human race, let alone wanting to date his daughter.. But he realised that the more he tried to suppress his feelings, the more he fell in love with you.

He was constantly teased by Rhya. (that man was relentless.) But after much encouragement from Fana and Vetto, AND a lot of time later, he got over his guilt and confessed to you.

Yuno Grinberryall

Yuno has a lot of respect for William, and naturally he would respect his sister too. Especially such a lovely and nice lady like you.

Initially it was just a mutual respect and admiration, but after awhile, he realised that you were constantly running through his mind all day. When he was not immersed in training, images of you would flash in his mind.

At first, he shook it off, thinking that he shouldn't be thinking about Wiliam's sister. In the first place, his goal was to be the wizard king, so he knew he didn't have time for any romance, much less with his admired William Vangeance's sister!

The entire thought was absurd to him. He was more frustrated whenever he thought about it and went really crazy during training times, even Bel was a little scared.

He kept to himself about this for a long, long time. He didn't know who to tell to, nor did he think that he could ever be a match for you.

Something probably happened before either of you would spit out your feelings for each other. Also, you probably have to press him for an answer before he would confess.

Langris Vaude

Dude doesn't care who's sister it was actually. But he'll die before he'd admit it to anyone. But this boy is hella soft to his favourite girl.

Of course he didn't even realise he caught feelings for you until he was already too invested.

He can be a little confusing initially, teasing you more often than the rest, but always giving you special privileges.

You're the only one that can annoy him a little more than the others without getting any snarky comments. At the most, maybe a little "tch" from him.

He's a little more protective towards you too. If anyone dared to bully you, they'll be in for it. They'll be punished by him personally.

But once he realises he does have some kinda feelings for you and then realising that you are his Captain's sister, he starts acting weirdly around William too.

William picked up his awkwardness, but he just didn't know what it was about, until the rumours started to spread to his ears.

Langris didn't care about anyone's teasing and would just tell them to 'shut up', but when William asked him about it, his entire face went beet red.

Boy would probably never confess under normal circumstances. If you asked him directly, he'd probably reply some thing like "can I not?" if he was already very sure of his feelings at that point.

When he was sure of your feelings, he would ask William before asking you out. Afterall, Langris respects William very much, even though he doesn't show it often.

-end-

[seizuki]

Their s/o accidentally falls asleep on someone else’s shoulder while they’re around

Magna / Finral / Yami / Langris

Fem!reader

A/N: requested by @winterxisxcomingx MWAH ily bestie 😚 hope u dont mind me adding in langris, my langris brainrot has been wild lately + i wrote it for my own indulgence ahaisbwja

— ✦ Magna

Occasionally, Vanessa would take home bottles of liquor either as prizes she won in a prior drinking battle or from barkeepers that may have sales talked her into purchasing. Nevertheless she would always call for a small gathering with the members of the squad.

You were a little too excited for this month’s mini gathering so much so that you started drinking without the others.

“Someone’s eager,” Vanessa teased as she plopped down beside you. She poured herself a generous amount of liquor then clunk her glass with yours.

Keep reading

[seizuki]

NSFW Alphabet Headcanons [Langris Vaude]

an: lately I have become a little obsessed with Langris Vaude, a slow process considering how much I used to detest him, but here we are. Now I thirst for the haughty man. I know I am not alone in my opinions, so this is for me and others that yearn for the spatial mage.

p.s. apologies for how long this turned out, I simply could not control myself! ^^

pairing: Langris Vaude x female reader

warnings: too many to mention, nothing is super kinky but continue with ease

Masterlist

A - Aftercare

It took Langris a hot minute to work out what this actually meant. Not accustomed to the softer moments in life, he had frowned in confusion as you forced him to lay back and relax.

What was the issue?

He had more than ensured your pleasure, and he too had found his release, why would he linger on the bed when there were other things to be done?

Slowly, he found that the quiet moments after what had transpired were sweeter than candy. Lost within the sensation of your fingers brushing into his chestnut hair, the rhythmical rise and fall of your chest and the melodic tunes you would hum.

"This is aftercare then?" he asked in a timid voice so unlike his own.

"Mmm, yeah. Nice isn't it?"

He was silent for the longest moment before rolling with you to reverse your positions.

"Let me return the favour, my love," he cooes.

Langris kneads at your tense shoulders, letting his hands skim down your bare skin in utter reverence as he kisses the top of your head. He wouldn't be skipping this ever again.

B - Body Part

You'd have to fight him - playfully - to discover his answer, but if truth be told, he likes his chest.

He knows that his strength is rather unassuming to most, often being dismissed for possessing only raw magical strength and not the physical type that Asta is famed for. Yet, under his magic knight's uniform lies defined muscles and corded strength, always ready at a moment's notice.

Langris has no wish to become as bulky as Asta, he finds it rather crass as to how thick the grey-haired boy's torso has become of late, but he will continue to train to maintain the lithe definition he does have.

Other than the physical appearance of his chest, there is another, far softer reason as to why he favours this part of his body. Within said chest beats a heart that had never known love, his family might have favoured him over Finral but he was a show pony, not a loved child.

Langris didn't know what it felt to be loved or to love until he met you. It was a turbulent journey, and it was not without some tears being shed. The armour around his heart crumbled into a rusty mess when he finally realised that to love, he has to allow himself to be vulnerable from time to time.

It was worth it, you were worth it and he would be damned if he would give it up after the battle he had fought to find it.

Yes, Langris likes his chest and the heart that resides within.

As for you, it's almost an impossible decision. You are everything he ever wanted but didn't know he needed. Langris may not be the most verbal with his affection, but if pushed he'd pick your hands.

He likes how they slip into his own when you know no one else is around, fingers interlocking and a thumb stroking against his palm. He adores that your hands seek him out in the night, wrapping around his bicep as you curl into him.

Your hands express your love and affection, the softness of your touch on his skin enough to chip away the icy mask that he wears to protect himself.

C - Cum

Langris was a flustered mess the very first time you made him cum. His face was so pretty and pink as he fought to keep his gaze away from your own, his breathing rapid and his hands clenched into the white sheets beneath him.

A simple handjob and he had spurted his sticky seed in record time as if he were some mere horny teenager. You knew he was embarrassed, could sense it with how he acted now and it tugged your heart. He didn't realise how empowering it felt to be able to bring his release so easily.

Langris was startled when you dipped a finger in his creamy essence, treating it as if it were paint and his skin the canvas. You swept it over the dips of the prominent 'v' that carved out his hips and pelvis, fingerpainting to your heart's content.

"Wh-what are you doing?" he asked on a hissed breath.

Finally, you met his crystalline eyes. Smiling sweetly you placed your messy fingers into your mouth and made a show of sucking them clean. It was arousing to watch the colours deepen, the way his cock jerked and hardened once more.

"Tasting you," you admit.

Langris was far from done with you after that display and remark.

He prefers to paint your insides than decorating your body but he has been known to pull out for you to swallow his load, but only if you ask very sweetly.

His cum tastes bitter but not unpleasant, almost like extremely rich dark chocolate. As for volume, well, there is enough to make several paintings if you wish.

In return, Langris enjoyed eating you out far more than he had anticipated. The sometimes haughty noble is not immune to becoming pussy drunk, lapping at your slick centre until his mouth and chin are shiny with your essence.

His eyes glazed and unfocused when you finally managed to pull him by the hair away from your trembling cunt. The simple act of watching him licking at his lips is enough to make you keen for him. Langris wastes not a drop of what you spill, he has never tasted something so potent and intoxicating.

D - Dirty Secret

Langris will deny it to the ends of the earth, but he enjoys wearing your panties.

Shocked?

I'm not surprised, no one was more shocked than Langris himself.

He didn't pull them on through any overwhelming urge that came to his mind, it was the result of a lost bet that forced the silky shorts to adorn his beautiful hips.

Langris was confident that he would win the bet and that he would never have the indignity of wearing a female's underwear, but he had been wrong.

He was a flustered mess as he left for the day, only the two of you in the knowledge of what lay beneath his pants. You tried to suppress the giggles, knowing that he would likely throw a hissy fit if he thought you were mocking him, but he was too dang cute.

You had to admit that he looked kinda hot in your silkiest pair of black shorts. You had chosen these especially as you did not think he would take well to wearing a barely concealing thong. His bits would never remain inside!

His lightly tanned skin was accentuated by the midnight black silk, the lace trim around the legs gave an inviting allure and you almost crawled to him by the door. Desperate to unbuckle his belt and pull any the layers to find the smooth material so you could bury your face in it, but you didn't.

Langris saw the look in your eye, he remembered it all day long and slowly he started to enjoy the feel of something so decadent against his crotch. He liked it far more than he anticipated.

He won't tell you this, and you will never tell him that you cheated in your bet... how naughty!

E - Experienced

You had thought Langris to be a virgin when you got together, but it turns out that he had lost his innocence in one of the very few times he had gotten drunk. He isn't proud of it, in fact, for a long time he tried to pretend it had not happened at all. Langris didn't remember what the girl looked like, let alone her name and it prickled him.

Certainly, you had no experience to speak of, and the one drunken time for Langris didn't amount to anything. That meant that you were to experience a lot of new things together.

Langris was certainly a fast learner. Within no time at all, it felt like he had a wealth of experience under his belt and you were still floundering like a shy little flower. He took your meek embarrassment in his stride, secretly enjoying how bashful you became when he whispered naughty suggestions in your ear.

"Shall I bend you over my desk, my love? I have a free hour or two. We could see how many times I can make you cum on my fingers before you are whimpering for me to fill you up properly."

Where had your inexperienced lover gone? That boy was dead and buried. The man that replaced him was confident in his ability and assured of his technique within the blink of an eye.

Langris Vaude was certainly a prodigy in many disciplines.

F - Favourite Position

Call him old-fashioned, but what is wrong with missionary?

Langris likes that he can kiss you deeply whilst he plunders your cunt, growling as you bite at his lower lip and he ruts himself harshly in reply.

He can brace his weight on one wrist or forearm as the other pinches lazily at your stiffened nipples, lowering his mouth to suckle the peak until you are yanking on his hair.

In this position, he can feel your thighs winding around his hips and the bucking over your body meeting him stroke for stroke. You feed him that extra friction that is enough to make him want to leave pretty marks on your neck - his mark.

Langris knows when your release is close, your hands sliding to his back where your nails dig into his flesh hard enough to leave thin red streaks. That hint of pain is blissful, knowing that you are losing the battle against your animalistic instincts and he isn't far behind.

He'll shift back on the bed, moving to his knees as he drags you closer to him. Pressing your thighs against his shoulders as his cock reaches new depths and drags deliciously against your g-spot with every precise swing of his hips.

Yeah, this is his favourite position, nothing else comes quite as close as this does.

G - Goofy

I'm sorry, this is Langris Vaude we are talking about. He barely knows what the word goofy means. If you wanted this in a partner then you were with the wrong brother.

He'll listen to your pathetic attempts at jokes, smiling kindly but his eyes are weary. The man loves you more than anything in this world, but he is never going to be the type to play practical jokes or burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter. It's just not in his nature.

Having said that, he does like to tease. He isn't above tickling you until you are crying for mercy, of which, he has very little. Langris will giddily straddle your waist to hold you down and tickle your ribs, neck, stomach and every other part he can reach until you are sobbing with giggling tears.

This kind of goofy, he can get behind, but it will always be behind closed doors. He doesn't wish for others to see that he possesses this side of him.

H - Hair

Tousled golden brown hair adorns his head, soft and gently curling around the edges of his face. Langris keeps his hair well-trimmed, believing it to be unbecoming of a young man to let it get too long. His shampoo smells faintly of jasmine, you'd think it would be a little feminine but on Langris, it really compliments him - balancing out the masculine elements of his appearance and personality.

Light smatterings of hair grace his pectorals, he used to shave it off until you insisted he stop. You love running your dainty fingers through the hair, your nails grazing his nipples quite on purpose as you do. He'll growl as a warning, but whether you choose to heed the warning, is entirely dependent on your mood.

His happy trail starts not far above where his sleeping pants would rest, the hair is a little denser here and especially as it continues down to join the short curls that nestle around the base of his dick.

The carpet surely matches the drapes, the colour is exactly the same no matter which part of his body you admire with your lustful gaze. Langris keeps his private area short and well maintained, but your nose still nestles against the coarse hair when you've managed to work his cock fully down your throat.

I - Intimacy

It took some time for intimacy to be the norm in your relationship, Langris simply did not know how to offer it, having received none himself.

Much like when he discovered what aftercare meant, he slowly allowed himself to ease into the sensation of letting someone close to his heart.

The whole thing came with soul-soaring highs and achingly awful lows.

Langris had not anticipated that loving someone intimately would bring with it such terrible fears. Thoughts of losing you in some way, of being hurt or falling out of love with him haunted his dreams more than he would care to admit.

Intimacy was a double-edged sword, capable of bringing ecstasy and at the same time being able to bring him to his knees in agony. Despite this, he wouldn't give it up for anything in the world, he only wished he had found you sooner. Perhaps your good influence on him would have meant mending of relationships far sooner than had transpired.

The majority of your shared intimacy is still hidden behind closed doors but on occasion, and when Langris is feeling especially proud of you, he will openly kiss your temple. He might even indulge in trailing his fingers with yours for a moment, much to the bewilderment of his squadmates.

Your relationship is no secret, but his softer side certainly is.

J - Jerk Off

This happens very rarely. There have been only a handful of times when he has been parted from you long enough to warrant him fisting his straining cock.

If he were to find himself on such a mission where you had not seen each other in days, then it would likely be first thing in the morning that he would indulge.

Awakening to find his morning erection practically waving at him beneath the bedsheets, his skin sensitive from everything that dares to touch him and his mind replaying the lewd dreams of you from the night.

Langris grasps the base of his dick, hissing through his teeth at the initial contact, he won't last long, he knows that much. Screwing his eyes shut and chin tilting his head back to face the ceiling as he tries his best to imagine it is your hand around him. The difference in size and strength of grips should be enough to wipe away his foolish illusion but Langris is so headstrong that the image of you remains clear.

He'd much rather it was you doing this, your dainty hand pumping his length, spreading his precum over his heated flesh in between kitten licks from your naughty tongue.

Only a few strokes to this imagery are enough for him to relieve the pressure in his abdomen and balls. Completely messing up the sheets but hoping he can slip them into the laundry without question.

Langris really cannot wait to get back home to you.

K - Kink

Don't tell anyone, Langris will not be impressed if you dared disclose this information to anyone - he means it - tell no one.

Langris is a sucker for praise.

You discovered it completely by accident. Laying back in Langris's bed, thighs spread wide and pinned down by his strong hands, his face was entirely buried in your cunt.

Your fingers speared into his lush hair, gripping at the roots as you spoke in broken moans;

"Oh gods, baby. You're making me feel so good."

He stilled for a second before his sparkling eyes lifted to lock with your own. You visibly watched the pink stain deepen on his cheeks, his tongue flickered against your clit and you whimpered.

Waiting until he was back to tasting your velvet lower lips, you spoke once more and carefully watched his reaction.

"Baby, you're such a good boy. So amazing at eating me out."

He groaned in his throat, eyes rolling to white as his hips rutted against the mattress. Langris was lost to his actions, fucking himself whilst he devoured you like a man possessed.

Let's just say that you know how to pull his strings, how to gently manipulate him into giving you exactly what you want.

"Whose your handsome best boy?"

L - Location

Again, Langris is fairly traditional with his preference. He likes to make love or fuck like feral beasts, depending on his mood, in the safety of your shared bed.

The options were almost limitless, he could contort your limbs into a variety of positions or simply choose to indulge in straight vanilla sex.

However, he has become rather fond of taking you in his office. It seems so naughty and unprofessional of him, seeing you bent at the waist with your dress simply a puddle of cloth only covering your middle. Your beautiful tits pressed into the smooth oak of his desk, both your arms in his grip as he slams into your fluttering cunt.

The sound of skin slapping is lewd and delicious as he reminds you to be quiet, knowing that you will fail sooner or later and he will have to make you suck on his fingers to dull your noises.

He loses himself in the sight of his cock plunging into your welcoming warmth, his balls smacking against your clit with every precise thrust and the jiggle of your ass cheeks as the clapping noise increases with each gush of essence that crashes against his crotch.

Yeah, Langris would take in his office at every opportunity afforded to him.

M - Motivation

There are times when work has to come first, you know this well and you understand, you do, but it's so difficult when it is keeping you from the tender touch of your handsome man.

Langris can become easily absorbed into his work, often not noticing how late he has stayed locked away in his office - he locks it knowing you'll try to distract him if he doesn't. He loves you dearly, but he feels there is still a lot he needs to prove.

By the time he slumps into your bedroom, dark rings under his eyes and shoulders slouched from exhaustion, you know you'd have to work a miracle to get him in the mood.

You've planned for this, Langris finds the room bathed in the soft glow of candlelight and you are draped on the bed in your finest lingerie. Silk adorns your torso from neckline to midthigh, the golden shimmer catching beautifully in the glow.

"My love, I am so very tired," his plea is genuine and there is strain around his eyes from denying you.

"I know baby, come here. Let me take care of you."

You pat the bed and watch as he slowly undresses to leave his uniform in a trail from the door to the bed - very unlike him. He hums his appreciation as he truly looks over your enticing lingerie, wishing he wasn't so damn tired.

Isn't it amazing how reinvigorating a sensual massage, a willing ear to listen to his woes and a loving hand to caress all his favoured areas can be? Langris is swept into the care you pile on him so generously.

You know in your heart that if he really was too tired, you weren't going to force the issue, this had been a lovely evening and you had no desire to spoil it with an argument. Slipping from the bed so you can change into his shirt for the night, he catches your wrist by surprise.

"Ride me, my love," he pleads.

"We don't have to, I know you're tired..."

Langris pulls you to him, lips searing against your own before he parts your mouths.

"I have not the energy to ravish you as I'd like, but I'd love to watch you fuck yourself on my cock."

Well, you don't need asking twice...

N - No

Langris, despite seeming rather uptight to most, is fairly open to trying new things in the bedroom. He feels the safest when experiencing activities with you - his trust runs soul deep.

However, there are a few things that are a straight 'no' and those are never going to change. Namely, anything that would cause you or him harm or pain. A spank on the ass, hair pulling, nails raking into flesh or hard bites are the limit to his tolerance for pain in the bedroom. Anything beyond that is a 'no'.

The same goes for anything too risky; he might love taking you in his office but he is not about to indulge in initiating intimate relations in a place where you are likely to be discovered, that would be foolish. The very thought of someone else seeing your body in the throes of passion is enough to boil his blood and make him see red. You are his and his alone, and in the same regard, he is yours.

Langris does not share, not now and not ever.

O - Oral

Langris is a big fan, and will often put off the main event in favour of absolutely losing himself in the feel and taste of your core. He will push you well on the way to extreme overstimulation as he practically refuses to detach from your puffy clit and swollen lips.

Drinking in your whimpers much in the same way he drinks in your delicious nectar, Langris can cum entirely untouched in this situation. Driving his hips further into the yielding mattress as you squeeze the life out of his head.

The man has serious game when it comes to oral skills, perhaps having a razor-sharp tongue helped him in this regard and in honesty it doesn't much matter.

He knows exactly when to tease your clit, when to slide his velvet tongue along your slit, how firmly to press his nose against your hood and when to prod at your aching hole.

His record is one straight hour spent between your slick thighs, and he would have continued if he wasn't concerned you would pass out from dehydration.

As for receiving, it is sometimes the best part of waking up. You were his very own alarm clock, often waking before him - which was saying something considering how early he wakes - to slide between the sheets and feast on his flesh.

The first moan out of his mouth tells you he is awake, uncovering your hidden form so he can watch exactly what you are doing. Cupping his sensitive balls as you slobber all over his dick, eyes wet from the tears of forcing him further and further down your throat. Muscles constricting to the point that his hips are jerking and he's cursing under his breath.

Langris won't last much longer, the early morning erection already close to painful and demanding release. Along with the sight of your fluttering lashes and tears tracking your cheeks, it's more than enough to force his orgasm - of which you collect every drop on your tongue, showing it to him before swallowing and opening your now empty mouth.

"Fuck, you're gonna kill me at this rate, my love."

P- Pace

Much depends on his mood, either is good at the right moment. Langris also likes to switch things up mid fuck, going from slow and languid strokes that ensure he grazes every sensitive spot in your clenching cunt to fast rough thrusts that make your toes curl and your nails dig into his shoulders.

He can play you like a damn fiddle when he wants, long having learned what every reaction meant and using different techniques to keep you on your toes.

You can be lost in his loving gaze, running your fingers softly through his hair as you reach up to peck at his parted lips one second and the next he has flipped you onto your stomach and is fucking into you like he is deep in mating season.

Don't ever think you truly know what is going through his head, especially when he is intoxicated by your nearness.

Q - Quickie

Langris really enjoys a quickie, it's an excellent way to feel connected to you in the times when work and evil schemes rear their ugly head.

Those moments when you are going about simple tasks like taking off your make-up or folding your clothes neatly away, the urge to pin you against the nearest wall is often irresistible.

If you could see the fiery blue flames that dance within his eyes, it would at least give you a hint as to what is to come, but he treats you like a predator stalking prey.

Pouncing when you least suspect it. Bruising kisses pressed to your lips as he rips away the layers keeping him from your bare skin, only every removing enough to allow him the much-needed access for scratching this insufferable itch.

You love when he is like this, the primal need driving him to consume you completely. It won't take long, the pace will be brutal and there will be little to no preamble but you find these moments raw and so real.

It reinforces the confidence that needs you just as much as you need him.

R - Risk

Langris is fairly risk-averse. He doesn't see any pleasure in putting you or him in harm's way. There would be no amount of pleasure in the world that could coax him into taking such frivolous and dangerous risks.

He wants you safe at all times.

Even when it comes to birth control, he is extremely diligent. He knows your cycle, probably better than you do, and he always has protection on hand for the times you forget to take your birth control pill. He is aware you are a little scatterbrained with such matters, and although he would much prefer to fuck you raw, the condoms are there for the times you do forget.

S - Stamina

On a day off, Langris is a solid 11/10.

He could probably go from dawn until dusk with the appropriate rest breaks scattered throughout - he could not survive on simply eating out your pussy - and water, lots of it would be required for such sessions.

These days are rare, although they do occur. As much as you enjoy being swept into carnal pleasure for an entire day, you would much rather enjoy his company in less lustful ways too. He is extremely witty when in the right mood, and you love to hear his take on current affairs over lazy mornings in bed. He has even been known to read the paper to you, adding his own spin on the events of the previous day much to your quiet amusement and giggles.

On a work day then he is probably closer to 6/10. He gives it his all and will most likely have enough energy to go at least twice before flopping back on the bed with his eyes shut and his chest rapidly rising and falling.

"My love, please tell me you have had enough?"

Can anyone truly have enough of Langris Vaude?

T - Toys

Toys are not something that is prevalent, therefore not much consideration has been given to their usage in the bedroom.

Langris would likely find the idea of introducing toys into the lovemaking deeply wounding. Isn’t he enough for you? He’d huff and puff at the thought of it, full-on pouting lower lip and refusing to meet your eye.

Heaven forbid that he discovers how toys could be used to drive you to the brink of desperation. Langris would likely smirk as he presses the tiny bullet vibrator to your clit, watching your legs tremble and shake from the vibrations entering your body.

“You asked for this, my love.”

U - Unfair

Langris can be extremely unfair when the mood strikes him. There is a slight sadist streak that stems from his upbringing and he hasn’t managed to shake all of it away. He might choose to let out his frustrations by toying with the idea of turning you into a whimpering boneless mess.

He’ll become absorbed in bringing you to the very precipice of orgasm, your hips stuttering and nails scrabbling against the bedsheets, only to dial it back down. The first few times are annoying but fun, after that you are full-on crying for him to let you cum. The pressure is too great, you might implode on the bed if he doesn’t push you over that final cliff edge.

He chuckles darkly, narrating his entire process as his slender fingers dip between your folds, spreading your slick and teasing your hole with short thrusts.

“You want to cum, my love?” Langris sounds so haughty, tearing his lips away from your quivering and tortured nipples to speak.

You can only nod fervently, noises of garbled assent slipping from your lips.

“Beg me.”

And you do. Langris can suffer from a slight God complex from time to time, and this is one of them. He is so unfair but always makes up for it on the other side. Aftercare is now one of his specialities and when he has been this cruel, he spoils you rotten with his actions and affection.

V - Volume

It’s rather a surprise how verbal Langris is mid-coitus. You hadn’t pegged him for being much of a talker, but you can’t help but be turned on by the lewd whispers in your ear.

“You like that? You like my cock buried in your cunt, stretching you open?”

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve damn near lost consciousness from the utter filth that he paints with his words. He’d probably make a fantastic erotic fiction writer, not that he ever would dare such a sinful hobby - most unbecoming.

Other than his words, he grunts, groans and growls. He is not one for shying away from letting you know exactly how deeply your actions are affecting him.

Pulling him in for a kiss by yanking on his belt? He is growling like a grizzly bear before his mouth slants over yours.

Waking him with your special wake-up call? He is groaning as he watches inch by delicious inch disappear into your throat.

Straddling his lap to impale yourself on his eager cock? He is grunting as your slow descent continues until you are fully sheathing his length.

Langris is rarely silent in these heated moments, and every little word or noise fills your soul to the brim with love for your beloved man.

W - Wild Card

The closest Langris ever came to losing his damn mind and fucking you in a place where discovery would have been likely was last year at a party hosted by the Black Bulls.

His fractious relationship with his brother, Finral, is healing slowly and with your continued reassurances that you would be by his side the entire time, he agreed to attend.

You liked Finral, you could see how much effort he was putting into building the bridges between himself and Langris, as well as how sweet he was to you. He had a partner of his own, and the two of you always got along well.

The party was in full swing with more than enough crazy antics to write a book about. Langris was nursing the same drink he had been holding an hour ago whilst you might have indulged in a little more than was sensible.

Pulled to your feet by Finral’s girlfriend, you both make your way to the small area set up as a dance floor. It’s innocent at first, girly shrieking as you both jump around with Noelle and Mimosa, but it changes quickly.

The cousins flounce off to find Asta, leaving just the two of you remaining as the music changes to something with a heavier beat. One thing leads to another you find yourself entwined with the girl, hips rolling in tandem and hands ghosting down sides and over stomachs.

One look over at your man and you almost moan aloud. The brothers look feral, tension radiating around them and you are sure it is not from an argument. Their respective eyes find their partners and for a few more minutes you decide to continue the show.

Finral snaps first, quick steps towards you as he pulls his girl away to goodness knows where, leaving you alone and seeking out Langris. You find him standing in a shadowy recess, he crooks a finger and you practically run to him.

His fingers tangle in your hair, baring your throat with a harsh pull on your silken strands. His scorching mouth licks a path from your throat to your mouth, insistent lips bruising against your own and teeth nipping at your kiss swollen lips.

Your hands are pawing at his chest, inching under the tight fit of his shirt and eliminating all space between your bodies.

Langris finds the strength to stop this in its tracks before he is fucking you for all to see. He doesn’t want that, doesn’t wish to share you. The dancing with Finral’s girl was the very limit to his allowances and he hadn’t expected to be quite so affected, and it seemed his brother was much in the same boat.

Arriving home was quite the experience but it’s a secret Langris wants to keep between you two.

Ask nicely enough and the story might be told…

X - X-Ray

Oh my, you walk in on Langris exiting the shower. The towel loosely tucked around his hips happens to fall away at the very moment you close the door. What an eyeful, let’s drink in this absolute treat of a male.

Golden brown hair damp and tousled clings to his handsome face. His jaw is sharp, angular with defined cheekbones that many a girl would kill for. His aquamarine eyes lock with yours as you trail his impressive frame with a hungry gaze. His lips tilt into a knowing smirk, chin lifting in what you might think to be haughty defiance, but you know him better than that, he is teasing you for looking so brazenly.

His skin is very lightly tanned with a faint sprinkling of freckles gracing his shoulders. His torso is lithe but well-defined. Muscles packed onto his slim frame in a way that makes his strength entirely unassuming. Long slender fingers wiggle as you continue to venture down, almost dancing as if to remind you of the last time he had used the digits on your body.

His stomach dips slowly, unfazed by your tour of him and you eye his happy trail that you adore so much. He must be happy to see you, his generous cock lengthening before your eyes, as if by magic. His length is impressive, more than enough to kiss your cervix and with an especially girthy base that means you never truly get used to his size. There is always a slight burn to accommodate him fully, but you love it, love the stretch.

His legs are slim as are his hips, and although he is face on you can well imagine his cute little tush. Knew that he is likely clenching his cheeks as you bite your lip and finally pad towards him in anticipation.

What a man…

Y - Yearning

Langris is always yearning, although you might not even know it. Coming from nobility he has long since mastered the art of entirely masking his emotions behind a veil of indifference.

He might let you in on his little secret, whispering in your ear as you pass each other in the hallway. Tells you just how adorable he finds your new knee-high socks and that he can’t wait to learn how they feel next to his ears. You’ll squirm as people pass the two of you, not knowing that the vice-captain of the Golden Dawn is turning your panties damp with his words.

Then again, he might not tell you how turned on he is whenever you are near him. It’s his little secret, one that brings that smug smile to his lips. To keep it under wraps means he has to keep his hands and his thoughts to himself at least some of the time, it’s hard when he is literally aching for you. Everything below the waist feels far too tight and restrictive.

If he didn’t take his duties as seriously as he does then he would likely be found twisting the sheets with you as often as he could.

Langris always wants to be buried in your warmth, but realistically, he knows this is impossible. He’ll settle for taking you in any free moments he has.

Z - Zzz

Langris needs his sleep, he cannot function on too little of it and he has a rather strict sleep schedule that he rarely deviates from.

Before he met you, he used the extra hours in the morning for exercise, reading and catching up with paperwork. Now he is more likely to be found reading the paper to you as you snuggle against his side or fucking you absolutely senseless before he has to get ready for work.

The man does not believe in naps, they are a waste of his time and he tsks every time he finds you nestled in the sheets during the day. You best believe he is gonna spank your ass to wake you up, and he wonders if you specifically wear your cutest pink panties for this very reason.

Langris is in bed by 11pm every night. He doesn’t force you to bed at the same time, he knows you often read much later into the night but he will pout from his side of the bed if you choose to read in the chair. His eyes, already heavy from the sleep that is fast approaching, blink at you slowly. A hand slips free of the comforter to make adorable grasping motions and his bottom lip juts out.

You roll your eyes, but you know you’ll be climbing into bed with him, how could you say no to the soft vulnerable side of Langris? His head on your lap, he almost purrs his contentment moments before he is fast asleep.

“Sweet dreams handsome, I love you.”

[seizuki]

I'm so sick of this. What the hell!? I get that it's technically a 'beauty standard', but it's a fighting manhwa. At least give some muscle 😭 PTJ also forgetting about Sophia and Euntae's girl(I forgot her name </3), they could've been the women with such a great fight in lookism.

Talking about the clothes suddenly skin tight too, gee

I'm so tired of some action manhwa.

❀ just what in the shapeshifter fuck is this man 😭😭😭

❀ I'm so disappointed actually... Why did the suit suddenly become skin-tight what. she's really pretty and I'm hyped because she's a fighter, but I don't think changing her body type was necessary 🥀

[seizuki]

Don't be silly, guys. He's not 44

WHOMST THE FUCK SAID MATTHIAS IS 44 AND HOW WHAT IS HIS SKINCARE ROUTINE

[seizuki]

Childhood flashback gang !!

Ts took me up to 24 hours...

(Background cr: Joko_p from sketchfab) I tried my best to blend it in cause I gave up drawing background...

[seizuki]

Monoma having the time of his life

He's still mad after finding out Mineta's 'confession' to Deku.

[seizuki]

Hi

Who are you?

[seizuki]

The best duo. Monoma and Shinso !!

[seizuki]

Need... Worried asf monoma x barely alive reader who got their ass sent to the hospital... Shit ton of angst and a fluffy ending and my life is yours unc 🙏🙏

what silence held | n. monoma

the mission went wrong. she didn't make it out whole. he held what was left, whispering promises and apologies into bloodstained skin, praying she'd come back just once more. (2407 words)

neito monoma had always been a figure sculpted from layers of meticulous deflection and purposeful arrogance, a carefully constructed image designed to repel rather than invite closeness. beneath that armor, however, lay an earnestness few had glimpsed, an admiration that had quietly rooted itself deep within him, growing stronger with every interaction he had shared with you—an admiration he kept stubbornly hidden behind sarcasm and rivalry.

but now, standing rigid and hollow-eyed before the stark hospital window separating him from your battered form, monoma felt every carefully laid barrier crumble beneath the weight of profound fear. the clinical white lights cast sharp, unforgiving reflections across the polished floors, illuminating your frail, unmoving figure beneath the sterile sheets. the stark contrast between your vibrant spirit—once so full of stubborn resolve—and the battered body now sustained by machines cut deep into his consciousness, a visceral pain he'd never known before.

your body was a ruin.

blood still crusted around the stitches at your temple, a wound that split your skin down to the bone. your left eye, swollen shut, was purpled nearly black. dried blood rimmed your nostrils. deep bruises bloomed across your collarbone and arms, fingerprints in violent shades of plum and yellow. a jagged gash peeked from beneath the gauze on your abdomen, where they'd reopened you twice due to internal bleeding. a rib had pierced your lung. he'd overheard the doctors say it was a miracle you'd made it to the hospital at all.

inside the room, it was too quiet.

the low whir of the oxygen machine, the faint hiss of air being pushed into your lungs, the soft, consistent beeping of the heart monitor—it should have been reassuring. instead, it felt like a countdown, like a fragile metronome ticking away the seconds you might have left. monoma sat motionless in the corner of your room, the plastic chair beneath him stiff and biting. the rhythmic tick of the wall clock carved into his skull with every passing second, each one sounding louder than the last.

he hated it. hated the silence. hated the way it filled his ears and forced him to listen to the slow, labored breaths you weren't taking on your own. hated the sterility, the scent of antiseptic that clung to the air like guilt. he wanted to scream, but the moment he opened his mouth, nothing came. just the sound of that damned beeping.

monoma sat in rigid silence, watching as your chest rose with the help of the machines, not strength. not anymore. all he could do was sit there and remember. not the good memories. no—the last thing he wanted, the thing he couldn't stop seeing, was how it happened. how you ended up like this. how he let you end up like this.

and then he was back there.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

the air was thick with smoke and ash, turning daylight into a choking haze that painted the battlefield in bruised, sickly hues. rubble littered the ground, the shattered remains of buildings cracked open like bone, and the screams of distant civilians echoed behind the veil of destruction. fires burned unchecked, consuming what little structure remained. it was the kind of scene that stripped away any illusion of heroism—just ruin, blood, and the desperate need to survive.

monoma was bleeding.

he stumbled behind a half-collapsed wall, hand pressed tightly against his ribs, where something inside cracked with every breath. he had copied a quirk minutes ago—strength, maybe, or speed—but the user had gone down too fast, and now the power was bleeding out of him like the rest of his strength. he was running on fumes. his vision was doubled. he was useless.

he was alone.

except for you.

you were still standing. just barely.

ahead of him, through the smoke and flame, you faced the villain who had carved through half your team like wet paper. their quirk was monstrous—pure kinetic manipulation, an ability that turned every limb into a wrecking ball. every punch split concrete. every kick ruptured the earth. the sheer pressure rolling off their body was suffocating.

and you stood in front of it.

you were a wreck. blood soaked your shirt, a dark patch blooming from your side where a rebar had grazed your abdomen. one of your arms dangled slightly off-kilter—dislocated or broken, monoma couldn't tell. your face was almost unrecognizable: your cheek had split open, swollen to the size of your fist, and one eye had completely shut from the bruising. blood matted your hair and dried at the corners of your mouth. your jaw trembled with exhaustion.

but your legs held. barely.

"stay down," the villain growled, voice grating through clenched teeth. "i'll make it quick."

you spat blood at their feet. "you first."

monoma wanted to scream.

you moved first.

you ducked under the first blow. the wind it produced nearly knocked you off balance. you countered, striking fast—a jab to the ribs, a glowing blast of energy from your fingertips—but it only staggered them.

then they retaliated.

their elbow cracked against your jaw with the force of a sledgehammer. monoma saw your teeth snap together hard, blood spraying as your head snapped to the side. you crumpled against a lamppost, rebounded, and charged again with reckless, suicidal momentum.

he wanted to stop you. he wanted to grab your wrist and scream that it wasn't worth it.

but he couldn't even stand.

the villain slammed their foot into your stomach, lifting you off the ground. you flew ten feet and landed with a sound that monoma never wanted to hear again—flesh hitting stone, followed by silence. a wheeze escaped you, thin and wet.

you pushed up on shaking elbows, coughing violently. blood spilled from your mouth. you were wheezing, your breath broken like cracked glass. you reached for the pavement, tried to draw strength into your limbs, but your knees collapsed.

still, you got up.

monoma watched in horror as the villain lunged again.

they grabbed you by the throat and lifted you from the ground. your legs kicked weakly, a final show of resistance. your fingers clawed at their wrist, tearing at the skin, but you couldn't breathe.

they slammed you into a wall.

then the ground.

then again.

you weren't even screaming anymore. just hoarse, rasping gasps.

they punched you in the stomach. once. twice. three times. each hit echoed with a sickening crush. blood streamed freely from your mouth and nose. your arms dropped. your eyes rolled. your head lolled.

monoma could barely see. he was crawling—literally dragging himself across the pavement, nails scraping along the broken asphalt. he left a trail of blood behind him, from his own split skin, from your splattered remains.

you made a noise. it wasn't a word. just something small. a protest. a whimper.

the villain dropped you like a broken doll.

you didn't move.

monoma reached you in time to catch your head before it hit the ground. your face was slack, your eyes glassy. blood bubbled at your lips. he could feel the broken ribs beneath your skin, the sick heat of internal bleeding pressing against your side.

your chest fluttered. barely breathing.

your lips moved.

he leaned in. "don't—don't talk. you're okay. you're okay, just hold on."

your fingers twitched. you tried to raise your arm, but it fell uselessly.

and then, the villain turned.

monoma looked up. he met their eyes—calm, detached, like they were already moving past this scene.

he didn't have the strength to fight. he didn't even have the strength to stand.

but he spread himself over your body anyway, shielding what little was left of you.

sirens in the distance. voices. shouting. too far. too late.

he screamed your name. screamed for help until his voice cracked.

when the others finally arrived, they had to pry his fingers off you. he was still trying to hold your head. still whispering, "she's still breathing," even though you weren't.

they started cpr before they got you on the gurney.

monoma watched the chest compressions. the blood that seeped through the gauze. the oxygen mask they fitted over your mouth. the way your body jolted with every push.

he saw them restart your heart.

twice.

he saw the paramedic shake their head.

he rode in the ambulance. he held your hand the entire way.

and he didn't realize he was still whispering your name until they pulled him off at the er doors, dragging him back as the double doors slammed shut between you.

and he stood there, hands shaking, blood everywhere, not knowing if you were alive or already gone.

and in that moment, monoma broke.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

his body jolted forward, dragged violently back into the present. the smell of blood still clung to his nose, phantom pain still pulsed in his chest where he'd slammed against the pavement. but your hand was still there. still in his. and barely—just barely—you were still breathing.

he stood up suddenly and crossed to your bedside, dragging the chair behind him, the legs screeching softly against the floor. he took your hand into both of his, warming it with his touch, rubbing gently like he could coax life back into you through sheer willpower. his thumbs traced the bones beneath your skin, too sharp now, too still.

"you always did chase trouble," he whispered again, throat raw. "always leaping into things like you were invincible. i admired it, you know. even when i mocked you, i admired it."

he swallowed, breath shaking. "you make people braver just by standing beside them. you make me braver. and i hate how much i didn't say it before."

his voice wavered as he leaned forward. "you have to wake up. i need you to wake up."

the monitor continued its measured beeping.

and then, in an instant, that beeping stuttered. changed. slowed.

it was like watching a glass fall from a ledge. monoma's head snapped toward the monitor.

then the alarm.

the shrill wail of the machines filled the room, loud and final. flatline.

"code blue! room 308!"

monoma stumbled back as a tidal wave of medical staff poured into the room. hands gripped his arms, pulling him away, guiding him to the wall.

your body convulsed once under the defibrillator's shock. a nurse straddled the bed, counting out compressions as another prepared the next jolt. the beeping was gone. it had been replaced by that long, singular tone—flat and cruel.

he could see the color draining from your face. could see how your limbs had fallen loose, like strings cut from a marionette. you weren't breathing. your chest didn't rise. and he felt something inside him crack wide open.

the compressions were brutal. blood bubbled at your lips from the force of them, smeared across your cheek as your head lolled uselessly to the side. the nurse's hands were slicked in it. every thrust against your sternum echoed in monoma's ribs like he was being punched himself.

"again! clear!"

the jolt lifted your chest off the bed. still nothing.

one of the nurses looked up at another, eyes wide. "her vitals are too unstable. i—i don't know if we're going to get her back."

"we keep going!" another shouted, voice fraying at the edges. "she's young. she can still fight."

but doubt was a living thing in the room now. it crept through the gaping silence between the shocks, through the gory mess staining your gown, through the flatness of your chest.

monoma shoved against the arm trying to steady him. "please," he said, voice low and strangled. "please just—just do something. don't let her—don't let her die."

he was shoved back as they resumed cpr. he could hear bones breaking. could hear his own blood in his ears, roaring.

he was watching you die.

and then.

a single, weak beep.

then another.

the line began to flutter, erratic but blessedly alive. the flat tone faded into silence.

"we have a pulse!"

monoma collapsed into the nearest chair like a marionette cut loose. his hands were shaking violently. he reached for your hand again—still cold, still limp—but now, thankfully, attached to something living.

he didn't speak for hours. couldn't. his voice felt locked somewhere deep in his chest, behind the weight of what he'd seen. what he'd almost lost.

—

days passed in a haze.

he hardly left the room. ate only when someone forced him. he sat beside you, head bowed, whispering things you couldn't hear but said anyway. apologies. promises. secrets.

he memorized the peaks and valleys of the monitor's readout, flinched at every hiccup in the rhythm. he learned the shift rotations of the nurses, knew which ones brought your meds, which one checked the iv. he hated all of them for seeing you like this.

when your fingers twitched, he almost didn't notice.

then, they moved again.

he sat bolt upright. "y/n?"

your eyes fluttered, unfocused. your lips parted. "neito..?"

the breath he exhaled was more like a sob. "you're awake. you're really awake."

you tried to smile. "i feel like i got hit by a truck."

he laughed, broken and soft. "you look like it too. but you're here."

silence stretched between you again. but this time, it was the kind that held weight.

there were things in the air—things he had left unsaid. things you'd never had the chance to hear.

monoma reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead. "there's something i have to tell you."

you blinked slowly, but your gaze was steady. "okay."

"i can't... i can't keep pretending i don't care. you've always meant more to me than i let on. i admire you. i rely on you—" he paused, breath catching. "i love you. i didn't know how badly until i thought you were gone."

your breath caught too—but not from weakness. your eyes softened, a glint of warmth returning to your face.

"i think i've been waiting to hear that for a long time."

monoma swallowed hard, trying and failing to suppress the tremor in his hands. "then i'm sorry it took almost losing you to say it."

you smiled, slow and tired. "i forgive you. but you're not getting rid of me that easily."

he leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against yours. the machines continued to beep, slow and steady. for the first time in days, monoma let himself close his eyes.

"then i'm not going anywhere. ever."

[seizuki]

Finally, Thaddeus is awake 😭🙏

[seizuki]

KILLER PETER CHAP 89!! SPOILER ALERT

This is about Hanna's background. It was when Peter was mourning her. There's one thing that I noticed after Thaddeus and Simon barged into his room. Why do Thaddeus's and Simons's shadows represent their older image? WHYY? WHAT DOES THIS MEANN

SO THEY WENT IN ANDㅡ

LOOK

[seizuki]

Random but I think Ango and Mushitaro are the same in that they are terrified of being alone (because of losing someone close before) so relationships are really hard

But difference is that Mushitaro will try to keep his lover close, and will do everything he can to make sure they stay. He's loyal, and even if he says he's "a horrible boyfriend" and should be dumped- he actually really cares, and its obvious

Ango on the other hand I believe would genuinely do everything to be a good boyfriend, but would never show it. He would leave his partner alone, but send them texts and flowers as apologies. He tries, but he feels guilty everytime he's spending time with them, because he always breaks down and feels like he's not good enough.

[seizuki]

I can't help but think, If Monoma were to be a literal NPC Hori wouldn't put much effort into his hero name and probably gave his hero name: Copyright