Unfortunate Roommate.

loving the dabi content random artist😍

shitty mha doodles w the headcanon generator pt 2 :33

prequel to this iguess🤥

hawks: where is shigaraki

dabi: hjngng wha

i want this domestic-like fluff

hiii :3 i have a touya drabble for u since u asked, no pressure to write it ofc <3 but here’s the idea, fresh out of a coma dabi barely surviving on the streets, and bro passes out from lack of food/ freezing rainy weather, whateves, paired with a cool teenage runaway reader who takes him to their apartment and nurses him back to health and stuff! reader was probably in bad shape after they first ran away from home, and felt compassion for someone who seems to be in a similar position :( okie sry for yapping! u get the gist! ٩( 'ω' )و

bashing my HEAD IN I LOVE THIS

when touya opens his eyes, the first thing he notices is a ceiling. textured, there's warm but very little light and the sounds of the city are muffled. it takes him about five seconds to jerk upward and fully take in his surroundings.

he doesn't know where he's at. there's very little on the walls, a sparcely furnished room and the couch he currently sits on is worn down to threads and the cushions are lumpy. whoever lives here clearly is just barely getting by.

though he's not expecting you to round the corner. you look so sweet, innocent-- someone who shouldn't be living or around this kind of environment.

"oh!" you're startled to find him awake. "didn't think you'd be up quite yet," the closer you approach, touya can see the dark bags under your eyes and the permanent crease between your brow even though the skin between them is flat. he can see tension in your shoulders even though you're hiding it fairly well. "how are you feeling?"

"who the hell are you?"

you pause in front of him. you had planned on explaining yourself, of course you did. you had a plan of how to lay the story of how you found him out while you made him some noodles over the simple gas stovetop you managed to score in this apartment. but you also should've known he'd react like a feral alleycat being cornered-- wide eyes and on the edge of fleeing if you got too close.

"relax," you state lowly, holding your hands out in a show of surrender, as if he's holding a weapon to your throat. "i found you passed out and on the verge of starvation the other night, just wanted to help nurse you back to health."

touya's lip curls in distaste. he vaugely remembers an empty and hollow feeling in his gut before his eyes shut the last time he'd been conscious. but he also remembers being hidden fairly well in the back of an alley where no random civillain would find him on a normal stroll in case he died mid-sleep.

his eyes roam your form. you look normal. aside from the glaring obvious-- your clothes look worn down and your shoes have seen better days, your apartment looks like a safehouse rather than a home for a teenager living on their own-- touya would assume you're a typical civillain who had a random flit of pity on him.

"why?" he asks, and he can't control how snippy and cold his tone sounds. from the looks of it, you expected it from him. touya doesn't know if that's the reason his chest squeezes or not.

"you needed help," your hand meets his knee for a fleeting squeeze and you ignore how he flinches at the touch. he looks shocked at the fact that you willingly touched him-- sympathy settles like a rock at the bottom of your stomach.

"i didn't ask for help," touya snaps in response, trying and failing to hide the flush that creeps along his cheeks. he tries to rise from the couch but he struggles when it comes to actually lifting himself-- he curses audibly before landing back into the cushion.

you watch the whole event happen with a slight amused expression, touya ignores it. he watches you move towards what you could call the kitchen and throw open the refrigerator. "you didn't ask, but i gave it to you regardless," you say over your shoulder.

touya knows you're making food for him. he doesn't want anything else from you, but he knows he's going to take what you give him.

"'m just giving you what i wished people gave me when i was in that situation."

touya feels his gut hit the floor. he doesn't say anything else.

years later, you find him out on the balcony, smoking with a handle between his fingers. it's been a lazy week at the league, so he can afford to let loose for the time being and relax. he looks lost in thought. staring off into the distance, if you were closer you could've seen the city lights reflected in his eyes, glassy due to intoxication.

touya looks different now. he's dyed his hair black (he never told you why, he just came back one day with the box and had asked for your help) and he's added piercings that you have fond memories of him coming home with.

the scars have gotten darker. the staples have changed color. you've helped change them so many times that you can tell when he needs fresh ones-- especially the ones along his cheekbones.

you lean against the railing beside him, slipping the bottle from his hand and lifting it to your lips for a taste, hissing as the bitterness washes over your tongue and down your throat. after you're done coughing, you look over at him. "what're you thinkin' about?"

"just us," he murmurs in response. his eyes don't leave the skyline.

the two of you have matured over the years. he goes by dabi now, you've donned your own villain name. but to the two of you, in private; you are touya and [y/n]. in private, the two of you are allowed to feel safe and content. you two are allowed to feel.

touya slings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side. the action is rough and clumsy-- but the affection is not lost on you. it makes you smile, the little one that brings out the dimple in your cheek. when you lean your head against his shoulder, he rests his head on top of yours.

you feel like you love touya.

touya knows he loves you.

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

This is nice, something i preferred reading❤

Time Of The Month.

Normal!Touya todoroki x Pro Hero!reader

Summary: young touya accidentally burns his girlfriends favorite teddy that she's had since childhood - she's gutted. It doesn't help that she's on her period too.

AU: Touya never became a villain.

Warnings: cute touya, crying, mentions of dark past, touya having a panic attack

Authors note: send in requests.. i need motivation. Enjoy!

"Shit.." touya said, scrambling around to try and find something to fix the teddy with. It was burnt to a crisp, only one side of it barely intact - only one eye, and the plastic nose had melted into the now rough fabric.

In his defense, you spent too much time with your teddy. He patted out the blue flames - you'd be home in an hour - what should he do? He can't fix it, and he certainly couldn't buy another one, he didn't have time. He ran his hand through his white hair and picked up a black pen from the bedside table and scribbled a little note.

He clicked the pen, setting it down next to the note, quickly slipping his shoes and coat on to go and meet up with his family for dinner, while you was on Patrol. He mentally kicked himself for being so reckless, and headed out the door.

-

About an hour later, you opened the door, kicking off your hero boots and quickly waddling to the bathroom to change your pad. God.. the cramps where really getting to you now - the villain you had just fought had gotten the worse side of it. The short end of the stick.

"Such an awful day.." you mumered to no-one in particular and slumped onto the couch.

You sniffed, smelling burnt plastic - unusual. Touya never does his little DIYs in the house, he does them in the garage.

You got up lazily, and headed to their shared bedroom - the room dark, the sunset seeping into the room, giving it a nostalgic feeling. The dark blue walls contrasted to the beautiful paintings touya had drawn, some unfinished, some framed on the shelving units that he put up the moment you said it'd look cool. The bed was made messily, touya probably waking up late and scrambling to get dressed to meet his family like he said he would.

Then, your eyes drifted to a lump in the sheets. You peeled it back - your teddy. Well, what was left of it. "No!.." you thought to herself, and tears brimmed your E/C eyes. "Damn you, touya!"

You looked at the note, and picked it up quite aggressively. You read over it with foggy eyes, and tore it up, chucking it in the bin, doubling over in pain. Your cramps really weren't helping her situation.

You flopped onto bed, softly crying into your pillow, hugging the now burnt teddy.

-

"So, touya. How's life?"

Natsuo said, munching on some Katsudon that Fuyumi made fresh, Rei talking to Shouto who was spacing out. Enji just sat there eating peacefully.

"Alright, I guess, y/ns convinced me to enrol in the hero course, but I don't know. I don't really want to be a hero - I think she just wants to close off any loose ends of me going down the wrong path.. I told her it wouldn't happen, but yknow. She doesn't listen." Touya explained, shouto snapping out of thought, walking over to sit next to his big brothers.

"Touya-nii? Shouldn't she be off Patrol by now?" Shouto said, looking at the clock. It's half 6, and liv got off work for about half 5.

"Yes, shouto, I'll text her," he said, whipping out his phone.

Touya:

Babe, you off work?

Baby?

Are you alright?

You:

No I'm not.

Touya:

Oh

It's because of your teddy right?

I didn't know what to do

I'm so sorry baby

I picked it up while I was having a bad dream and burnt it

I'm so sorry

Babe

Please answer

-

Touyas eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at his phone - you had read his messages, but you haven't responded. He felt his breath catch in his throat, feeling like he was suffocating. He couldn't breathe. His chest got tighter, a burning sensation in his eyes as he got up and rushed out of the front door and straight to their shared apartment. He needed to apologise to you. Now.

-

He swung the door open, and he caught you walking into their room before you shut it.

"Babe, let me in please.."

"Go away."

"Baby, please- I didnt- I didn't mean it, i- I had a really bad dream and I burnt it- please- please open the door!.." Touya struggled to get his words out as his throat closed up, choking back sobs.

The door opened slowly, and you let him in. He was a tall guy, not muscular but not skinny, his big blue bug eyes filled with tears, his eyebrows contorted with pain and sadness. His knees buckled, and he gripped your tshirt, his forehead resting against your stomach as you stood looking down at him, your own eyes puffy from crying.

"I'm so sorry!.. I didnt- i didn't mean it!- Please, please don't shut me out! Please don't leave!.." he blurted out, tears staining your sleep shirt. You ran your fingers through his his hair, and your heart sank with worry as he clutched at his chest, struggling to breath, and crying at the same time.

You dropped to the floor infront of him, taking his chin into your hands, trying to ground him. "Touya, baby, listen- I'm not gonna leave you, it's okay-"

You said, raking your fingers softly through his hair.

"Promise me?.."

He said, his shaking shoulders calming down, now more able to breath. He hiccuped a bit from the crying, and you brought your hand to the back of his neck, gently pushing his face into your neck, and the two of you just sat there in your home, calming eachother down.

"I'm not that sad, touya. I'm just a little annoyed that you didn't wake me up after your nightmare." You said, pushing his hair out of his face.

"I'm sorry.. I didnt want to disturb you.."

He said, and your heart clenched. You hated seeing him like this - but it was one step closer to healing him - you had stopped him from going down that horrible path that he had planned to drive down, and you where there to turn him around.

"Come on. Let's get into bed, yeah? Nice and comfortable." She said, standing up, and climbing into bed with him.

He was almost always little spoon, just wanted to be hugged and loved the way he always yearned for. In his head, his voice was baby touyas. Because at heart, that's who he'll always be. That small little boy, who always wanted to be loved and looked at. And you where there for him, to nurture him and look after him like his parents never did.

"I love you touya." You said, hugging him tight.

"I love you too." He said, before drifting off to sleep.

At least he looked peaceful in his slumber -

when he didn't have to worry about a thing.

-

-

Authors note: cried writing this chat. The end really got me.. MY BOY..

Rip Touya Todoroki 🕊.

touya todoroki calico hair

╱|、

(˚ˎ 。7

|、˜〵

じしˍ,)ノ

Anyways so I’m getting fucking roasted on tinder

"touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya touya" me and touya fans say in unison

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OF ART & SWORD ──── samurai¡ touya × geisha¡ reader.

about. oh but to love a woman who is already married to art. set in edo period, rural japan! au. romance. mentions of alcohol and suggestive content ( very short & uncompleted sex scene, it's intimately beautiful ) wc of 4300+

notes. the long awaited fic that's been sitting in here for months LOL. these rural jp themes & titles are based on research. anyways, no grunge dabi content this week.

SUNDAY NIGHTS were the only night that all the well respected samurai of the shogun had all for themselves. the gruesome days of protecting, engaging in battle, and training during the day were seemingly like a preview of what hell is like.

during this one night where they are granted freedom to sprawl all around the kingdom, many of the samurai's loyal warriors are seen in brothels. they engage in nothing but sugar-coated conversations with the women there and the next thing their bodies entwine.

tonight, the elite men all decided to spend their nights watching performances led by the women from the best okiya in the entire city. tonight is the night of artistry.

it is hard to tell if the samurai were here for art or not, since they all knew that a specific tayū of eternal beauty resides in this okiya. a woman who married the concept of art and ingrained it all throughout her soul.

the highest ranking of geisha which stands on par with those beautiful oiran of pleasure, you, a tayū. a woman of art and a woman who never fails to shine a sort of hopeful light around her customers.

the calmest of turquoise eyes watched as the said tayū danced above the little stage.

your arm ever so elegantly tracing the strings in the air as your fingers dipped in the invisible waters. occasionally, you would turn around, your feet carrying you so lightly it looked as if you were dancing in heaven's clouds.

it sucked the samurai’s soul in a captivating trance as you danced to the shamisen’s tunes that your maiko played. your movements were so fluid that it reminded the samurai with pure snowy hair of the calmest waters of a lake.

he couldn't take his eyes off you, even when the performances were finished and all the geisha in the okiya surrounded themselves among the samurai men, mingling around for a little fellowship.

he swore he was the chosen one the moment you choose to offer him your attention, sitting at the empty spot beside him.

“good evening, sir. is it alright if i serve you tea?”

hell. your voice sounded like those heavenly angels who sang melodic songs. your words so smooth it simply rolled off your tongue. it is enough to make the samurai's heart race with your voice.

and gosh. has he ever seen such beautiful eyes before? those eyes that draw him close so that he can drown in an unending pool of your gaze. they were so kind that it taints his heart with the purest of colours.

he simply nods, never a verbal man. either way, he couldn't force a single word out of his throat with the way that his insides are all over the place.

you simply smiled and poured him tea, as you said you would. you only poured tea for him, never one for yourself. that made him want to push a few words out, a little distracted from his feelings.

“pour for yourself,” the samurai murmured, avoiding your gaze as you said a simple all right before pouring an empty little cup of tea for yourself.

“i’ve never seen you here before.”

“that's because i never came here before,” he replied almost immediately to your words as he took a sip of his tea. “those men have been here several times though.”

you glanced over him before focusing your gaze back on him. “yes, i know them. but i don't know you. what is your name?”

his turquoise eyes flickered to your face as you asked him for his name. it seems like common courtesy for a pretty geisha to ask for her customer's name so that she will appreciate and remember the faces of those who pay attention to the artistry of the geisha.

“it's todoroki tōya.”

tōya's name rolls down your tongue like a prayer.

ONE MONTH of knowing you and that is all it took for the elite samurai todoroki tōya to start sponsoring you. he is the only man capable of such riches and wealth and the only one whose patronage was accepted by you.

tōya's comrades were surprised. they did not see it coming— how he is such an aloof soldier yet was noticed by the most beautiful woman of the geisha world.

now, the samurai with hair as white as the winter snow sat on the tatami mat, watching as you executed solo performances for him and him alone, a way to show gratitude to your danna.

he watched as the fan in your hand flew in the air, your fingers skillfully performing tricks with such a nimble little thing. even with a tool used in your dancing, he was impressed by your skills.

“how'd you do that? the fan thing,” tōya asks as you continue to swing your arm elegantly in the air, following the nonexistent music which only plays in your ear and yours alone.

“i simply throw it in the air and hope to catch it the right way,” you replied, giving him a slower demonstration of the skill as you saw tōya tilted his head in confusion. you chuckled before your movements came to halt.

“there is no way you just hope to catch it the right way. there has to be a skill. just like samurai with their blades and kenjutsu.”

you sauntered over to the man before setting your fan aside and taking a seat opposite of him.

“but there is. when you have a skill, you hope to make the best out of it. you believe in the skill which you've perfected. that is hope. when i perform, i hope for the best. when i hope and believe in that light, then i can perform perfectly while holding onto that simple little light that lives within me.”

gosh, even your words sound like sweet honey that drowns itself into the back of his mind. the way you perceive a word as simple as hope has him listening intently, even if he isn't really into that kind of overwhelming genre.

by now, you already know he isn't a man of many words but just a few. you do almost all the talking, filling the air with your heavenly voice that tōya loves to listen to every time he murders his free time basking in your calming presence.

being with you simply makes him forget about all the samurai work that he has. in your presence, he forgets how to wield a blade, how to lead an army, how to fight for this country because all he could think of was how to hold your hands, how to lead you into his embrace, and how to fight for you.

it's pathetic to him how he forgets that he is a samurai, yet an elite one, whenever he's with you. and sometimes, he forgets what he wants to say and ends up uttering the utmost outrageous thoughts of his.

“you are my hope, y/n.”

THE MOON GLEAMED, like a massive white bone china plate, hanging high up on night heavens. its silver glows illuminated on the skin of a figure slowly and elegantly moving her arms in the air, forming a magical aura all around her. your hair danced along the cold winds accompanied by the soft waves of the lake.

you slowly moved, following the tunes that the earthly nature offered up to you as a gift for entertaining them with your dancing. to dance freely and to have no other soul tear your confidence away is such longing peace that you have been looking for this whole time.

when have you ever danced like this all alone without having to worry about anything at all? without the eyes of men burning their gazes into your soul.

you felt so free, telling your okasan that you wanted to take a nightly walk through town but here you are, all alone by a lake where the moon favours your absolute beauty.

there were extremely faint sways of the roots that danced in joy at the performance you are giving them, serving mother nature with your grace.

now it is tōya's turn to lay his eyes on your dancing figure. you slowly spun around, arms moving in the most graceful and beautiful manner he has ever seen. he doesn't know what to think or feel at that moment where he hides behind a tree to watch you twirl like a soft and light leaf which is being carried by the wind.

the samurai watched in absolute awe, unknowingly admiring such beauty that unfolds right before him from a distance.

turquoise eyes usually resting and pupils never forming into a lovely circle of whatsoever, they widened just a little bit, giving the samurai some emotions that perfectly portrayed his features. his lips parted a little, letting the cold mountain air kiss his lips dry.

if there was a way to keep his lips moist, it would be to have his lips on yours.

wait—

what was the samurai's most elite samurai, todoroki tōya, thinking..? to have his lips on yours? to keep his lips moist? to kiss you...?

tōya blushed. his cheeks grew a field of red roses, freshly bloomed and ready to decorate the rest of his face deep red. he covered his cheeks so quickly that the sound of a slap echoed through the night.

shit.

the sound has caught your attention. you have ceased dancing, now looking at the direction the odd sound came from. tōya completely hid himself behind the tree, hands still covering his mouth. a smile crept up your cheeks when you saw the beautiful white hair that immediately strikes out from the greeneries.

there was an incredible silence for a long moment, before a shuffle was heard.

"let's dance," you whispered into his ears, fingers gently wrapping themselves onto the hands of the flustered samurai as you pulled him along with you to lead him around the lake where you danced for nature.

tōya simply let you do as you wished, not uttering a word of disagreement to your offer or even shaking his hands free from your grasp. you have him cornered and wrapped under your pretty fingers. you made todoroki tōya all flustered and shy.

what could be a greater achievement than that?

when you took tōya's calloused hands and went for a run under the moonlight, he couldn't help but feel secure with a strong sense of comfort. love and affection began to brew inside of him from the moment your smile influenced him to curve the corners of his lips upwards too.

EIGHT DAYS AND STILL COUNTING, yet you've never felt much more empty and lonely with the lack of tōya's presence.

he has gone away to fight with the rest of the king's army of samurai, soldiers, and warriors. all courageous men who have pledged their utmost loyalty to the king and the kingdom.

eight days is excruciating for you, even if you tell yourself otherwise. tōya has been visiting you a lot more often than ever, and suddenly he gets drafted to lead an army after his long hiatus.

and pray tell, there was never a night where you wouldn't gaze out at the moon from your room just to wonder if he's also gazing at the same moon you set your sights upon.

you wish that the moon would convey a message to him through your eyes and thoughts that the moon hears. anything would be fine. would be better if you received some sort of message through the stars about the young samurai.

another eight lonely days and nights of engaging and socialising with the townspeople passed in long dreadful hours. in total, it has been sixteen days. mere two weeks and two days where you last heard the voice of the well respected samurai and ever since you saw his ocean eyes.

and here you were, eyes slightly widened at the sight of the said samurai you missed so much. tōya's eyes gazed into yours as you felt your breath being brought to an end at that moment.

like a sculpture, a smile slowly carved upwards of his cheeks, your own heart fluttering at the sight of your beloved danna. your widened eyes melted like ice-cream, softening at his little smile before you walked to him at the entrance of your okiya.

“welcome back, tōya-san.”

“hello to my favourite lady, y/n-san,” tōya did a little bow before chuckling to himself. he then handed out a small bouquet of peonies that was hiding behind him, awaiting to be presented to a lady.

“i never forgot about you,” said the samurai as he looked at the pretty pink peonies that made him smile. “in fact, i’ve always been thinking about you. on the battlefield, when i rested, even the moments where i cleaned my blade free from the stains of the dead.”

tōya's description has your face twisting into an indescribable facial expression, the silence you emit so deafening it makes his lips pursed in awkwardness at your odd reaction.

“sorry, i didn't mean to uh, say the last part.”

“no no, it's fine. surely you don't think of me when you see blood, do you?” you raised a brow.

his fingers moved up to scratch his cheeks. “of course not. what i meant to say is, i can't keep you out of my mind.”

and it makes you chuckle before you take the bouquet into your hands to sniff the peonies because you couldn't get him out of your mind too.

“i’m glad you're safe and sound. unharmed and untouched, tōya-san.”

you really thought he wasn't coming back.

THE CONSUMPTION OF ALCOHOL makes every other night spent differently with tōya. the finest sake ran down your throat like how it was when tōya poured you a small cup. the flavour of alcohol is so fruity and floral it messes with your mind almost immediately after consuming a few cups.

as tayū, your alcohol tolerance is so high that you could drink as many jugs as you wish. it definitely surpasses the level that your patron has.

for some odd reason, tonight the universe declares your alcohol tolerance to sink into merely nothing more than a low, innocent, maiko who awaits her turn for alcohol consumption.

neither of you knew what time it is. it's somewhere around 21:38. you think. the candles looked way too funny to read. by the time the candle runs out, your time with your danna should be over. but it seems that your candle still has a long way to go.

your mind wandered off somewhere to the dreamland where only the best possible outcomes happen in there and never in reality. all while tōya takes unending sips of the liquid that has already drugged his mind with ecstasy.

he fixed his vision onto you where you sat so elegantly and so poised, the cup in your hand as your hands rested on your lap. your eyes are half-lidded and lazy.

noticing your flushed cheeks— your pretty lips that were covered in a light layer of squeezed rose petals from the west. the sake left a trail of dripped liquid at the corner of your mouth and he so itches to clean it up for you.

so when his proximity with yours closes and he nears you, his nose so close to your face when he exhales you could feel it fanning your cheeks.

you glanced at him just a little bit, eyes locking onto his own and seeking for anything in them just to be pulled into an ocean that you start to drown in.

the tension is thick— one could probably cut it with a katana and it will not break. perhaps a lance could pierce through the broadness of the air. either way, the tension between you and the samurai is so heavy that it makes you forget how to think for a moment when tōya's lips gently touch your own.

he does it so slowly and carefully, pulling away to look at your pretty features, as if he's drinking every one of them sip by sip. then his fingers moved to graze your cheeks. slowly and carefully, he holds your face and cups it, not wanting to break you as if you are just like a fragile porcelain doll.

“you're so beautiful...” tōya whispers and your heart flutters. each day you hear the same thing over and over again by every soul you set your sights on. but when tōya says it, it becomes new and unspoken words to you.

truly, it makes your stomach flutter with how many butterflies that trashed around at his praise.

“c-can i kiss you again..?” asked the samurai and you nodded like a fool, pressing your lips onto his before he could.

you shouldn't be kissing your patron, your danna. hell, you shouldn't be kissing any customers at all. but you're here, drowning in the ecstasy of his lips and the way his hands feel on you.

the taste of alcohol on tōya's lips is so divine that it heats you up along with the kiss that grew more intense as the candlelight softly burned in the far background.

committing a crime against the rules and laws of the artistic world, you paid no mind to it. no rules or regulations exist to you in this moment where you back softly hits the wooden ground and tōya crawls above you to trail his lips down down your jawline and to your neck.

alcohol is forgotten, rules ceased to exist, and kisses marked your neck where kimono collars could cover them the next day.

tōya pays his mind in remembrance that you are still a geisha, still the daughter of art and servant of beauty. that much he wants to keep, although he isn't sure how much longer he could keep himself off you.

while he kisses your neck and marks them with bites that reeks of pure love, his fingers move to loosen the obi that holds your kimono in place.

once they've come undone, you could feel his hands peeled your garment off your shoulders as his kisses on your neck came to a halt.

your breathing is all hitched and messed up, letting the samurai undress you bare underneath him while his drunken turquoise eyes gazed at your body.

no words were uttered, just his lips that tells you how much he appreciates you whole. they drive down to your neck and shoulder, before going lower to your chest, stomach, and he pulls up to look at you before it could go any lower.

“why'd you stop…?” you whispered, your eyes looked up at him and your lips slightly curled in a pout, never wanting his sweet kisses to stop any sooner.

“as much as i want to do this, you could lose your career,” he answers and rests his hands on your cheek. “i don't want that to happen.”

“but tōya-san, i want you. i don't care about being a geisha if it means i could be with you. besides, you could just buy me.”

his cheeks grew a field of roses at your words as he remained silent for a moment. “then i’ll proceed with the transaction later. you're all right with that?”

you nodded. “more than all right,” your affirmative whisper has tōya pressing his lips against the corner of your mouth, giving it a few chaste kisses while his fingers hooked at the band of your undergarment before slowly pulling it down, his own breath growing shaky.

just a few more moments later and his tongue is buried deep inside you after the work of his coated fingers of your slick. his hands kept your thighs opened while you gripped on his precious white hair as he pleasures you with his tongue.

the candle still looks like it has hours to go, which is perfect and foreseen of this moment where you revel in ecstasy.

and when he pushes in and out of you while letting out praises and affirmations through his lips, you feel nothing but the deepening love for elite samurai tōya todoroki.

you don't want to continue being a geisha tayū anymore.

OKASAN SITS YOU DOWN. she's brushing your hair like any mother would. so sweetly and filled with so much affection in the brushing, her hands felt like mother's love to you.

she starts off the conversation with a simple update on the okiya and how business is going. it's progressing well, she tells you, and thanks you because of the successful business. then she mentions about your maiko and her coming of age.

your precious maiko which you've seen grown up into a beautiful young woman. she's now read to take the next step from apprenticeship to the real thing, to be formed into a geisha. and if heaven allows, your maiko would take your place as tayū. hereditary, it seems.

“you’ve given your innocence to the samurai?” okasan asked softly as you visibly tensed, causing the older woman to rest her hand on your shoulder. “do not fear, i am not angry.”

you nodded in response as you could hear the woman practically smiling through her gentle voice, hands lifting your shoulders to resume the brushing of hair.

“was he any good? i don't want my girls to give their purity to men who isn't of art.”

a firm blush painted your cheeks a bloody hue before you fidgeted with the hem of your kimono sleeves.

“he's… tōya-san’s really gentle. considerate too. he kept asking permission and fearing my career more than i did.”

the woman hummed in response. “that's really great. and what do you feel about it?”

“what do i feel about it ..? like, him being gentle and considerate?”

“yes. had he made it an honourable and unforgettable experience for you? did his kindness touched your heart?”

you thought for a moment. “to answer all your questions at once, yes. to be honest… i don't want to entertain anyone else other than him.”

“negative, y/n, negative. you do not just entertain people, especially the samurai. you share and show people your art. and you are art.”

okasan takes a ribbon to tie a low ponytail to your hair after brushing. once she tightens the knot, she takes a seat opposite of you and looks into your eyes.

“you mean a lot to the samurai. there's a look of love in his eyes whenever you are around. the same goes the other way with you. but remember, y/n. you are a tayū, highest of the geishas. you are tied to art, not to a man. and to be tied to a man, you must cut ties with art.”

so the next time tōya came to visit the okiya, you have already cut the ribbon that ties you and art together. however, when the samurai came, he's brought many things to the okiya with him. all gifts, for the women of the okiya, your okasan, your maiko. and of course, to you, the woman he kneeled on one knee to propose to.

THREE YEARS LATER and the geishas of the okiya where you once worked at are all gathered in the living room of the todoroki mansion.

your maiko— now a beautiful young tayū, carried your two-year old child around, swaying back and forth while singing the tunes she'd used to play on her shamisen for your performances.

okasan and the other geisha speaks to rei and fuyumi, the mother and elder sister of your beloved samurai, as you're in the kitchen with tōya, preparing food for the big company.

“tōya, no, put the onions in! not shallots!” your mouth filled with the unagi you just made, tasting it before your exclaims reaches your husbands ears.

“sorry! i can't tell the difference,” your husband grumbled in annoyance and held up an onion and shallot for you. “which is which, love?”

“onion’s that, shallot’s the other one,” you pointed as you told him, swallowing the unagi before beaming in satisfaction. “perfection.”

the samurai lets out a little scoff at you before turning back to the cutting board and knife, beginning the slicing of onion. “how can you tell the difference anyways?”

“my dear, i've been cooking all my life. it's easy once you get used to it,” you went to him and peeked over his shoulders, smiling at how skillfully he cuts the onions.

“is this you when you went to war three years ago and thought about me in the middle of the battlefield?”

tōya flushes red at that memory and cut the onions even faster, earning a “ah— slow down!” from you, before a chuckle emitted.

“not like i didn't think of you all the time back then,” he murmurs and slides all the onions into a bowl, handing them to you once he's done. “y/n, you've always plagued my mind like an artwork i could never forget.”

“i’m just very artistic, aren't i?” you pressed a soft and chaste kiss on his cheeks, a few cuts visible from his recent mission with the shogun.

“yeah yeah, so very artistic until i fell in love with a merely unforgettable art,” he leans down to kiss your lips instead.

“eww! get a room, nee-san!” your apprentice calls out before your child attempts to follow her in her coos.

“just showing love to my favourite lady,” tōya pulls away and pecks a kiss onto your forehead. “let’s continue cooking, yeah? i love you, my favourite lady of art.”

TAGGING ★ @seumyo @solvisun @syverse @lezviie @sanariafr @bbluefllame @onlyyemanii

© SENEON 2025 ♱ do not repost, alter, or translate.

power couple!!!

all these grunge toya tropes coming in but the author is literally a goth so how about a grunge toya x goth reader ?? they'd make such a power couple omg...

★ DRUNK && DEADLY ( GRUNGE¡DABI )

"are you drunk, or just on the verge of death?" grunge boy of the school asked at keigo's party as he watched your fingers tapped against the small glass cup repeatedly.

"i am death. and maybe a little drunk," you responded almost immediately as he pours whiskey into your cup, causing you to sit up straight and raised a brow at him. "are you encouraging me?"

dabi snorts and downed his own fair share of whiskey. "yes. i wanna see the darkest angel of death losing all senses of reality."

"weirdo," you commented and sipped the whiskey, the strong flavours running down and burning your throat before you let out a gasp and coughed a bit.

"strong, isn't it? it's jack daniel's," dabi asked and poured himself more, drinking it like it was merely water to him.

of course the grunge kid would be expected to drink so very often. all they do is destroy themselves on the inside and possibly out as well. that's your view on grunge kids anyways.

it's the same for him. he sees you as an odd creature rather than human— someone who drinks blood and eat souls. he refers to you as a freakish reaper of his death, and it always sounded like music to your ears.

"i'm assuming you're not going to drag me out to a cemetery after this party and, i don't know... crawl into my skin?" dabi asked, his gaze locked onto your black-stained lips as it presses against the glass cup to sip on the whiskey.

"i will, now that you suggested it."

"that's hot— crawling into my skin n' all."

and you wondered just why your words couldn't get dabi to stay away from you. if anything, he finds you extremely fascinating and unique, that fact drawing him close to you everytime. despite you slurring in your words while you're almost on the road to drunkenness, you're still pretty deadly to him.

but that's okay. dabi likes to meddle with death anyways.

note. to all goths, i heart you all. especially @solvisun 🖤 totally not a self insert inspired piece hehehaha

© SENEON 2025 ♱ do not repost, alter, or translate.