After The Breakup (BNHA Headcanons)

YO WERE U TALKING ABOUT MOTORBOATING FOR KUROOS SIT ON FACE TEXT CAUSE WATERBOARDING IS TORTURE

I WAS TALKING ABOUT WATERBOARDING BC HE REALLY DO WANNA BE SUFFOCATED BY THE COOCHIE😌😌

Jfc looking back at all this I cringe at the fake texts I’ve written🤦‍♀️

Hi! When will you continue the reborn story. Its really good!!!

I’m glad you’re enjoying it! There are no permanent dates, but definitely think sometime around the beginning of summer. Just a few more weeks!☺️

He Has a Nightmare About You (Stranger Things Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: started watching this show for momma Steve, stayed for the other, also hot characters. Don’t judge me if a vecna version of this comes out soon👀 Enjoy!

Billy Hargrove:

He dreams of you often, but never quite like this.

You’re in his arms; his lips are on yours, and your hands are in his hair. 

When he pulls away, it’s to brush a strand back from your face, pushing it behind your ear while gazing into your eyes. A smile is on his face, inherently small and lopsided, but genuine. 

It’s one of those times where he can’t believe how happy you make him, how much he loves you. You turn him into a teenage boy with a puppy crush all over again, but as long as no one else is around, he doesn't mind that one bit. Vulnerability did not come easy to him, but with you, he’d tear down every wall he’d ever put up just to get closer to you. Just to hold onto you that much longer. 

“Billy…” you hum, your hands coming up to cover his own along your cheeks. He feels infinitely warmer, more relaxed at your touch, and he leans that much closer to you. 

“YN…” Billy drawls back teasingly, blue eyes soft and expectant on yours. Your breath ghosts over his lips, and fuck if he didn’t hate that you made a shiver roll down his spine. 

“I hate you.”

His smile falters. “What?”

You tug his hands off your face, leading them to drop to his sides before stepping back. You shake your head. “I hate you, Billy.” 

Billy’s body grows cold. His lips part as he searches for words, eyes raking over your face for any hint of jest. “This isn’t funny, YN.” He lets out a breathless laugh, but it’s dull and fake and trying to draw some sort of usual response from you. 

“It’s not supposed to be. I’m serious, Billy.” 

His nostrils flare, and he wants to be angry. He wants to grab you and pull you back into his chest and make you wish you’d never said those words, make you wish you never hurt him, make you promise that you’d never hurt him like this again. 

You said that once, that you’d never hurt him like he has been before. You promised.

He bites into his bottom lip, willing a level of restraint, or rather, indifference. 

She promised.

Time moved slowly the second you pulled away from him. Carefully, your arms came up to cross over one another at your chest. Your eyes hardened, not angry or frustrated, but certainly more serious and intentional from when you had said his name earlier. 

He’d never seen you so cold—not at him. 

“What changed?” The words slipped from his lips, but the second they did, he didn’t bother fighting to take them back. He felt trapped in his own skin, unable to escape the anger, the hatred, the i that coursed through veins. “Why now, I mean, after-” he cut himself off with a scoff, bitterly licking his lips, “-after fucking everything we’ve been through together, you just, what, hate me?”

He hated it, this. He hated you, and he’d never done that before. Even the thought of his betrayal being directed toward you made him feel sick. She promised.

Billy looked away, wrenching a hand through his hair and not bearing to stare at you when he spoke. “You- God,” the corners of his eyes pricked, “you said you loved me. What happened to that?” He glanced at you, hating, hating, hating that you were making him feel this fucking way. Throat tightening, he barked out, “What fucking happened to that?!”

“I don’t love you, Billy,” you muttered, seemingly unaffected by his display of emotions. “I could never.”

And you saw it. He knew you saw it. He knew you saw it because he wiped it away, and your eyes had followed his hand as he had. 

He was crying. Goddammit, he was so fucking weak. 

Despite it all, despite every single horrible moment in his life, he never knew the feeling of true despair until you were taking your love for him back and saying it wasn’t real. 

“Billy, come on.” Your tone was persuasive, placating like you were trying to reason with him. You were talking to him as though you were telling a child that Santa or the Easter Bunny wasn’t real, that they never were, and they never will be. 

You used that same soothing, calming tone the first time you tried to convince Billy that you did love him. He remembered your exact words. “I love you, and no matter how much you fight me on it, I won’t let you take that away from me.” You had been caressing a fresh bruise on his cheek, and the kiss you had left there had overpowered the pain of his father’s wound. 

“Don’t,” Billy mumbled. “Stop.”

Don’t corrupt that voice, he pleaded, though the words wouldn’t escape him. Don’t take that away from me.

“Billy.” You drew his attention back to you, and, despite the stiffness of his cheeks and lips, he sneered at your pitying gaze. “Be realistic. How could I have ever loved you?”

“Stop.”

“Your father hates you, Billy.” Your voice raised, eyes burning with a new fire into his own watery ones. “Your own mother left you. Do you know what that makes you?”

“Stop.”

“Do you know what that makes you, Billy?” you demanded, teeth bared. “It makes you unloveable.”

“STOP!”

“Billy?”

“STOP!” Billy flinched awake, sweat dripping down his forehead and spine, shivering at the breeze of his bedroom. Chest heaving, his eyes were wild and unfocused as they darted about the dark room, few objects such as his dresser and desk only visible due to the moonlight filtering through his window. 

Sighing heavily, Billy dragged his hands down his face, groaning softly and massaging his temples. 

“What a fuckin’ nightmare,” he grumbled before peering over at you. 

You, still curled up beside him, sleeping peacefully. Your hair splayed out along one of his pillows, one of his shirts wrinkled and twisted around your form, your leg still crooked over his hips. 

You were still his. Thank fuck, you were still his. 

“YN,” he shook you awake, one hand on your shoulder.

You hummed in your sleep, lips twitching downwards at the disturbance. “Wha…?” you grumbled, not bothering to open your eyes. 

“Babe, c’mon, let’s go for a drive. Wake up.”

“Nooooo,” you moaned. 

“Yessss.”

“Can I sleep on the drive?”

He raised a brow. “You think you’ll be able to?”

One eye of yours peeked open, focusing on him instantly. You pouted.

Billy’s chest tightened, but for the first time since the dream, he felt like he could breathe. Thank God. He was not going to sleep another wink tonight. Not in that damned house, at least. 

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Fine, fine, I’ll go. Stop giving me your little puppy dog eyes.” You rolled off the bed, falling onto the floor with a thud before rising to your feet and wrapping a blanket around your head and shoulders like a cloak. “But there are ground rules, mister.” You held up your hand to him. “One, you can’t drive over 30 miles an hour. Two, no loud music- or, wait, no music at all-”

“What?”

“-Three, only for the next hour or so, then we’re going back to my place to go to sleep.” You gave him a pointed look. “Deal?”

His lips sloped into his usual smirk as he rose to his feet, arms instantly moving to wrap around your waist and tug you into his chest, close and tight. 

“Deal.”

You. You, you, you. God, he never wanted to think about that nightmare again, and if he never again heard the words “I hate you” fall from your lips, even as a joke, it would be too soon. You were still his, and he knew, he fucking knew, dammit, that you loved him.

“Why are you so sweaty?”

“Don’t ask.”

Steve Harrington: 

“Steve,” Robin muttered softly. Her gaze was downcast, and she had one arm around the front of his chest and shoulders, trying to hold him back and redirect him. “Don’t look.”

“What’s going on?” He tried to peer around the others, all of whom either had their backs turned or looked at him mournfully. “Hey, what’s-” he tried to push past Robin, but Dustin rushed forward to help stop him, “-what the hell is going on?! Guys?!”

They all stood in a half circle around… something, he couldn’t see what. The kids and Nancy and Goddamn everyone except-

“YN,” Steve breathed out in realization. His heart was stuck in his throat, and the pounding of his own blood drowned out the quiet whispers of the others. “No. No, no, no, no—NO!” He shoved past the pairs of arms, pushing past a tearful Max and a sobbing Eleven, only to feel his whole body flinch back at the sight. 

“YN,” he whispered again, horrified at the sight, not wanting to believe it. “Oh God, oh fuck, oh God.”

Blood was- was everywhere. Steve’s knees wobbled and gave out as he collapsed into the forest floor beside you. His hands hovered over your body, feeling the heat rolling off it in waves from the gushes of hot, crimson liquid seeping from obscured wounds. A pool of it, he realized, dampened the knees of his jeans, cooling against his skin. 

“Steve,” you whimpered, “I’m scared. It hurts so bad.” You trembled, hands curled into tight fists as you clenched your eyes shut, tears trailing down into your sweat-soaked hair. 

“This isn’t right—you can’t… fuck.” He tore a hand through his brown tufts before springing into action, scraping himself along the damp soil to ease his legs underneath your back, your body lying perpendicular to his so he could lean your head in his lap. 

“YN, I…” he trailed off, gasping for air as his wavering hands encompassed your face. “I don’t know what to do,” he choked out helplessly. 

And you reached up to grasp his wrist, eyes so innocent and terrified. “Steve, please, I don’t wanna die.”

“This was never supposed to happen,” he rambled indignantly. “No no no because I was supposed to protect you because I always protect you, and now this is going so, so fucking wrong.” He felt the oncoming headache that arrived with fresh tears, the snot dribbling down his nose and onto his upper lip, the cold sweat that covered his body head to toe. He wanted to throw up and sob and hold you close and tight and never, never fucking let you go. 

His own heart, as you lay in his arms, was being ripped from his chest. No help was coming, there was no time to heal or press on what was already far too damaged to halt. You were… you were…

“Please,” you wailed, your screams echoing into the forest. He could hear the others shuffling around behind him, their own sobs fading into the mix. “No, please, I don’t wanna die! Steve, please!”

Steve could feel your cheeks getting colder, and he watched as your hands slowly began to unfurl at your sides. “YN, I’m so sorry. Don’t leave me, I can’t-” his own whimper cut himself off. 

“Steve,” you gasped for breath, your voice so small, so weak. “You said you would protect me.” The furrow in your brow smoothed itself out, and your chest began to slow its heaving movements. 

“I know, I know,” he weeped. “I love you so much, please don’t leave me.”

“You love me?” you whispered back. Your eyes, that had been locked on his for so long, filled with fear and anguish, shifted away, losing themselves in the black sky above. A small smile broke out on your bloodstained lips. 

“YN?” Steve questioned fearfully, sniveling as he peeled the hair away from your face. 

“I never knew that you loved me, Steve.” A single tear broke loose from your eyelids as you let them droop closed. “I love…” You mouthed the word you before you sighed, your body finally losing all of its tension, its stress—its fear.

Steve let out a quivering breath, his hands cupping your cheeks swiftly. “YN? YN?!”

“Steve.” A hand pressed on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off viciously. 

“YN!” He peeled back your eyelids, blanching at the blank look in your irises. “No, no, come on, I was supposed to protect you!” he cried out hysterically. 

Steve’s body curled over yours like he was collapsing in on himself, mouth mumbling pleas as he slid a hand over your chest, above your heart. 

Nothing.

“Steve!” The hand on his shoulder was more insistent, shaking him back and forth violently. 

No. He wasn’t going to leave you. Not now, not yet.

“Steve, wake up!”

“What?” Steve’s eyes flew open, and his head straightened up from the back of the couch, causing Dustin to yelp and jump back in shock. 

“Jesus, what the fuck?!” the younger boy screeched, leaving Steve wincing and pressing two hands to his ears. 

“Goddamn,” he hissed, “You really need to hit puberty faster; these voice cracks of yours are gonna leave me deaf one of these days.”

“Well it’s not my fault you sleep like a bear in hibernation.”

“Ew, what? That's disgusting, Dustin,” Steve grimaced. 

Dustin facepalmed. “You’re thinking of ‘heat,’ genius, I said ‘hibernation.’”

Steve faltered, nodding absentmindedly. “Oh.”

“Yeah, anyways,” he rolled his eyes, “you better head home.”

“Movie night over already?” Steve dug his palms against his eyes, trying harshly to wipe away the image of—er, that happening to you—from his mind. 

“Uh, yeah,” Dustin deadpanned, “Princess Leia changed out of her bikini about two hours ago, but I’m glad you were paying attention.”

“Well, look, if it makes you feel any better, the dream I just had was terrible,” Steve groaned, rising up from the coach and grabbing his jacket off the coffee table. 

“Yeah, I heard. Something about ‘oh no’ and ‘don’t leave’ and ‘YN, YN, YN.’” The tween rolled his eyes. “Dude, if you ask me, I’d say just ask her out already, ‘cause your pining from a distance is getting pretty depressing.”

Steve stared at him with pursed lips and blank, dead eyes. 

Then he fondled for his car keys in his jacket pocket and huffed. “Yep, I’m gonna go. See ya around, Henderson.”

“I’m serious, Steve!” Dustin called after him. “It’s getting creepy! Why don’t you just tell her that you’re absolutely whipped for-”

Steve slammed the door of his house, trekking towards his car while grumbling under his breath. “Frickin’ Dustin. I’m not whipped. Nobody,” he slid into the seat of his car, staring into the rearview mirror and adjusting it, “nobody has ever had me…” he paused, staring at his bloodshot eyes, at his tear-stained cheeks. 

“Fuck.” He glanced back at Dustin’s house, its windows still open and flashing with the action of a movie.

Goddammit, Henderson. 

Steve put his car into drive, pulling out of the driveway and onto the street, but when he slowed at his usual turn, he slammed the brakes on the car instead and stared at the sign of the intersecting street. 

You lived almost two blocks from there—Steve never realized that. 

He could—no, no he couldn’t. It was the middle of the night, around eleven o’clock according to his dash, so why in the world did he have the right to wake you up for news like that?

It can wait. His feelings can wait.

He said those exact words ten more times as he drove to your house, clumsily throwing it into park alongside the sidewalk in front of your home. He knew which window corresponded with your room, as aside from being the group babysitter and helicopter mother, he was also the chauffeur. 

“This is stupid,” he muttered to himself as he stepped out of his car, slamming the door shut. “This is so dumb; this is a terrible idea. One of the worst, actually.” 

But he picked up the pebble out of your garden and chucked it at your window anyway, pure adrenaline launching the rock at a high speed and making perfect contact with the middle of the glass.

It also left a sizable crack.

“Oh shit,” Steve hissed under his breath, hands flying up to his hair as he saw your light switch on. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The window slid up, and before he knew it, your glare found his form. Your head was leaned outside of the window, hands braced against the sill as you whisper-shouted at him. “Seriously, Steve?! What the fuck?!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he jogged closer to your house, questioning scaling the side to climb into your window, but then he noticed your tangled, matted hair and nightshirt. “Yeah, that’s my bad, I, uh,” he chuckled nervously, “sometimes I forget my own strength.” He shrugged lamely. 

You gestured angrily at the window. “How the hell am I supposed to fix this?”

This is going so wrong. Dammit, he knew this wouldn’t go well. 

“YN,” he called out to you, trying to get your attention as you investigated the crack with a sigh. 

“What, genius? Got another grand idea?” you snarked. “Why don’t you go break the locks off my front door too while you're at it-”

“YN, I’m in love with you.”

You choked on your next words, eyes flying open. “What?!”

“I’m just- I’m in love with you, and I really wanted you to know that.”

While he shifts back and forth on his feet, your mouth bobs open and closed. 

“Are you serious?” you finally land on. 

“Don’t call me Shirley?” he offered back lamely, and you dragged a hand down the front of your face. 

Nonetheless, you wore a wide, abashed grin. “You’re a goddamn fool, Steve Harrington.”

Steve shook his head and smiled at that. “Only for you, babe.”

“Now go home and go to sleep so I can kiss you tomorrow, dumbass,” you waved him away. 

A stupid, lovesick smirk took over his face, painting him the absolute dope you always pegged him as. “Sounds like a plan, doll.” He spun around, swallowing a large gulp of air and wondering if you could see the way his hands shook as he unlocked his car. 

“Steve! Wait!”

 He turned back, almost too eager, to see a large blush blooming on your face in the light of your room. “I love you too.”

What a horrible, terrible, shitty-ass, perfectly timed nightmare.

Yandere bokuto the one that will look at you with puppy eyes everytime you need to go out to get something begging you to stay and cuddle

“Bokuto, let me uppp.”

“No,” he tightens his hold around your waist, burying his face deeper into your neck, “not happening.”

When you finally slip off the couch, he gives you the saddest puppy dog eyes, lips pouting. “Babyyyyy, please stay?”

“I-” you sigh, “fine.” He doesn’t say another word, only whooping and tugging you back onto the cushions. He plops himself on top of you this time so there’s really no point in trying to escape, every limb of his trapping your own smaller version to the couch. The hair on his head tickles your chin as he shoves his face against your throat.

“This is where you belong, YN.”

Practice Makes Perfect (Tsukishima x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: There’s nothing wrong with preparing to ask out the guy you like. Just make sure you don’t have an audience while you do it.

A/N: Hey guys, I’ve been going through a rough patch recently, so I’m sorry if I disappointed any of you by not posting. I’ll try to get back on the wagon soon, I promise. Here’s an imagine I got an idea for from this prompt by @otpdisaster​. I hope you guys like it!

Word count: 1115

        You’ve been at it for a while now. The bathroom was empty and silent; perfect for your test runs during lunch hour. The lights occasionally flickered and created a buzz that was mind-numbing, but you couldn’t complain. 

       “Hey Tsukishima… I like your… eyes? No! God YN, that’s terrible.” You shook your head at yourself in the mirror before trying one more time. This round, you bit your lip and fluttered your eyelashes. 

       “Hey there, Tsukki,” you pucker your lips slightly, “I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me this Friday?” Your reflection was an abomination; you looked halfway constipated. 

       “Ughhhh, this is a nightmare!” Turning on the sink, you splash some cold water in your face before bracing your hands against the porcelain. There was still a light in your eyes, and the longer you looked at yourself, the more beauty you seemed to find. Something about today made you feel ready. Ready to ask out the boy you’d been crushing on for years now. 

       “No, no YN! You can do this!” You nodded at yourself reassuringly and smiled. Pearly whites shown through thanks to weeks of strips. Every strand of hair on your head was about as in place as they could be. Your lips were soft and freshly chapsticked, and for once in your life, you felt attractive in your school uniform. “I can do this,” you whispered once more before turning away from the mirror. 

       With a dramatic hair flip, you turned back to your reflection with a smirk and a sultry voice. “Are you a parking ticket?” You raised a suggestive brow, “Because you’ve got fine written all over you.” Nope. With a pouty sigh, you smack your palm against your forehead. 

       “Why do I suck at thissss?” No response, which led you to be simultaneously pissed off and relieved. You wanted help, but not from anybody conscious in society. Running a hand through your strands, you huff and throw your head back, staring at the ceiling as if it would guide you. Then, you shake your body out like a wet dog and return your gaze to the glass, slamming one hand on your popped-out hip to emphasize your curves, however nonexistent they were. 

       “Hey sexy.” Cue eyebrow waggle. “You, me, the movies. Eight o’ clock, don’t be late- Nope, nope, nope.” Your cheeks were trying to beat the sun, you just knew it. They burned and mimicked the colors of tomatoes. But somewhere, deep down at the bottom of your gut, you just didn’t want to give up. 

       “Please go out with me!” Hands clasped together in a begging motion, you pouted. Too wussy.

       “Hey you!” You pointed a finger accusingly, “Go out with me! Or else!” Too threatening.

       “I’ll buy you some candy if you go out with me,” you bargained with wide, desperate eyes. Too child-kidnappy. 

       “I don’t suppose you’ve noticed my, uhh, mandatory school uniform.” You trailed a hand down the side of your body awkwardly. “It’s made of,” you deepen your voice and narrow your eyes, “girlfriend material.” Too serial killerish.

       “Would you like to be my precious?” you rasped, scratching up your throat. Too Gollumy.

       “Fuck, this is never gonna work!” Throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation, you release a roar that could tremble the internal organs of your enemies before-

       “Ha! I got it! He plays volleyball!” You hop out of your self-deprecating groove instantly with one single, genius idea. Body wiggling excitedly, you delve into your backpack and snatch your phone. Google is such a wonderful resource. 

       “If I was a volleyball, I’d let you hit me all day…” you read aloud before glancing back up at yourself and shaking your head. “I’m desperate, but I’m not that desperate.” Minutes passed, and you test-ran through a couple more lines until you finally found it. The one.

       “Do you play volleyball?” Eyes glowing victoriously, you beamed at the mirror, “Because I sure dig you!” The vandalized, STD-infested high school restroom stays silent, but it didn’t deter you. Your heart pangs with excitement, and you knew you were ready. 

       “It’s perfect!” You were about to high-five yourself, but a muffled snicker interrupted you. The beating in your chest stops for a second and you burst into a cold sweat. Oh crap, who’s there?!

       “H-hello?” You grab your backpack and raise it in front of you. “Who is it? Who’s there?” The last person you wanted to see steps into the women’s bathroom, smug smirk and all. 

       “I don’t know, I kind of liked the Lord of the Rings one.” He shrugs. “Your impression was spot on.” Your throat constricts and you struggle to breathe, let alone respond.

       “Why are you here?” you choke out, hiding your clammy palms behind your back. 

       “The teacher sent me to ask if you were okay. Guess she thought you fell in.” Everything about Tsukishima screams ‘smug.’ Before you liked him, it pissed you off. Then it became endearing. And now it makes you want to crawl into a hole and die. 

       “So, how much did you hear?” 

       “About five minutes before the Optimus Prime impression.”

       “Oh God!” You hide your face into your hands and groan exasperatedly. “You heard all of that?!” He chuckles before nodding, eyes glowing arrogantly behind his frames. 

       “Most of it wasn’t half-bad, though.” You peek between your fingers. 

       “Really?”

       “Yeah,” he licks his lips while crossing his arms. “Give one a try.” Brows furrowed in confusion, you open and close your mouth repeatedly like a fish until he explains further.

       “I promise you’ll like the outcome.” There’s this weird look on his face. It’s not angry, or cocksure. He doesn’t look like he’s about to ream your ass or point out all the mistakes you’ve made in your life. It looks almost like… a smile. And a reassuring one at that. Your eyes widen at the sight before a lop-sided grin grows on your face. 

       “All right,” you nod nonchalantly, but your eyes flicker with excitement, “which one do you wanna hear first?”

       “Hmm, how about my favorite of yours so far: goose in the park looking for a Tsukishima-shaped bread crumb?”

AN  EASY GUIDE TO BTS

JIN

KIM SEOKJIN

RM

KIM NAMJOON

SUGA

MIN YOONGI

JHOPE

JUNG HOSEOK

JIMIN

PARK JIMIN

V

KIM TAEHYUNG

JUNGKOOK

JEON JUNGKOOK

By @mimibtsghost​

Hello! It’s currently 1 am here and I just finished binge reading the reborn series and I’m just here to say I loved it and it entertained me so much! can I be on the taglist so I get notified when there’s a part six? Thank you :DD

Agdjhdakjd stayin’ up all night just to read fanfiction gang, where ya at?

Anyways, thank you so much! I’m really glad so many people are enjoying it! I’ll for sure put you on the official tag list!

Yandere ozai?

Yandere Ozai Headcanons

*GIF not mine*

A/N: Should I start watching Hunter x Hunter? Sorry, that was random. Anyways, just wanna warn you these hcs are a lil out of order, and I’m sorry. When I wrote it, I just kept coming up with more and more ideas for the “story” so I just kept adding to it. Anyways, hope you like it!

Word count: 956

First of all, you’re a maid in the castle. Yeah, of course he’s seen you in the halls and thought you were attractive, but he never really gave it more thought. 

Then Zuko and Azula’s mother left, and that’s when he got hooked on you. He felt lost and you, being the ever-faithful servant, stayed by his side and comforted him. 

(We are talking about adults here. You did have sex with him for “comfort.”)

Anyways, after that, you had sealed your fate. While you tried to get on with your life, Ozai wasn’t as forgetful. 

Honestly, I think this guy is one of those yanderes who initially don’t want to admit or believe they love you.

Like first, he’ll try other concubines. Women who will bow down to him and such. 

Then he’ll finally resort to keeping you near, allowing you to continue being a maid and such (because he initially planned on kicking you to the curb after your night together), but he still doesn’t like that he likes you. 

Part of him just feels… addicted. Like he doesn’t want to lose you. But he doesn’t like having that attachment. 

Honestly, he’ll want to blame his obsession on you, like make you feel bad for it and stuff. 

He’ll keep trying to show off with other women in the castle. 

Making out with them during breakfast and such while you’re serving them and you’re just standing around like “did you want eggs or…”

Then, at some point, he doesn’t exactly give in to his feelings, but he understands that as the leader of the world, it doesn’t matter who he’s with. 

Ozai’s not really self-concious of you ruining his image; if anything, he kinda wants to use you to flaunt how he can transform someone from rags to riches. 

At that point, he’s really fallen for you. He’s on the verge of taking over the world, his rebelling son is still banished, and he’s about to take over the last city that stands a chance against him: Ba Sing Se.

It’s a toss up of whether he wants to flaunt his world to you or to flaunt you to his world. 

You better treat everything he does like it’s amazing. Seriously, this guy is pure ego. 

If he gifts you something (which is something he does often), you must always repay him. Whether this is sexual or compassionate just depends on his moods. 

Maybe I’m wrong about this, but I really don’t think Ozai is the type of yandere to be like “you should feel blessed to be with me,” especially after he’s fallen for you. Initially? Yeah sure, he may have thought that a few times. But after he’s acknowledged the fact that he can’t let you go, I don’t think he’d rub his love in your face too much. He’d be more obsessed with showing you what he can do. 

You’re his world now, and giving you the entire world is his perfect gift. 

In the end, of course he’s captured for attempting to do this, and his third or fourth thought is “oh shit, where’s YN?”

He orders the last of all the Ozai loyalists to capture you and, I’ll be frank, he wants you to go out “together even in death” style. 

With a forced kiss, he’ll make you drink poison in his cell while he holds you in his arms (he ignores your struggling and crying). After the life has faded from your body, he takes his own swig and you go out together. 

Anyways, back to before all of this (sorry this is so out of order) right after you had sex with him to comfort his wife leaving, I think he more fell for you because you symbolized a new hope for him. 

He had made you feel so good that night. Deep down, he wanted to keep making you feel that good. 

Ozai wanted to prove to you but mostly himself that he could keep a woman and please her. He wanted his ex-wife to regret leaving him, so he was going to give you the world. 

Getting right back into it, he is a crazed king, mind you, so he will use his power for self-gain. If you’re talking to someone, no matter the gender, he’s going to banish them.

(Of course if they touch you, their life is the price of their misdeed.)

You, on the other hand, are also forced to take responsibility for your mistakes. 

It’s not uncommon that he’ll lock you away to keep you from interacting with others, but if you’re wrong-doings are especially horrible, whippings and burnings are not uncommon. (Plus, he likes the sight of his fire touching and permanently marking your skin. It’s like a physical claim no one, not even you, can get rid of. It keeps you knowing your place.)

There’s really no list of rules Ozai has set for you, but they’ve become clear to you over the years you’ve been with him.

1: No contact with others.

2: Always repay your lord for his kindness.

3: Bow when he enters and leaves a room.

4: Give him a kiss or more whenever he acknowledges your presence.

5: Never disobey an order from your master.

Truly, being with Ozai is quite simple: learn your place and no one gets hurt.

I love the yandere zuko headcannon so much that I read it almost every day

Yayyy thank you! I’m so glad there are Yandere atla lovers out there bc lets be honest, there’s a serious lack in those types of fics😔 thank you so much for the love!🥰💜💜

Some days I’m diNg dOnGgG, and some days I’m just drinking a cup of milk, u know

that “ding-dong” glow up