fandoms im interested in (mostly games): ff7, persona, danganronpa
i may try to post sth in the future if i am motivated (and have time) like fics, drawings,.. stuff like that. for now, i prefer chillinâ and enjoying other blogsđĽšË˘âąâżáśáľ âąáľ ˢáľËĄáś -áśáľâżË˘áśâąáľáľË˘
i like shitposting
english is my 2nd language
and i hope to make some new friends too!! (its been awhile since i had onl friends, plus i yearn for friends who are in the same fandomđ)
A high-pitched laugh echoed through the training yard, a sharp, breathless, and completely uncontrollable laugh.
You stood a few steps away, holding a clean towel and a water bottle, watching Zanka cover his face with both hands. His shoulders were shaking violently. Every time he tried to pull his hands away to look at you, a fresh wave of intense blush hit his face, and he was once again overcome by a fit of breathless giggles.
"Zanka? Are you okay?" you asked, taking a step toward him. "Did I say something wrong?"
"N-No!" he squealed, his voice cracking slightly. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to channel his usual stern, battle-ready demeanor. "It's just... you can't just say things like that out of the blue! It's not fair!"
You blinked in disbelief. All you had done was hand him his water and mention how amazing his technique looked during today's session. You had specifically praised the fluid precision of his attacks, noting how his intense dedication made him look utterly captivating and reliable every time he wielded Assistaff. You meant every word, but you hadn't expected the usually stoic Zanka Nijiku to completely melt into a sea of giggles.
"But it's true," you said, a small smile playing on your lips. "You really are the most reliable person here. You're amazing, Zanka."
He let out another loud, stifled gasp behind his hands, his ears turning a bright crimson that contrasted hilariously with his hair.
"Stop! Stop it!" he laughed, the sound bubbling from his chest. He took a deep breath, trying to maintain a tough expression, but the moment he made eye contact with you, his lips trembled, forming a wide, goofy grin. "A-Amazing? Me? I mean, just an average guy? But... hehe... do you really think I look fascinating?"
"I do," you teased gently, invading his personal space. Zanka was practically vibrating with nervous energy, his tough-guy persona completely shattered by a few sincere words. He buried his face in the towel you gave him, letting out a series of muffled, joyful giggles that warmed your heart.
Do I look like him you? (request) Art by remonucha
Zanka had accepted the chemical and dye scent emanating from your room as part of your charm and chaotic attitude.
Every few weeks, you transformed into a completely new canvas. He had learned to decipher your ever-changing identity by the color of your roots, loving the vibrant transition from neon blues to pastel purples.
When you first met Rudo, you sported a striking head of bubblegum pink hair. You leaned forward, letting your bright locks fall as you surveyed the reserved and intense boy, flashing him a warm smile that instantly made him shift uncomfortably. Zanka watched your every move from the sidelines, as you immediately tried to make the boy feel at home.
A few months passed, and your pink hair faded to a muted coral hue, signaling that it was time for a change. You spent an entire afternoon observing Rudo while the group relaxed, your eyes fixed on the unique and striking part in his hair.
"Your hair is great, Rudo," you blurted out, resting your chin on your palm. "The contrast is amazing. I think I'll give it a try."
Rudo blinked, turning a light pink, and mumbled something incoherent about how his hair was just like that.
Zanka, who was sitting nearby, tensed up. He glanced at Rudo's hair and then at you. A sudden, uncomfortable weight settled in his chest. Jealousy. He knew it was a ridiculous emotion, but seeing you so fixated on the Spherine's style wounded his pride.
The next day, you debuted the look. You had perfectly copied Rudo's exact pattern, making the striking contrast frame your face beautifully. When Rudo saw you, his eyes widened, and he gave you a rare, genuine smile, murmuring that it looked good on you.
Zanka, however, nearly choked on his drink. For the next three weeks, every time he looked at you, he was reminded of the guy who'd bathed him in poop. Every time you walked past a mirror and complimented your own hair, Zanka would mutter under his breath, cross his arms, and look away. He missed his girl, not the other version of Rudo. He wanted you to look at him with that same inspiration.
You weren't blind. You noticed how Zanka's jaw tightened whenever you mentioned hair dye, and how he'd stopped running his fingers through your hair when you sat together on the couch. Realizing you'd pushed his patience a little too far, you decided it was time for the next scheduled change, but with a very specific twist.
One rainy Tuesday, Zanka kicked open your bedroom door, exhausted after a long day of dealing with work. The room smelled strongly of hair dye again. He sighed, mentally preparing himself to see the look kept or changed to something more inspired by Rudo.
"Hey," you called from the bathroom. You came out, drying the ends of your freshly washed hair with a towel. Zanka froze, his boots glued to the floor.
The black tips were gone. In their place, your hair was dyed an identical reflection of Zanka's signature style, capturing the exact same tones and attitude he wore every day.
You looked at him through your damp bangs, a soft, teasing smile playing on your lips.
"What do you think? I think this style suits me way better."
Zanka's breath caught in his throat. The irritation that had been simmering for weeks melted instantly, replaced by a burning heat in his cheeks. He covered the lower part of his face with his hand, trying to hide the huge, goofy grin spreading across his face, but his bright red ears gave him away completely.
"You're such an idiot," he muttered huskily as he leaned closer and roughly pulled you against his chest, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Finally, he ran his fingers through your hair again, gripping the strands tightly. "Don't ever change it again. Leave it like this."
You laughed, wrapping your arms around his waist.
"Jealous jerk."
"Shut up," he growled affectionately, kissing the top of your head, finally satisfied that you were matching with the only guy who truly mattered.
bunnyboy!follo and catgirl!reader smut...and catgirl!reader teases follo for being such a soft little cottontail who's all squeak no nibble and he gets all flustered and tries to bite back but you always seem to know how to get his tongue! (you are a cat after all)
then you both go into heat and he's all subby but then it gets to the point he shuts his brain off and just fucks you until you both blackout at the same time...
Tw: Hurt, mentions of sh, mentions of blood, comfort
Zanka had always perceived you as a happy and calm person. Your presence always brought him comfort, and he was aware that it did the same for many of the people around you. You had many qualities he valued, and although he would never admit it out loud, he was deeply in love with you⌠and would never allow anything to hurt you.
But he would always blame himself for not noticing sooner.
ââ â ââ
The conversation among the team flowed as usual, like always, but something about your behavior began to feel out of place.
You kept glancing at the door repeatedly. You didnât seem to be paying attention to the conversation. You only laughed when someone said, âisnât that right, Y/N? Haha!â, and Zanka was almost certain you were on the verge of crying. He could tell by the way you blinked forcefully and how you kept bringing your hands to your forearms and your legs over and over again. Not to mention how hard it was to ignore the glassy shine in your eyes.
Zanka decided to ignore it, thinking it was just in his head. Maybe you were exhausted from todayâs mission and were just waiting for the moment to leave âhe did the same when he wanted to disappearâ but even so, the unease wouldnât leave him.
Finally, you stood up and walked out.
And even though he felt an almost unbearable urge to follow you, he chose not to.
That was his first mistake.
Zanka tried to keep up with the conversation naturally, but he simply couldnât focus. Something felt wrong, heavy, and he knew it. It felt familiar⌠like something he had experienced before⌠when Enjin found him in the pit.
He couldnât help but remember the way you touched your arms nervously, running your fingers along your forearms and pressing your hands tightly against your legs, as if somethingâ hurt.
Something in his head clicked. He didnât know exactly what, he just knew he had to find you.
âZanka? Where are you going?â Bro asked when he stood up, maybe a bit too quickly, from the table.
Zanka looked at everyone for a second. Several confused gazes were fixed on him. He blinked a couple of times, gripping his staff with a calm he didnât feel.
ââŚIâll clean Lovely.â
Without further explanation, he left the dining hall.
It was his second mistake to have waited so long.
ââ â ââ
He walked through almost the entire facility, looking for you. He went to your room first and knocked on the door several times. No answer.
He frowned slightly before opening the door. Empty.
His pulse quickened.
He turned on his heel, moving faster now. He thought of the gym⌠but then he heard it: a low, uneven sound.
A whimper.
It came from one of the hallway bathrooms.
Zanka froze in place.
For a second, he thought he had imagined it. His mind could play tricks on him, he knew that. He took a step forward to keep going, but he couldnât.
The feeling in his chest became unbearable, so he turned back.
He stood in front of the door and knocked twice, firmly.
âHey⌠uh⌠are you okay in there?â his voice came out more controlled than he felt. His expression, as always, remained stoic⌠but his eyes didnât.
âYes!â the response came too quickly, and too shaky. He recognized your voice immediately.
Zanka closed his eyes for a moment. âY/N.â
His hand pressed against the door.
âOpen it.â
âNoâ Iâm fine, reallyââ
âPlease.â he didnât raise his voice, he was too worried in that moment to get agitated.
There was another second of silence. Then, a clumsy, rushed sound: the lock giving way.
The door opened just a few centimeters, but it was enough for him. He let out a heavy breath and gently pushed, just enough to step inside.
The world stopped.
His gaze dropped.
Blood.
Your hands.
Your arms.
The air left his lungs.
He stood completely still for one, two seconds.
Too long.
ââŚWhat are you doing?â the question came out low. Cracked at a point that was barely noticeable.
You reacted immediately, trying to hide your arms against your body, stepping back.
âItâs nothingââ
âStop.â Zanka stepped forward firmly until he stood right in front of you.
His eyes stayed on you, avoiding looking down again⌠avoiding confirming what he had already seen.
âWhat happenedâŚ?â
You didnât answer. You didnât even try.
Your breathing was uneven. Your hands trembled.
âZanka, noâ itâs not what it looks likeââ
âThen tell me what it is.â
His voice remained low, controlled, but now there was something else in it.
Something that hurt.
You shook your head, pressing your lips together, as if any word would break you completely.
âI justââ
You broke.
Zanka clenched his fists.
He wasnât angry at you, he never would be.
He was angry at himself.
âI was there,â he muttered, more to himself than to you. âYou were right in front of me.â
He took another step.
His body nearly against yours as his hands lifted, not knowing where to place them or what to do, his staff forgotten against one of the bathroom walls behind him.
âAnd I didnât see it.â
You looked away, ashamed, trying to wipe your tears with the back of your hand.
âYou donât have toââ
âYes.â he interrupted immediately. Not harsh, just certain. âYes, I do.â
Silence fell between you, heavy. Zankaâs chest ached at the sight of you like thisâ how could he not have noticed before? You were always so happy, always showing your best face to everyone, supporting them unconditionally⌠but who was there for you?
Zanka exhaled slowly, as if trying to organize something he didnât know how to say.
âLet me see.â
âNoââ you refused immediately.
âY/N.â his tone shifted slightly. Softer.
Closer.
âLet me help you.â
You hesitated.
Your hands lowered just a little.
Zanka brought a hand to your arms, looking into your eyesâ red, teary, swollen. The most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, filled with pain.
âCan I?â
You nodded faintly.
But that small gesture was enough.
His fingers touched your wrist carefully, as if he feared hurting you more. He turned your arm slightly, observing without looking away this time.
He didnât say anything at first.
He just breathed slowly.
With his jaw tense.
ââŚThis is going to sting a little,â he murmured.
It wasnât said with cruelty or threat, his voice was filled with concern and he was doing everything he could to stay calm and not break down crying right there with you, he knew that wasnât what you needed in that moment.
He took what he needed, improvising with what was available in the bathroom. He cleaned carefully, with a precision that left no doubt: he had done this before.
The silence wasnât uncomfortable.
Your shoulders began to tremble.
And Zanka noticed, but didnât say anything right away.
He just finished bandaging carefully before speaking again.
âYou donât have to hide from me.â his words were soft.
You looked up, your eyes still wet.
ââŚI didnât want you to see it.â
Zanka held your gaze fully, for the first time.
âI know. But I already did.â there was no reproach, only a raw truth.
He lowered his gaze for a second, as if choosing his next words carefully.
âI donât understand everything.â admitting it wasnât easy for him. âBut⌠Iâm not going anywhere.â
Your lips trembled.
âZankaâŚâ
He hesitated just a little.
Then, carefully, he placed a hand on your shoulder.
He didnât pull you close abruptly, nor force you.
based on this nonnie request - hope you enjoy!! đŤś
pairing - enemies to lovers!zanka x fem!reader
contains - drunk / tipsy sex (consensual), hate sex, brat tamer zanka / bratty reader, mild degrading / dirty talk, spanking (like once), fingering, breast play, (sorta?) body worship, edging
wc - 1.3k
youâve always had this simmering, unspoken rivalry between yourself and the âaverage joeâ of Team Akuta, Zanka Nijiku. just getting under each otherâs skin, always bickering, the whole nine yards. since you joined the cleaners, heâs been at your throat, and vise versa.
but whoâs to say you canât find someone attractive if you hate them?
painful as it is to admit, heâs beautiful. sharp jawline, real intense eyes. if he wasnât such a prick all the time, you think youâd fall for him. but no. he goes out of his way to bother you. so itâs natural for you to retaliate, and give him hell back. itâs only fair.
well, fast forward. youâve been on this same hate train for a few months, when this new cleaner joins. heâs a Sphereite, too. so he steals the attention for a while, no big deal. you even find out through the grapevine that Zanka will be his mentor, to which you just mumble âthatâs rough..â
but this Sphere kid, Rudo, is so special that they end up throwing this welcome-to-the-ground party for him. on one hand, whatâs the hype? on the other hand, who would pass up an opportunity to party? just like Riyo said, itâs just an excuse for everyone to get wasted.
so you do exactly that.
but it looks like you arenât the only one with the idea. after a handful of shots and too much dancing, you slump down in a chair in a dim corner. to your drunk dismay, youâve plopped yourself down right next to Zanka. great.
âget lost.â
âno..you get lost.â
he just grumbles, no energy to argue further. youâre surprised him of all people got wasted, but who are you to judge?
after a few back and forth comments, you sorta just give up, and slump over, leaning onto his shoulder.
âthe fuck dâya think yer doing..?!â
he said, brows furrowed. you mumble back something thatâs slurred by the alcohol. after a second, you lift your head to look up at him. your thumb brushes the corner of his mouth.
âyou had something on your faceâŚâ
he was too stunned to speak. but that also meant he was stunned to deny the growing flush on his cheeks.
without thinking much - because why would you? - you moved your hand from lightly brushing the corner of his mouth to cupping his cheek fully. you lean forward with little to no hesitation, pressing your lips to his firmly. and before either of you know it, everythingâs blurred into the two of you making out. and then it snaps back - people can most definitely see you two right now. so the solution?
you pretend youâre fighting. itâs normal, usual, expected. except you arenât dragging him by the collar to a storage closet for the sole purpose of sparringâŚ
the door shuts, and Zanka backs up against the wall, squished in as youâre trying to figure out the lock. youâre about to panic about the risk of being caught when he gets impatient. he grabs your waist, spins you around and crashes his lips onto yours.
any worries about the others simmer away as your mouth moves against his with a desperate fervor thatâs been built up for months. the locked away thoughts of âiâm so mad heâs fineâ finally coming to light now that you know neither of you care.
he barely pulls away to tug your shirt over your head, leaning back a little just to admire.
âhard to hate ya with tits like these..â
he mutters, leaning forward again to kiss you, hard and quick and honestly a little messy, with your back pressed against some boxes. but he canât help but pull away again to just look down at his favorite sight - he swears his mouth must be watering.
âf-fuck, they..sit so perfect,â
he whispers, as if your breasts are some holy grail that he just canât take his eyes off of. his hands find their way to your back to unclasp your bra, the only thing holding him back.
once itâs finally off, he starts to leave warm open-mouthed kisses all across your chest, wherever his lips can reach. he groans against the soft skin while his hand kneads the other breast. his free hand glides along your stomach once, then down, until his fingertips finally brush just barely underneath the waistband of your pants.
he looks up at you, and when he sees you - biting down on your lip and holding onto the boxes behind you eagerly - heâs told all he needs to know. his hand dips down, under your jeans and straight to your clothed core. his fingers brush your panties, and his breath catches.
âyer nasty..â he says, looking back up at you, face a little scrunched up. âthis wet? already?? didnât even do anythinâ yetâŚâ
but itâs not like a drop stops him from wanting to explore an ocean.
he frantically unbuttons your pants, and tugs them down in one quick pull along with your panties. he pushes you back a little, so youâre sitting on one of the stacked boxes, legs up. he pushes your thighs up so your legs are in the air.
âhold âem.â
he instructs firmly. you hook your hands on the backs of your knees, keeping your legs suspended like he said. heâs not wasting a second, taking off his shirt just to shove it in your mouth before diving right in.
the shirt was a good idea, judging by the whine that leaves your lips once he plunges two fingers into you. no teasing, no warm-up. just straight into it like heâs rushing in to kill a trash beast.
âbe quiet, will ya?â he tsks, pulling his fingers out real slow before shoving them back in. he starts to piston his fingers in and out of you rapidly, curling them up so perfectly to put pressure on the top of your spongy walls. heâs getting an earful of your beautifully muffled moans and whimpers, so thatâs only encouraging him to be more of a little shit.
âyeah? there?â he asks almost tauntingly, because the moment you nod desperately, he pulls his fingers out halfway, and starts applying pressure there. itâs the wrong spot, the wrong angle, not deep enough. and he knows that, you can see it on his face.
you try to buck your hips up, and squirm a little bit so he has to go deeper. that backfires, earning you a smack on the thigh.
âwho dâya think you are, hm?â he sneers, slowing his fingers to a stop. he gives them a few more weak thrusts of his hand before pulling it out, and rubbing the same two fingers down hard on your clit. he watched as your body jerked from that one touch, the reaction you gave.
and without letting you cum at all, he decided he was done. you couldâve slapped him if your mind wasnât all fogged up.
he takes his shirt from your mouth, slipping it back on without a care in the world for your saliva on some bits. he wipes his fingers off on his pants, and bends down to pick up your discarded clothes to help you get dressed. your hands have long since left your legs, and youâre sitting upright on the box, still naked.
âi didnât even cum yet, i wasnât even close..!â you protest weakly. all youâre met with?
âi know,â
he sounded so calm it was infuriating. until he added,
âmeans ya gotta come see me another time to pick up where we left off, right?â
oh. that changes things.
âyeah..right.â you nod, reaching down to your lap where heâs put your clothes. you clasp your bra back on while he slides your panties up your legs, zero regard for the wetness there. then was your pants, then your shirt.
âiâm leaving first. wait a few minutes, so it donât look weird, mâkay?â he said quietly. but before he left?
this boy had the nerve to go over, cup the side of your face, and kiss your cheek before he left without another word.
love is so confusing- love?? no, it definetly wasnât love. definetly not towards Zanka. but..after tonight, the word hate didnât feel fitting anymoreâŚ
Imagine you're eating a slice of your favorite cake (chocolate, please). Zanka is sitting next to you, eating a slice of carrot or vanilla cake, because the simpler, the bette...then suddenly a little frosting gets on the corner of your mouth, and Zanka, in a burst of courage and lust takes your cheeks in his hands and kisses you so intensely that you're left breathless, only to finish by saying, "I wanted to savor It"
"If you were the one beside me, I would've been happier."
Zanka Masterlist. Enjin Ver.
In the Nijiku household, âloveâ is expressed differently, or should you say, it was never even expressed at all.
Everyone in his family seems to avoid it like the plague.
Zanka found himself doing the same thing, building a wall himself for that one word.
But of course, no matter how disciplined a person can beâtemptation will always be present.
Testing the very foundation of his so-called fortress.
And you, his best friend, is the exact epitome of what he desperately tries to avoid.
Your presence sets his thoughts on fire, a sudden beat he canât control. He steals a glance, caught in a trance, as every detail grips his soul.
Zanka told himself that you're "dangerous".
Dangerous because he's frightened of the consequences of letting himself love.
Dangerous because whatever he sets his whole soul and heart toâhe always fails.
Dangerous because you're all that his wall needed to collapse.
So when you told him one night after a missionâwhen you're both all alone in the common roomâthat you love him?
His breath stuttered, his pulse fluttered, but your heart, he shattered.
Instead of warmth spreading across his cheeks at the confession, his face darkened.
Eyes turning a deeper shade of blue, like the deep, deep seas.
Beautiful in a way that drowned your already pained heart.
His rejection wasn't immediate, but the shift of emotion and body language is enough as a sign.
Zanka awkwardly rubs his neck, three slit brows furrowing as he stares at the ground instead, before giving a hundred excuses as to why it'd never work.
But he never denied that he feels the same.
You argued, pointed out what was obvious, and told him to face what he feels.
Zanka decided to walk away rather than listening to what was actually true.
And up until this day, Zanka still regrets that decision.
Because, maybe, he would've been happier by your side as you embraced and told him that his efforts were enough.
Maybe, he would've been happier at your side as you make him feel the love that his family had always lacked.
Maybe, Zanka would've been happier sitting by your side as you showed him what love really was all about.
Selfish, he was.
Now, he can't help but question himself.
What's the point of becoming the better version of himself when you're not here anymore to see it for yourself?
What's the point of it all; when instead of feeling you beside him, here you are, sat beside someone else that would never be him.
I love making Zanka suffer in my angst fics, I'll write one where it's the reader tho
I love the concept of fem Zanka looking just like male Zanka. The only thing that'd be different is her hair would be just a tiny bit longer.
Cause we don't need to make dramatic changes when genderbending a character, especially for someone like Zanka who already has a rather gender neutral look to them. Zanka could go by any pronouns and it would work.
"That's enough," Zanka grumbled for the th time. You ignored him and continued playing with his long earrings. "Hey!!"
"Hey," you replied with a mischievous smile, and the way his face transformed from annoyance to embarrassment would haunt you for the rest of your days. He pulled away, trying to cover his face, now flushed crimson.
"Stop bothering me."
"I'm not bothering you," you leaned toward him, putting almost all your weight on him. "I'm being affectionate, baby." He stopped the second your hand landed on his waist.
"Someone's going to see us." He didn't even try to break free from your grip; he even seemed to enjoy it. Zanka glanced around before placing his hands on your sides. "Stop playing around."
"I see." You moved even closer, your hand sliding under his shirt, gently caressing his abs, your lips dangerously brushing against his. "But you like it when I do this, don't you?"
He didn't answer; instead, he clung to you, pulling you even closer. You knew he was fighting with all his might not to kiss you. When your lips were close enough, you pulled away.
"You're right, someone might see us," you said, getting up from the couch and leaving him lying there. He blinked countless times before collapsing completely onto his back with a heavy sigh.
"Stop playing with me!" you heard him shout as you left the room.
