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marahuyomae · 2 years

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Feat. Hanemiya Kazutora [CANON], Female! Y/N [INSERT]

Genre/s: Angst, Psychological Horror, Young Adult Fiction, hints of Romance

Warning/s: Age-Gap Relationship (both are consenting adults), Contains Dark Content like Murder, Dub-Con Incestuous Relationships, Gaslighting, Manipulation, and hints of Grooming.

Date Published: October 7, 2022 [] Word Count: 2404 words

[Masterlist]

Dr. Kazutora Hanemiya, a soft-spoken, mild-mannered, cool-tempered Shibuya guy, was still fancy-free at 35 when he returned to Tokyo, after six years abroad. Then, at the University of Tokyo, where he went to teach, he met [Name] [Last Name], a medical intern.

"Professor, I have a quick question." the [H/C]-haired female approached her professor with a few small quick steps as she tries to catch up to him in the almost neverending hallway.

"Do you need something little one?" the 35-year-old professor asked calmly as he stared at the young woman's beauty. "Well, I can't seem to comprehend the reason why this...."

"Woah! Woah! The subject is already done, right? You can still take a break for a moment. You have to loosen up, how about we tackle the topics you can't seem to understand later this weekend?"

A small study session, became a study date, that study date became a hangout, and it finally became a date, as they enjoy each other's company. He liked her quiet ways and began to date her steadily.

"This may sound weird for a professor to tell his student, but I like you [Name] please go out with me."

The 23-year-old female looked at him with wide eyes, "But don't you think it is still too early? What if we'll both mess this up?" she asked in a worried manner.

"Don't worry, I'll date you now. But I'll court and cherish you forever. I am gonna use all my time in the world, just to get to know you. And I would be eager to give you all the love you deserve."

They went to the movies and to basketball games and he took her a number of times to his house in the Kanto region, to meet his family. [Name] was then only 23 and looked like a sweet unspoiled girl, but there was a slight air of mystery about her. Kazutora and his friends noticed that she almost never spoke of her home life or her childhood; she seemed to have no happy early memories to share with her lover, as sweethearts usually crave to do. And whenever it looked as if she might have to stay out late, she would say: "I'll have to tell my father first". And off she would go, wherever she was, to tell her father, though it meant going all the way to Osaka, where she lived with her parents in a new house on Shinsaibashi-suji Shopping Street.

"Loves, I might need to go back." the gentle [E/C] eyes of the female stared at her lover's energetic sandy-colored eyes. "But Loves, it's getting late. How about you'll try to stay here for now? have a vacant room here." Kazutora tried to convince her, afraid to let her go.

His desires to stay there and just hold each other, made his pleads more desperate. Not wanting to let his lover's warmth fade and see her go.

"Look, Dear... I know that we both want to stay like this. But my parents would be worried if I can't go back home." With that said, he then looked at his lover go as the night became darker.

The former delinquent friend group understood that she was an only child and that her parents were, therefore, over-zealous in looking after her. Her father usually took her to school and fetched her after classes, and had been known to threaten to arrest young men who stared at her on the streets or pressed too close against her on car or bus rides. This high-handedness seemed natural enough, for [Father's Name] [Last Name], [Name]'s father was a member of the Osaka Police Department.

"What if Kazutora threatened her girlfriend that her grades will drop if ever she doesn't agree on dating him?" Kazushi jokingly said as they all tried to converse with each other.

"Hey! That's not true! I asked for her consent before we started dating! What made you think that I would do that?!" Kazutora looked at him offendedly. The circle of friends only snickered as an answer.

Takemichi then added, "What if she was scared of you? That is why she does not have any intentions of staying at your place?"

"Guys!!" They all laughed and hollered together.

After [Name] finished her internship, Kazutora Hanemiya became a regular visitor at the house on Shinsaibashi-suji Shopping Street: he was helping her prepare for the board exams. Her family seemed to like him. The mother, [Mother's Name], struck him as a mousy woman unable to speak save at her husband's bidding. There was a foster son, a little boy named Kuro the [Last Name]s had adopted. As for [Father's Name] [Last Name], he was a fine strapping man, an Osaka guy, who gave the impression of being taller than he was and looked every inch an agent of the law: full of brawn and guts and force and smoldering with vitality. He was a natty dresser, liked youthful colors and styles, decorated his house with pictures of himself, and, at 50, looked younger than his inarticulate wife, who was actually two years younger than he.

The young vet looked at [Name]'s Father straight in the eyes, "Hello sir, I am here to visit your daughter. May I please see her at the moment?" he politely asked as he gave a plastic bag filled with snacks for [Name]'s family.

The older [Last Name] looked at him brightly with a smile on his face, "Of course! Of course! My sweet angel must be waiting for you! Come inside! Go on! I am pleased to see you, my little princess talks about you a lot." [Name]'s father let him in with happiness.

When Kazutora started frequenting the house on Shinsaibashi-suji Shopping Street.

One night, at a family dinner where Kazutora was invited by the Family. [Father's Name] told him: "I'll be frank with you. None of [Name]'s male friends ever lasted ten minutes in this house. I didn't like them and I told them so and made them get out." Then he added laying a hand on the young vet's shoulder: "But I like you. You are a good man." The young vet's heart swelled with pride hearing that.

The rest of the household were two very young maids who spoke almost no Japanese, and two very fierce dogs, chained to the front door in the daytime, unchained in the front yard at night. The house of Shinsaibashi-suji Shopping Street is in the current architectural cliché: the hoity-toity Japanese split-level suburban style—a half-story perched above the living area, to which it is bound by the slope of the roof and which it overlooks from a balcony so that a person standing in the living room can see the doors of the bedrooms and bathroom just above his head. The house is painted, as is also the current fashion, in various pastel shades, a different color to every three or four planks. The inevitable piazza curves around two sides of the house, which has a strip of lawn and a low wall all around it. The [Last Name]s did not keep a car, but the house provides for an eventual garage and driveway. This, and the furniture, the shell lamps, and the fancy bric-a-brac that clutters the narrow house indicate that the [Last Name]s had not only risen high enough to justify their split-level pretensions but were expecting to go higher.

"I don't like that young lad at all. He must think so highly of himself by now." An old couple whispered to one another. No one was able to hear them on the top floor of their house.

[Name] took the board exams and passed them. The lovers asked her father's permission to wed. The parents of the young [Last Name] laid down two conditions: that the wedding would be a lavish one and that was to pay a dowry of 1,000,000 yen. The young vet said that he could afford the big wedding but the big dowry. [Father's Name] shrugged his shoulders; no dowry, no marriage. Kazutora spent some frantic weeks scraping up cash and managed together 800,000 yen.

"Please sir, this is all I can muster up with all the savings I have. Please reconsider." Kazutora, along with his friends bowed down in their highest pleads with their heads lowered to the ground than ever.

[Father's Name] agreed to reduce his price to that amount, then laid down a final condition: after the wedding, [Name] and Kazutora must make their home at the house on Shinsaibashi-suji Shopping Street. "I built this house for [Name]," said [Father's Name], "and I want her to live here even when she's married. Besides, her mother couldn't bear to be separated from Lydia, her only child." There was nothing, Kazutora could do but consent.

[Name] and Kazutora married on September 10 in the year 2045, at the Tokyo Daijingu Shrine, with Mrs. Akane Kokonoi, wife of the City Treasurer, and Minister of Defense Baji Keisuke as sponsors. The reception was at the Sushi Mizutani. The status gods of Tokyo were properly propitiated. Then the newlyweds went to live on Shinsaibashi-suji Shopping Street -- and Kazutora almost immediately realized why [Name] had been so reticent and mysterious about her home life. The cozy family group that charmed him in courtship days turned out to be rather too cozy.

"Oh let me help with the breakfast!" Kazutora said eagerly. "Ah no need, the maids can manage."

This time, Kazutora tried to sweep, "Ah! Don't worry! It'll be fine!" The mother interrupted him again.

The entire household revolved in submission around [Father's Name] [Last Name]. The daughter, mother, the foster-son, maids, and even the dogs trembled when the head of the house lifted his voice. [Last Name] liked to brag that was a "killer": in 1946, he had shot dead two American soldiers he caught robbing a neighbor's house in Yokohama City. Kazutora found himself within a family turned in on itself, self-enclosed and self-sufficient— in a house that had no neighbors and no need for any. His friends say that he made more friends in the neighborhood within a couple of months he stayed there than the [Last Name]s had made in a year.

"Nakajima-san! How are you doing?" Kazutora greeted the old neighbor.

"I-I'm fine, I am glad that those [Last Name]s finally had someone to take care of their only daughter."

"Ah! No need for that!"

[Father's Name] [Last Name] did not like what he to stray out of, and what was not his to stray into, his house. And within that house, he wanted to be the center of everything, even of his daughter's honeymoon.

"P-papa! Why did you pick the lock?!" [Name] frustratedly exclaimed.

"Oh I am sorry my baby, I didn't know you were~~" Her father jokingly said.

"Pa!" This time, she said more sternly.

"Alright! Alright! I am going out..."

Whenever Kazutora and [Name] went to the movies or for a ride, [Father's Name] insisted on being taken along. If they seated him on the back seat while they sat together in front, he raged and glowered. He wanted to sit in front of them.

The couple clung to each other's arms, as they happily went towards their car. "Ahh... Just the two of us Loves. We can go on with all our worries out of our car window." Kazutora said dreamily.

[Name] giggled in response as she nuzzled her cheeks in Kazutora's arms, "I know! Just us-"

Their time together was interrupted by the sound of Kazutora's father-in-law running in their direction, making the wed couple groan in defeat.

When Kazutora came home from work, he must not tarry with [Name] in the bedroom chatting: both of them must come down at once to the living room and talk with their father. Kazutora explained that he was not much of a talker: "That's why I fell in love with [Name] because she's the quiet type too". "So? No matter", said [Father's Name]. They didn't have to talk at all; he would do all the talking himself, so long as they sat there in the living room before his eyes. So, his compact family group sat around him at night, silent, while [Father's Name] talked and talked. But, finally, the talk had stopped, and the listeners had to rise and retire.

[Father's Name]'s laugh echoed all over the room. Kazutora can only slouch there out of boredom. [Name] noticed her husband's attitude and tried to reassure and comfort him with a few caresses in his hands. This small gesture helped Kazutora a lot as he tried to smile for his beloved wife.

[Name] looked at him with a gentle smile on her face, "I know that this is not the marriage life we both wanted, and I am terribly sorry for that." she apologized in a whisper. Kazutora can only kiss her cheek as a sign of forgiving her.

And it was this moment that [Father's Name] seemed unable to bear. He couldn't bear to see [Name] and Kazutora rise and go up together to their room. One night, unable to bear it any longer he shouted, as they rose to retire: "[Name], you sleep with your mother tonight. She has a toothache." After a dead look at her husband, [Name] obeyed. Kazutora went to bed alone. The incident would be repeated: there would always be other reasons, besides Mrs. [Last Name]'s toothaches. What horrified Kazutora was not merely what was being done to him but his increasing acquiescence. Had his spirit been so quickly broken? Was he, too, like the rest of the household, being drawn to revolve, silently and obediently, around the master of the house?

Once, late at night, he suddenly showed up at his parents’ house back in Tokyo, and his friends were shocked at the great change in him within so short a time. He looked terrified. What had happened? His car had broken down and he had had it repaired and now he could not go home. But why not?

>>>>>>>To be Continued>>>>>>

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babybluebex · 3 years

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laszlo kreizler nsfw alphabet

so yeah this... Happened. the zemo version is coming soon, stay tuned! (probably tomorrow morning bc a bitch is tired lmao)

(gif credit to @lindir)

A = Aftercare.

Laszlo is such an aftercare king. He’s checking on you in every way he can think of: asking you if you feel alright, maybe massaging your hips if he had you in a weird position, offering you dinner or wine, maybe even a hot bath, if you’d like (and the bath would have special perfumed oils he had sent from Paris because Laszlo is SUCH a self care whore, he’s got soaps and perfumes out the wazoo).

B = Body Part.

His favorite part of yours are your breasts. No questions, hands down. He likes using your breasts as a pillow at night— just settling himself between your legs and resting his head on your tits is a dream he indulges in frequently. He also really loves seeing you in the new French-style of dresses that have a lower neckline, and, if you wear one of those dresses to dinner without telling him beforehand, he’s as good as gone. He’s staring the whole time and can only manage simple sentences.

C = Cum.

I think Laszlo likes to cum inside you, but he also wouldn’t mind cumming on your tits. If you’re on your knees, sucking him off, he’ll pull himself out of your mouth and almost rip your blouse in his haste to set your tits free before his orgasm rips through him. He only chooses to cum inside you if he can’t cum on your tits (for example, if you’re having slow, kissy sex and he can’t bear to leave your wet heat).

D = Dirty Secret.

Laszlo. Loves. To. Be. Degraded. From a psychological standpoint, he understands that his desire to be brought down and ridiculed is born from some sort of childhood trauma that DEFINITELY involves his father, but he just can’t help himself from getting so ridiculously turned on when you call him a dog for humping your leg while you try to sleep. Bonus points if you use his title while you do it: “Just like a little bitch in heat, aren’t you, Doctor Kreizler? You’re so aroused, you can hardly handle yourself. Are you too dumb to touch your own cock? Do you need me to do it? Oh, Doctor, what a dumb little thing you are.”

E = Experience.

Even Daniel himself has said that Laszlo has like NO experience. Laszlo got ZERO bitches (which I find hard to believe but ok whatever you say, writers of The Alienist), so, the first time y’all have sex, he’s more likely than not losing his virginity (let’s not get into the debate of “virginity is a social construct” because a.) IT IS and b.) Laszlo would lecture for hours about this). HOWEVER, these things come naturally to him. He is just Good In Bed. He figures it out very quickly, so, while you make fun of him for going a little stupid when he’s aroused, he makes up for it by bruising your cervix and apologizing later.

F = Favourite Positions.

Laszlo loves that soft, slow, kissy sex, so he’s into whatever position makes it possible for him to be inside you and to kiss you at the same time. Missionary is a go to, but sometimes he’ll have you sit on his desk and kiss your neck as he hikes your skirts up and fucks you all slow and nice.

G = Goofy.

Hardly ever? Laszlo is pretty serious most of the time, and the only time we ever see him Not Serious in the show is when he’s wasted after John’s bachelor party in season 2. So, maybe y’all went to dinner at Delmonico’s, then a ball for members of high society, and he had a little too much champagne and schnapps. He’s not like giggling and all, but his cheeks are red and he’s smiling more than usual, and calling you sweet names “Oh, mein Kätzchen” and “Meine kleine Prinzessin”. That’s Laszlo’s version of goofy.

H = Hair.

OK, my train of thought here is: LOOK AT THIS MAN’S BEARD. HIS BEARD IS NICE AS SHIT. If he treats his facial hair that good— regular trims, the beard oils we all know he uses, even if it isn't strictly canon— then his downstairs hair is nice too. Definitely soft, if maybe a little wiry sometimes (but tbh whose isn’t), and it’s a nice little cropping at the base of his cock. He also has a thin happy trail up his soft tummy, and a good amount on his chest (as we see in the show lol that much is canon).

I = Intimacy.

Laszlo is ALL ABOUT intimacy. You’ll know he’s in a ~mood~ because you’ll ask what’s being served at Delmonico’s that night, and Laszlo is like “I thought we might stay in tonight. John gave me his grandmother’s recipe for chicken soup”. He’ll light candles and pour you wine and play nice music on his gramophone, and he’ll romance you throughout dinner with little hand touches and sly smiles, until he’s kneeling in front of you and slowly kissing up your leg.

J = Jack-Off.

Honestly, he hardly does it. Of course, I’m sure he did it A LOT before he met you, but now he doesn’t need to pleasure himself anymore. He’s got you to do that. The only exception is if he has to travel for work and you can’t go with him. Even then, he’ll hold off until he absolutely can’t stand it, and then he’ll like read a letter you sent him or look at a sketch that John did of you while he whacks off; sometimes, he’ll just hold your letter to his face, and the faint trace of your perfume is enough to do the job.

K = Kink.

He likes impact play a lot (and perhaps a little roleplay wrapped up in it). On the rare occasion that his fucking is anything but soft and lovely, he’s gonna be hitting your ass and the backs of your thighs as you cling to him while he rails you stupid. Laszlo would try to hit your cheek, but he feels too bad when you wince at the pain of it. Spanking your tits is good to him too. His favorite though (and here’s where the roleplay comes in), is caning your ass. He’ll bend you over the desk in his home office and pull your skirts up past your hips, and he’ll make you count the amount of times his thick wooden cane connects with your soft asscheeks. The roleplay is, more often than not, you were his assistant who did something wrong and needed to be punished. If you miss one or forget to thank him accordingly “Thank you, sir”, he’ll focus the next hit on your thighs.

L = Location.

Either the bed or his desk. Laszlo is a little older (I don’t think we ever get an explicit age? But if we say he’s the same age as Daniel, then he’s 40 to 42-ish) so he can’t do it against a wall or anywhere too crazy (not to mention his right arm can hardly support much weight, so if he needs to hold you up, it’s probably not gonna happen). The bed is a special time for you two because of his arm; he’ll hold himself up with his left arm and rest his hand on your hip or wherever to give himself at least a little leverage. But the desk is usually easier because you can sit, or you can bend over and he can grab your hip.

M = Motivation.

He loves you and wants to worship you. It’s truly as simple as that. He loves you and thinks that you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen, and he wants to show his reverence for you by making love to you.

N = No.

He can’t get into the role of “daddy”, nor can he call you “mommy”. Childhood trauma aside, he will be goddamned if Sigmund fucking Freud is correct about his bullshit Oedipus complex or whatever, so he just eliminates that whole thing entirely.

O = Oral.

He’s very good at it. He’s just… His lips are soft and his beard is good, and he’s not afraid to get a little messy with it. He’ll eat you out until he absolutely has to come up for air, and he’ll have a little bit of your wetness clinging to his mustache, but then he’s right back in it. His medical degree is also put to good use here because he remembers his female anatomy and he’s locked onto your clit the entire time. The first time you ever squirted, it was because Laszlo was nipping at your clit and sucking your wet little hole and pressing his thick fingers into you, and it was A Lot To Process, but you squirted and Laszlo came in his pants instantly because he’s like “I didn’t think women could actually do that… I thought that was a thing that penny novels made up”

P = Pace.

Again, he’s a little older, so he doesn’t fuck like some wild boy. He takes his time with you, touching you and caressing you and kissing you, and his pace is the same way. He’s slow and gentle, but has the capacity to go faster and harder if you ask for it.

Q = Quickie.

Hates them. Never. Never ever ever. If he can’t properly romance you and take his time with you, then what’s the point??

R = Risk.

Surprisingly, Laszlo is a little schemer, and he loves running a risk. He’s already looked down upon by other society members, so what’s the harm in squeezing your ass at a party? PERHAPS it’s inappropriate to get caught in a dark corner with your hand down his trousers and him kissing your neck, but it’s easy to blame it on the alcohol.

S = Stamina.

Once more, he is firmly middle aged, so he can do one round— maybe two, if he’s feeling particularly frisky. Usually, though, one is more than enough for both of you.

T = Toy.

HAVE YALL SEEN SEX TOYS FROM THE 1890S?? SHITS ARE SCARY. Laszlo does not like toys, but he understands their need for existing, so he may not like them but he tolerates them. That being said, he likes to watch you use them. LIke, he’ll sit in a chair by the bed and request you “put on a good show”, and he’ll watch you fall apart, and he’ll only come and touch you if you beg and plead for him to.

U = Unfair.

Mhm, so, in Laszlo’s mind, sex and pleasure are not just a give and take, it’s a two way street. They can (and often need to) coexist. He doesn’t like to initiate something if you won’t be able to reciprocate, so he’s not too into teasing or things. At the aforementioned parties, he’ll only goose your ass if he knows you’re 100% down for it.

V = Volume.

He’s fairly quiet. His mouth is usually really close to your ear, and you’re the only one who gets to hear his pretty little noises. The loudest he’ll be is when he’s come home after traveling and it’s felt like ages since he’s made love to you, he’s gonna come inside you, and his little gasp and moan are louder than usual.

W = Wild Card.

He is down to be tied up. He doesn’t like to tie you up, but if he’s the one being restrained, he’s all over it. It’s nothing too intense, just using a ribbon for your hair to tie his left hand to the headboard, not super tight but enough to make his fingers a little tingly, but he loves it. He loves the switch of the dynamic, how he’s fully at your mercy and you can use him however you please; usually, you just suck him off and ride him, but the endless possibilities get him hard as soon as you pull out the ribbon.

X = X-Ray.

Laszlo has Big Dick Energy, so he has to have a big dick. The best example of this sort of energy is in the very first episode after he goes and interviews Wolf, and comes to speak to Teddy, and Teddy is like “you interviewed the suspect? On whose authority??” and laszlo is like “Mine” like OH HIS DICK IS BIG I KNOW IT. He’s got an above average length and girth, but we know our man likes to eat, so some of his weight goes to his dick, so it’s like,,, He’s got a fat cock, sorry, I don’t make the rules

Y = Yearning.

Constantly. Neverending. He’s at work and he’ll catch a glimpse of a pastel drawing that you commissioned from John for Laszlo’s birthday that sits in a frame on his desk, and his heart starts to hurt from missing you. When he comes home, he’ll embrace you and kiss you like he hasn’t seen you in years, and he’ll want to hear all about your day. You have your doctor so whipped for you, and it’s a different kind of whipped than being pussy whipped. He’s, like, feelings whipped.

Z = ZZZ.

He’s a sleepy little baby after you guys finish. His eyes will be a little heavy and sticky as he’s cleaning up and caring for you (and you definitely coo at him “Oh, Las, you’re so sleepy!”) but when you’re both back in bed, our little man is circling his arm around your waist and nuzzling his cheek into your shoulder. He’s so soft and affectionate, and he’s out like a light when you kiss his forehead and tell him you love him.

#laszlo kreizler #the alienist #laszlo kreizler smut #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel bruhl smut #daniel brühl x reader #daniel brühl smut #laszlo kreizler x reader #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl

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i-write-newsies · 3 years

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A/N:

(Y/N) - Your Name

(L/N) - Last Name

(N/N) - Nickname

(H/C) - Hair Color

(D/N) - DEEZ NUTS!! /j Deadname

(E/C) - Eye Color

(H/L) - Hair Length

(Y/A) - Your Age

Ships Included:

- Jack x Davey

- Spot x Race

- Finch x Smalls (Platonic)

- Albert x Elmer

-Katherine x Sarah

- Spot x Reader (Brotherly Platonic)

- Race x Reader (Brotherly Platonic)

Summary:

You have always dreamed of living in the world of your favorite characters, to escape from whatever rotten life you have and make friends with the people you love. One day, fate decides to give you a chance. But when you're not prepared to be rushed into that universe, it becomes a roller coaster of balancing good and bad emotions and events.

Good luck, Reader!

!!TW!!

~ SELF HARM

~ TRANSPHOBIA

~ MAJOR INJURY

~ ABUSE

~ ARGUING

(Y/N) POV:

I'm (Y/N) (L/N). I'm (Y/A) with (E/C) eyes and (H/L) (H/C) hair. At least it used to be (H/L). I cut it all off today. I can tell my mom just found out because of the loud cursing and stomping. "GODDAMMIT, (D/N)!!" she yells. What scares me the most about this situation is the fact that I'm kinda used to this. I hear her coming up the stairs to my room and rush to the door and lock it. As expected, the door handle starts rattling violently, "(D/N) YOU LET ME IN RIGHT NOW, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SH!T!" She starts banging on the door, stressing the lock.

I sigh. Today was one of the worse days. I slip on my noise-canceling headphones and press play on my musicals playlist, consisting of:

- Waving Through A Window

- On My Own

- A Little Fall Of Rain

- Angel of Music

and of course...

The entire Newsies soundtrack.

By the time I get to 'Seize the Day', it's twilight outside. I lift one of my headphones to check if my mom is gone. I hear nothing. I look out the window and don't see her car. Perfect.

Unplugging my headphones and letting the music play, I walk over to my dresser, open it up, and reach deep in the back. Aha!

I pull out some bandages (A/N: DO NOT ACTUALLY BIND LIKE THIS OK BYE). I take off my shirt and try not to look in my mirror, fearing what sort of feminine body I may see. I start wrapping my chest to the point that it gets a little hard to breathe. This kinda hurts, but my dysphoria is stronger than my need for comfort and, let's be honest, safety.

Slipping my shirt back on, I look into the mirror and smile, satisfied with my flat chest and somewhat choppy short, (H/C) hair. I jump onto my bed and plug my headphones back into my phone which is now playing Santa Fe. Santa Fe honestly makes me think. I'm only, what, (Y/A)? And I still go through all this BS. I need out. Somewhere my mom can't tell me I'm female. Somewhere like...Newsies. I mean, Race is canonically trans, right? Not to mention all of them are definitely fruity. They'd accept me. The fresh, bandaged cuts on my arms are the only things keeping me in reality right now

As the song ends, I realize that I've been crying. God, why am I stuck in this wretched place? The question as well as thoughts of Newsies reverberates in my skull, a sort of white noise until I fall into a much-needed sleep.

"Aye, kid! Watcha doin sleepin on the street?"

"Especially in a place this..."

Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω

Jack POV:

I yawn, rubbing sleep from my eyes as the circulation bell drones on an' on. I let my eyes adjust to the view of the sunrise from my penthouse in the sky.

As I try to get up to get ready, a pair of arms drag me back down. "Jackieeee" a half-awake Davey groans, "come back down, it's freezing up here." "Dave, we gotta get to work. The boys can always count on me being at the gates early, so if you don't get up, I'm leaving you behind." This seems to wake him up a little more, "Alright, alright fine." he shivers as he gets up. I throw him his top shirt and vest and he desperately claws them on to gain warmth. Carefully, we climb down the ladder.

"What'd I tell ya, Dave? Even in the middle of summer, the night's always freezing." Davey rolls his eyes and does a little shiver "I know, Jackie, now c'mere and warm me up" I grin and move in closer, holding his hand, as we start walking to the gates. "Still not warm enough!" Davey said in a singsong-ish voice. I sigh and feign annoyance, leaning in to give a short but sweet peck on the lips. I think he's satisfied now. We're not usually this lovey-dovey, but I think we're both touch starved and subtly begging for a hug.

Davey, being the amazing boyfriend he is, stops by Jacobis to get us some breakfast. "Dave, you really don't hafta-" "I insist, Jack. After all, breakfast is the most important meal of the day," he says in an almost snobbish voice. I give him a small smile. That's my smartass Dave.

As we get to the gates, I notice a small figure leaned up against it. By now, the sun has come up some more over Manhattan 'n Dave 'n I don't have to walk as close to warm ourselves up. The figure seems to be sleeping, a newsies cap over their eyes. I think it's a kid. Maybe a new newsie looking for work?

I crouch down in front of him lift his hat, and start tapping his shoulder, "Aye, kid! Watcha doin sleepin on the street?" "Especially in a place this..." Davey notes. The kid seems to wake with a start. He rubs his eyes, and I chuckle a little "Whatsa matter? Ya look like youse seen a ghost." He doesn't seem to find this funny and repeatedly switches from looking at me then Davey with some confusion and shock in his eyes.

"I um-" he stutters over his words, "Aye, aye, kid, calm down, you ain't in trouble or nuttin." He takes a few deep breaths. "Okay... I'm (Y/N). I'm just freaking out because This isn't where I fell asleep, and- and I just- feel like I know you..." "Well, (Y/N) it sounds like you're one of da Newsies now," I say with a grin, "Now, we gots ta give you a nickname, we rarely eva call someone by their real name, 'cept Dave 'n Albert of course," The kid stays silent, clearly still shocked from waking up in a foreign place. "I feel like I know you.." he says, barely discernible. "Maybe ya do, maybe ya don't, Dave here's the only one good with faces." The kid looks up at Davey, who seems deep in thought, "(N/N)" he exclaims, "Ah, sorry, what I meant was your nickname should be (N/N)!" "I like it! But why (N/N) exactly?" I question, "Well, *insert reason why here*" "Well ain't you a clever boy, Dave!" I say, ruffling his hair. Davey shies away, "Jack! Now I have to fix my hair!" he complains, "Sorry, sorry." Davey then leaves to fix his hair in front of a shop window nearby, leaving me and (N/N) alone.

(N/N) seems to want to say something, but as soon as he opens his mouth, he shuts it just as quickly. I try to fill the awkward silence, "So, what's wit' da bandages, kiddo?" He freezes, "Nothing, just a ploy to get people to buy more papes..." he trails off. I have a feelin' he's not tellin' the truth, but I go along with it anyway, "Ha! What an idea, I wonder how I neva thought a' that before." he smiles, seeming satisfied with the praise. Davey returns from the shop window, "Alright! Ready to start the day?" (N/N) nods, and so do I.

Newsies start gathering, some glancing at (N/N) and some anxiously peering through the gates. I look at the headline for today: New Newsie Price! "Aye, Dave, you seein' this shit?" "Language- and yeah... what in the world was runnin' through Pulitzer's head when he thought of this??" I look at (N/N), whose mouth is a thin, pale line but whose (E/C) eyes are glinting with determination. "Heh, kid, what's that look for?" He looks at me, a little startled, but quickly regains that same tough expression, "I have a feeling that this ain't some silly little joke. And I'm worried 'bout the kids that may get hurt in the crossfire." I laugh, "Youse just bein dramatic! Surely, they wouldn't be as dumb as to underpay their own employees." I walk over to Weasel and slap down a penny "100 papes please!" "That's gonna be dime, Kelly."

My heart almost stops, and it takes all my strength not to break down in front of the boys. I fake a laugh, "Surely you're joking." "100 papes costs a dime, take a look at the headline." I hit the money box out of anger, "Then we'll just take our business to Brooklyn." Someone pipes up, "The same thing's happenin' there." "Then we'll go to Rushing!" Specs jogs over, seemingly out of breath, "I'll save ya the walk; it's the same everywhere."

Fuck.

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Y/N POV:

A sharp pain in my chest temporarily distracts me from the situation at hand. Ah. I almost forgot. I still have to bind. This sucks. I feel a pair of eyes on me and turn just in time to see Racetrack Higgins avert his eyes. I give him a confused look and turn back to Jack singing "The World Will Know" I forget all about his weird staring and get back into the determined beat from before.

Soon, the newsies and I make our way to Jacobis for some...water I guess? I do happen to have some extra money in my pocket so I think I can treat all the boys to some seltzer. I sit down on a hard wooden chair in a slouch. The room is buzzing with excited talk of the strike. I give a small, sad smile. These boys have no idea what they're getting themselves into. Crutchie sits next to me serving a wide smile just as Jacobi enters with a tray full of waters, "And here's one for you, and for you, and for you- who's the big spender that ordered everyone seltzer?" shyly, I raise my hand, "That's me, sir." "You know these cost a quarter each, right?" I pull out a handful of quarters with a cheeky smile "and I got more where that came from." The boys go wild, "Where did ya get all that money, kid??" Davey, being the concerned mom, asks "Please tell me you didn't steal that." I shake my head, "I used to live comfortably, but my mom kicked me out for...reasons." my grin falters for a second, but no one seems to notice.

"Well!" Jack stands on a table, "Here's to the strike! And, of course, (N/N)" He gestures towards me with a wink as everyone cheers. As Katherine enters, I start to zone out and stare at a speck of dust on the ground. After all, I know the plot all too well. I perk up, though, as soon as Jack asks who's goin' to Brooklyn. My hand shoots up, "I nominate me and Race!" I exclaim. I look over at Race, who's staring at me, blushing and jaw dropped a little. I grin at him and look back at Jack, who's a little shocked. "A-alright! Me and Dave'll take the Bronx, I guess."

*Timeskip to after the restaurant scene*

I walk down the Manhatten alleys blindly, no clue where I'm going, when I hear someone come up behind me. "Hey, (N/N)! It's me, Race." I smile weakly, "Oh, hey." "I always sell my papes at Sheepshead in Brooklyn, so I know where to go."

It's almost completely silent except for the clicking of our shoes on the paved roads. "So... how'd ya get here as a Newsie, (N/N)?" "Well, Jack 'n Davey found me sleepin' on the street just this mornin'" He laughs, "Wow! So you got used to the Newsie life real quick!" "Yeah, I did.." I let out a small chuckle as well. Race pulls out a cigar and clamps it between his lips and goes to light it but hesitates. "Uh- Wanna cigar?" "Wow, Racetrack Higgins giving me one of his own cigars? I'm flattered!" I joke, "But, yeah, I need smoke." He digs into his pocket and hands me another cigar, "You eva' smoked before?" he stares at me as I put the cigar in between my lips. I grin sheepishly, "No." "Okay, maybe we should stop for a second. Coughing while walking ain't the most fun thing in the woild."

We lean up against a wall as Race lights first his, then my cigar. I inhale and immediately spiral into a coughing fit. Race smacks my back, "You good, (N/N)? I ain't neva' seen a fella cough that hard on the first puff." I roll my tear-filled eyes and continue coughing.

Once my coughing fit subsides, I feel a wave of relaxation. "God I should do this more often." I groan, Race grins, "Yeah, once you get past the whole blowin'-your-brains-out part of smokin', it's real nice. Anyway, shall we continue?" he gestures to the streets ahead. I nod my head and take another puff, "Yeah, it's gettin' kinda late and we do NOT wanna wake up the Spot Conlon." Race nods in agreement and we hurry along. Even though I know Spot is kind of a softie, that doesn't stop me from being intimidated by his prowess.

We reach the Brooklyn lodging just as Race's cigar burned out. Race takes a deep breath and gives three solid knocks on the door. A kid younger than me answers the door, "State ya business" "I'm here to let Conlon know about some very important news." The kid squints his eyes but responds "I'll ask him if he's willing to meet with anyone right now. Who should I tell him is askin'?" "Race. Higgins." He says somewhat awkwardly.

The kid closes the door. Race and I stand quietly waiting for the OK to see Spot. Suddenly the door swings open to reveal Spot. "Ra-" he notices me and coughs, "I mean- Higgins, would you like to step in to discuss the important news?" I almost laugh at the way he went from totally in love to distinguished gentleman. I shoo them away, holding in laughter, "don't worry, I'll wait out here and give you lovebirds some space." (A/N: or should I say sprace) I see them both go tomato red.

I sigh as they head inside. I take a drag from the cigar and start thinking. How did I end up in the newsies universe and act this calm about it? This feels so surreal. But I want to stay here forever. Far away from my sh!tty mom and all my responsibilities.

Lost in my own head, I barely notice as Racetrack storms out of the lodging, clearly pissed. "C'mon (N/N), we're leaving." he grabs my hand and angrily powerwalks to the next street over. Once we're there, he lets go of my hand and sighs harshly, walking slow. "I assume it didn't go well?" I ask, already knowing the answer. "Not. Well." "Wanna talk about it?" he shakes his head and starts walking "No, thanks. I think we's better get to bed before Jack gets worried." he stops. "Do you have a place to sleep?" I look down, "Not really..." "Well!" he grabs my hand again with a big grin, "Looks like youse bunkin' wit' me." I start to protest, but realize it'd get me nowhere with this stubborn SOB, so I let myself get dragged along. Oh, well. I might as well get rest for the strike tomorrow, goodness knows I need it.

As I settle down into the rough sheets, the gentle snoring rocks me to sleep with thoughts of the strike. One thought flashes through my mind before I fall asleep; God help us all.

I wake up to someone poking my face. My eyes flutter open and I almost fall off the bunk at the sight of Race's face right in front of mine. "JESUS CHRIST, RACE, YOU SCARED THE SH!T OUTTA ME!" He backs off, putting his hands up in surrender, "Sorry, sorry, it's just that Jack said you had to be up and out in 10 minutes so we can have an organized strike or whateva'" Race rolls his eyes, "I'm startin' ta think that Davey's rubbin' off on 'im a lil' too much."

I groan, tempted to slide back under the covers, but get up anyway. I slept with my clothes on so I don't have to do anything about that. As I look into an old, rusted mirror and comb my fingers through my now tangled hair, I feel another sharp pain in my chest, accompanied by a dull throbbing. I really should have taken off the bandages while I slept, but now it's too late. I take one last look in the mirror and, ignoring my eyebags, quickly head out the door to join the others. As I get to the gate, everyone's waiting with anticipation, faces grim but hopeful.

Everything happens in a blur. One moment we're striking, and the next we're beaten into a pulp. I manage to soak a Delancey in the eye when suddenly a familiar sharp pain fills my chest and wince, faltering. Morris takes this as an opportunity to knee me in the stomach, forcing me to the ground, where their take turns kicking my chest and body with those damn steel-toed boots of theirs until my clothes are torn and the cuts on my arms reopen. Suddenly, there's a small crack as my body swells up with pain and the taste of metal enters my mouth. I let out a blood-curdling scream as the pain registers in my brain. In my blurred vision, I see the Delancey's walk away, ready to torture their next victim; Crutchie.

I try to get up and reach out, try to scream at them not to hurt him, but all I can do is weakly move my hand in their direction and spit out blood. Suddenly, a small but rough hand reaches out and drags me into an alley. "Dammit, (N/N) what were you thinking?! Fighting in a gawddamn binder, and a makeshift one, no less!" "R-..Race..?" "Not now, (N/N) I have ta get youse to safety foist." I watch as he chews on his nails in thought, "Dammit! The only way back to tha lodge is through the Delancey's again!" He sighs. "Brooklyn it is..." He gingerly picks me up and carries me as fast as possible to Spot's turf.

Setting my feet on the ground and propping me up against him, he bangs on the door. "Spot!" Please! This is serious, I need your help!" I can hear the tears in his voice. Spot flings open the door, obviously very concerned. He's confused for a second, then looks at me and his eyes go wide. "GET THE MED KIT AND A COT OPEN, WESE GOT SOMETHING HORRIBLE THAT'S HAPPENED" he yells behind him. Race, now more calmed down, takes me in his arms again, but seems to refuse to look at Spot, who looks away as well, but more in shame.

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Race POV:

I watch as some of the Brooklyn newsies take (N/N) and lay him on a cot, anger surging through my veins. I take a deep breath "I'll take care of him. You guys don't have to worry about it." As they leave the room, I look down at (N/N) and can't help but feel guilty. Like this is my fault. I only got away with a black eye, but he got all this?

I regain my composure and start by taking (N/N) shirt off. I can already see the bruises starting to form and cringe. I take off his binding bandages and see his chest expand immediately. Poor kid. He must have been hurting in more way that just one. I take the gauze from the wooden box and gently wrap his torso with it. Maneuvering around his arms, I notice something. The bandages on him arms. When he was wearing them before, Jack said it was a marketing ploy, but now I see red bleeding through the white gauze.

I unwrap (N/N)'s arms and gasp. Hundreds of tiny, but deep cuts litter his forearms and wrists. F#ck. He was hurting so much more than I could have ever known. I wrap them with fresh gauze and treat the rest of his wounds, stepping back to admire my handiwork. That's when I start to cry. Full-on tears falling, face in hands crocodile tears. I turn my head with a start to see Spot, standing over me with a hand on my shoulder, looking apologetic "I'm so sorry..." Suddenly this sadness turns to rage. I grab him by the shirt collar and drag him outside to an empty alleyway. "SORRY?? SORRY, MY 4SS! (N/N) AND SO MANY OTHER 'HATTEN NEWSIES ALMOST DIED OUT THERE BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T WANT TO JOIN UNTIL YOU KNEW WE WOULDN'T "CAVE" WELL, WE DIDN'T CAVE, AND LOOK WHAT F#CKING HAPPENED! AND DONT YOU SAY SORRY TO ME AND EXPECT ME TO FORGIVE YOU JUST BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, THAT'S FOR CROW TO DECIDE." Spot seemed silent at first, but now I could see his anger building up; "WADDAYA THINK WOULD O' HAPPENED TO MY BOYS, HUH?? I WANTED TO WAIT TO SEE IF WE WOULD BE THE ONLY ONES FIGHTIN IN THIS BATTLE AGAINST PULITZER."

I open my mouth then close it. He has a fair point, but doesn't he trust me and the udda newsies not to bail in their hour of need? I sigh, pinching my nose. "I'm sorry Spot, I just-... I just wish you trusted me a bit more..." I look up at him to see tears in his eyes. "OH, SPOT HONEY, ITS OKAY, I'M NOT MAD, DON'T CRY, DON'T CRY" I shush him, pulling his head into my chest, which isn't tough considering his height.

As he lets go, the adrenaline rush from today dies down. God, I'm so tired. My knees nearly buckle and Spot notices, "Aye, aye! Tony, you doin' okay?" I nod at him, but the bags under my eyes are making them droop, "Race, honey, you need to get some sleep, okay?" I shake my head but soon fall into Spot's arms as my legs give way. "Fine..." I mumble. I can feel him grinning, "Good, we gots an extra bed for youse to sleep in." I sigh, grateful. I can feel Spot picking me up, the rhythm of his boots tapping along the ground, a pause and shift as he opens the lodging door and kicks it closed behind him as I fall asleep.

I wake up in a cold sweat. (N/N). I need to see (N/N). I need to check if he's okay. I climb out of the bed Spot laid me in and let my eyes adjust to the dark before maneuvering around all the other sleeping kids. I make my way as quietly as possible to where (N/N) is resting. I crouch down and take his hand in mine. How could I let this happen? And how did I not notice his suffering? I press the back of his hand to my forehead, closing my eyes. My body is so tired right now, but my mind is too tortured with guilt to let me sleep.

By the time my thoughts finally leave me alone, the sun is rising in the sky. I'm finally drifting when- "Race?" I turn my head to the voice, "Oh, jesus, you look horrible!" Spot exclaims, "did you even get any sleep last night?" I shrug, to be fair, I lost count of the hours. Spot sighs, "Race...go sleep. At least for a few more hours. I can watch (N/N) if that makes you happy," I nod, rubbing my eyes. I stumble back to my bed amongst all the Brooklyn newsies and fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow.

My mind dreams of talkin' cigars and bloody bandages. I see Crow propped up against the wall, smokin' a cigar. "(N/N)! (N/N)! Oh my god, I'm so happy that you're okay!" (N/N) doesn't answer, I slowly starts walking towards him, "(N/N)...?" he starts laughing. Softly at first then roaring, and the laughing turns into a heavy coughing fit. As (N/N) coughs, red smoke pours out of his lungs and clouds my vision. I swipe at the air, trying to brush away the fog, "(N/N)?? (N/N), where did you go?!" suddenly, the smoke clears and I see (N/N) bruised, damaged, bleeding body at my feet, I gasp and step back. (N/N) slowly turns to face me, and in a painful, teary, almost sickly whisper asks, "Why did you let this happen?" Tears start spilling down my face, "I- I didn't me-" "You did this to me Race. Race. Race. Race! Race! RACE! RACE!--

Spot POV:

--RACE WAKE UP!" He wakes up with a gasp. He looks around wildly, tears dripping from his chin. I've never seen him like this. He must care for him like a brudda. To be honest, I'm worried as well, not only about (N/N) but now that we know 'Hatten isn't gonna back down and we join the fight, what's gonna happen to the newsies in general? Kids could get hoit. Bad.

"Spot?" Race starts sobbing, clinging to my shirt fabric, "Please...tell me it'll be okay..." I can't. Race, I don't know if it will. I almost start sobbing on the Spot ( A/N: heh...), but I hold my composure and smile at him, "It'll be okay, Tony...we're all gonna be fine" He seems to believe this, at least a little bit. "Now, don't you gotta meet up wit' da udda newsies?" He retracts his head from my chest, eyes wide. In a nasal voice, he goes "AW SHOOT, I 'MOST FORGOT" I watch him with a small smile as he rushes to get dressed like the goof he is. God, I love 'im.

Race POV:

Silence. I got there too early. Fuck. I can't just be alone with my thoughts, but at least I have some extra money to... I don't know? I walk up to the bar, where the owner of Jacobi's is cleaning out glasses. I sigh and sit down, "Got anything to help forget? At least for a little while...?"

"Ain't you a little too young for that, kid?" I give him a look and push my money over the counter to him. He quietly collects it, "So what can I get ya?" I'm silent for a bit "Fireball." I say with some demand in my voice. He disappears behind the counter and comes back with some shot glasses and a Fireball bottle, pouring it out into the glasses as I watch. I notice as he sighs, "Feel betta, kid." Can't promise that.

I pick up a shot glass, watching as the orange liquid spins around in it. I take in a breath of spicy cinnamon before letting the liquid slip down my throat, leaving a trail of a burning sensation. Soon, one turns into another, and another, and another and before I could comprehend it, the room starts to spin and blur. Eventually, the room fills with newsies, mumblin' 'bout how crappy the strike went. I do my very best to fit in and not act drunk, but the time zooms by and I find myself singin' 'bout bein' the king o' new york. At some point in the blurry memory, Katherine suggests getting drunk and I throw my hands up and cheer. More free Fireball! But then she clarifies that it was a metaphor, to which I am very disappointed.

The rest whizzes past me and soon I'm stumblin' my way to Brooklyn. I knock heavily on the lodging door, then lean on it. Unexpectedly, the door opens and I'm left to fall flat on my face at the feet of my boyfriend, Spot Conlon. "Race! Darlin', you okay? Youse fell flat on ya face!" He extends a hand that I receive and pulls me up. I giggle, "Ahhhh, my Spotty! Always carin' 'bout uddas. Pshht! Yeah, I'm fiiiine." I flop my hand down to wave off his concern. He wrinkles his nose, "You reek of cinnamon....and alcohol." He widens his eyes and I let out anudda giggle, "Race! Tell me you didn't jus' get drunk!" he whines, I grin, "Okey, 'you didn't jus' get drunk'" I imitate him in a deep voice and he sighs, "Jesus Christ, Racer.." he grabs my hand pulls me inside, eventually laying me on a bed, face red with a giggling fit. "Goodnight, my liege," I giggle some more, "and you my Prince," he gives a small smile before covering me with a blanket. I fall asleep before it's up over my shoulders.

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I wake up with my head feeling like it's going to explode.

Fuck Life.

I groan and sit up. "Mornin' Sleepin' Beauty" Spot smirks and hands me a cup of water, "Shut the fuck up" I whine and grab the glass, "Ooh feelin' feisty today, huh?" I shoot him a look that could rot a squash with one gaze. He holds up his hands in defense, "Alright, alright, my bad," He shrugs. I sigh and take a sip of water, which turns into me chugging the whole thing. "You betta get ova this hangover fast, hon" I groan, not ready to do anything at all today, "We gots the meetin' wit' Jack."

End my life.

"No, I don't think I will," "fuuuuck did I say that out loud?" I let out a small wail, and Spot chuckles a little, though you can tell there's somethin' on his mind still, "Yeah, ya did sweetheart." I grumble something incomprehensible and look down, red. He smiles, "Get dressed and drink as much water as possible, okay? We can't have you hungover for the big meeting, right?" I nod...which causes my head to hurt. Ow.

I sigh and decide to take my sweet time getting dressed. This sucks. "Spotty!" I call, then cringe after a new wave of pain hits, he pokes his head through the door "Yeah?". "I don't have the energy to deal wit' all dese gawddamn bandages. Help me?" He blushes a bit but agrees to help me bind. All I focus on is not hurting my head again. Spot ties the bandages and stands back to admire his handiwork but quickly notices my cringin'. "Do you want somethin' cold?" he asks gently, I nod as gingerly as possible.

*Timeskip to after the newsies meet n greet bcuz I'm power-finishing this at 12am and my mental health is steadily declining*

My hand shakes as I bring a fresh, unlit cigar to my lips.

Jack. That sellout, that traitor.

A sharp pain knocks me out of my angry thoughts. Ah. I burned myself.

I feel a hand on my shoulder, "Racer.." says a gentle voice, "You okay? that's your 3rd cigar in the past 2 hours or so." I look up to see Finch leaning over me as I sit on the ground, a concerned look on his face, "You're gonna run out all too soon" I give a bitter laugh, "Yeah, I guess I will." Finch can see that there's not much he can do to help me. He gives a weak smile and turns to walk away.

I see Davey run off somewhere. I wonder where they're going? I sigh and turn my head back down to the ground. Who cares? Without a leader, the strike'll just fall apart and Pulitzer'll win. Who was I kidding when I bragged abt being da "King o' New York"? I'm just some nobody kid without a nickel to my name. The bigger guys always win, so what's with me tryin'?

Jack POV:

I can't let any more kids get in this much danger. I visited (N/N) today. I found out about all his... injuries, as well as whatever he was born as. He's been through so much before all this, he doesn't deserve it.

It's my fault for being so ignorant. For not noticing anything was goin' on. My fault for inciting this stupid strike. For getting all these kids hoit. and Crutchie...poor Crutchie, locked up in that godawful place. I know he ain't helpless, 'e's a cheeky little bastard, I'll give him that, but the Refuge breaks down even the biggest of smiles and smothers the brightest of people. I will never forget that hell I went through. I went in a cheeky fightin' kid with a deep, strong flame, and came out with the embers barely glowing. It took years just to spark it up again. I'm terrified as to what'll happen to him.

I lean over the railing of my penthouse, not even noticing as it shakes and squeaks, making way for a young boy a little younger den me. "-Jack! JACK!" "Jesus Christ, yeah??? Oh, it's you, Dave..." I look away shamefully, he's probably here to chew me out and tell me we're done and gone. "What the hell was that?" I wince, I knew it. "Waddya mean 'what the hell was that?'?" "You know what I mean, JACK KELLY." I'm fucked. "YOU BETRAYED US FOR MONEY?!" "I WOULDN'T HAVE FELT PRESSURED TO IF I WADN'T DEALIN' WIT' A FLAKER!" Davey gives a bitter laugh and balls up the front of my shirt in his fist, tugging me towards him. "Ohoho! And if I wasn't your 'best friend' you'd be lookin' at me through one swollen eye!" "Oh, yeah? Well, don't let that stop ya, huh? Gimme your best shot!" something soft roughly pressing against my lips. The only thought at the moment is; 'Well, this is new... and passionate, 'specially from Dave' there's a heavy, awkward silence.

I back away from him, knocking over my drawings in the process. One specific drawing rolls out seemingly by fate. It taps on Davey's shoe and he looks down. His eyes widen a little as he reaches down to get it. "Is this.. the Refuge?" he puts a hand over his mouth, "weren't you stuck here once? Rats, cockroaches everywhere, 6 kids to a bunk? Holy fuc- I mean fudge." If the moment weren't this tense, I might've laughed. "Jack..." I feel a hand on my shoulder. "You don't have to tell me if you're not ready." I shake my head and he drops his arm understandingly. "Either way, we could use this. Heck..." Davey seems deep in thought before his face lights up, "We could make our own newspaper!" I look at him in disbelief, he notices, and speaks again "think about it, Jackie! Kath's a real talented writer! This art could change the perspective of hundreds! We could write to tell all the workin' boys to go on Strike tomorra'! And we could expose Snyder in the process!" Hey, that's not too bad..."But, Dave, how're we gonna print it?" His face falls, "I didn't think about it...we're banned from every printin' press in New York.."

Oh no. Ohhh no. "No. Noooo." I whine, Davey chuckles, amused "what?" "I know a printin' press that no one would ever think of!" Davey grins, "Then what are we waitin' for?" He puts my drawing back into the case, and slings it over his shoulder, getting ready to climb down. Suddenly, a thought strikes me, "Wait-" "Yeah?" "Dave- what are we exactly? Like I know how we act to each other n' everything, but we've never really said out loud what we are..." Davey giggles, "Jackie-" "No! Tell me right now, are we... in love? Boyfriends, I guess?? Or am I just something for your own experimentation?"

He cups my face in his hands, "Jackie..." he kisses my nose, "Of course I love you! And yes! We are in love! Dating! Boyfriends! Whichever way you want to define us!" Soon we're both grinning ear-to-ear and blushing. "Now!" he exclaims, hopping up, clearly on a high from the whole kiss and convo, "Let's get to it!" I laugh and stand up as well, following my over-enthusiastic boyfriend down the ladder. As Davey said; Let's get to it!

(Y/N) POV:

'My head hurts...' I think groggily. I try to open my eyes, but my vision is blurred and wonky. I sit up. Nevermind. Everything hurts. As my vision starts to clear, I see a very tired Spot Conlon sitting in a chair in the corner of whatever room I'm in rubbing sleep from his eyes. He fixates his eyes on me for a second, and I can see the sleepiness and confusion in his eyes turn into shock and joy. "(N/N)! Ohmygod! I'm so glad you'se awake!" I can see him go to wrap me in a bear hug before holdin' himself back after he remembers all my injuries. Wait. My injuries. "Does this mean you know about...?" I vaguely gesture to my arms and Spot nods sadly, "And..." I cringe and gesture to my chest, now only lightly bound with medical tape, but tighter than needed for a typical injury. I smile to myself. That must've been Race. He's like a perfect older brother, not only thinkin' about my physical health, but also my mental well-being.

Spot notices the look on my face and sees me lookin' down at my chest, he chuckles, "Yeah, Race decided on that. He wanted you to feel as comfortable as possible while you heal." I start grinning even harder. Spot spoke up again "Don't forget that even boys born seen as boys don't have perfectly flat chests, so binding as tight as you did wasn't necessary or safe, for that matter." I give him a look, is Spot really trying to be the cis savior right now? He gives me a look right back, "What? I know what I'm talking about." He lifts his shirt up to reveal two scars on his chest. I gasp, "But you're only *insert years/months* younger/older than me! How did you even know that this was an option, as well, how did you do it?" He smirks, pulling his shirt back down, "Thought so. Anyway, I don't really know. I needed them off desperately and randomly thought of it. As for the how, Buttons is AMAZING with scissors and blades. Like, scary amazing." He shivers. I blink. Damn.

He gives a shy grin "Do I really pass that well?" I look at him enviously "Of course! But... how do you look so...masculine?" "Well, I tried my best to copy the behavior of other boys I saw. And the whole working out didn't hurt." I nod, taking a mental note. Behavior, got it. Can't promise sticking to a workout, though. Spot scoots closer, taking my hand in his, "But the most important thing to understand is- behavior, body type, and a powerful reputation doesn't define being a true boy. What does is what's in here-" he taps my head, "-and here." he points to my heart. Spot looks me in my eyes, "You could wear dresses, skirts, use a 'girly' name, hell, even go by she! and you'd still be a boy in my eyes." I feel my eyes water, and Spot opens his arms to me with a sincere look. I fall into his arms and cry tears of joy. Spot and Race are the older brothers I never had, helping me at every fork in the road of my transition.

(A/N: I noticed that a big issue in trans fanfics was that the cis person was always the one to condescendingly teaching the helpless trans kid how to bind properly. I decided to make both of your mentors trans, had them both know what they're talking about, and made sure that you weren't completely useless or clueless, only that you needed guidance seeing as (Y/N) is a trans kid with no former knowledge about his transition. As well, I kinda wanted this fic to be of help to any newcomer trans men. Anyway, on to the last of the story!)

"So how are your ribs feeling?" Spot asks after we both calm down, "A little sore, but pretty much moveable. Is it really this painful to bind? I mean, the past few weeks I had the binding stuff on was my first time." "It shouldn't, I mean, lookit Race. He seems energetic and flexible even when he's binding." I think he sees my insecure face because he speaks again, "What I mean to say is- if you have more experience binding, you'll know how to mix mental and physical comfort. Either way, what fucked up your ribs wasn't the binding, it was the Delancey's. Not saying the way you were binding wasn't bad and wouldn't have caused lasting damage, of course."

I see Spot have a flicker of thought behind his eyes, he pulls out an obviously stolen silver pocket watch with the initials H.A. engraved on it to check the time. "Almost time..." he mutters. I give him a suspicious look, "Almost time for what...?" he looks sheepishly at the ground, "Nnnnnothing." I let out a noise halfway between a snort and a scoff, "Uh huh." "Fine." he sighs, "All the newsies and workin' boys is comin' together today. We'se hopin' ta finish up this strike Once And For All."

"Let me guess, I shouldn't go because I'm still healing." He nods, "Spot!! I need to do my part in this strike! I can't miss the most important day of my life." he gives me a weird look, "You don't even know what the outcome'll be, plus I promised Race that you wouldn't get hurt." "Please, I've been bedridden for WEEKS. And I won't get hurt" I protest stubbornly, he sighs exasperatedly "FINE, but I'm gettin' you right outta there at the foist sign o' danger, okay?" "Okay!" I say, content with the compromise. "We should prolly get you up and used to legs again before the strike--" my stomach rumbles harder than Les when he sees the chocolate croissants in the Pastry Shop window, and that's seriously saying somethin', "--and something to eat, too."

Spot holds my hands as I get out of bed and basically learn to walk again with wobbly legs. You could just paint my back with spots and call me a baby deer. Once I get my legs to work with me, Spot leads me to a tin tub. I give him a 'seriously?' look, "What am I doin', goin' ta church?" he laughs sarcastically, "Ha, ha. (N/N), you haven't cleaned yourself since the last time you were conscious. I also need to refresh your bandages since those haven't been touched since Race changed them in the foist place." "Fiiiine" I growl.

Spot unwraps my arm and chest bandages, but when it comes to me taking off the rest of my clothes, he looks away (not even for my privacy, but just because he is highly repulsed to the idea of naked bodies) I add enough soap suds on top of the water to cover my body so he's comfortable.

He grabs some soap and lathers up my hair with it, soon rinsing it. He also lathers and rinses my face, removing the built-up dirt, grease, and sweat, which accumulated surprisingly quickly for only spending a month, or was it two, here. Spot brings out a small piece of scrap fabric and a bottle of some liquid, then gently grabs my arms. "This might burn a little," he said empathetically. He dampened the cloth with what I am assuming is disinfectant and started pressing it against my healing cuts. I tried to hold in my pain but let out a small hiss when the cloth reached the deeper cuts on the backs of my arms. Spot stopped temporarily, letting my arms adjust to the sting a little, before continuing. Once he's finished, he hands me the soap and leaves the room to let me bathe myself in peace and picks up my dirty clothes and old bandages. "Holler if you need anything!" he yells on his way out.

I create a lather in my hands and stand up so I can actually wash my body. The air is chilly compared to the bathwater, so I do my best to be quick as I let my soap hands travel gingerly over my body. I look down, and for the first time in a long time, I don't feel ashamed. Spot words echo in my mind as I smile softly; 'You could wear dresses, skirts, use a 'girly' name, hell, even go by she! and you'd still be a boy in my eyes.' I guess, for now, I'm confident in my masculinity.

I sit back down, enjoying the warmth, and rinse myself off. I step out of the bath and look at the grey-ish brown-ish water. Ew, was I really that dirty? As the cold air envelops me once more, I realize I don't have a towel. Or clothes. "Spot!" I call out, "Yeah?" I hear a faint voice, "I need a towel and some clothes!" I answer. There's quiet, then a series of rustling sounds that slowly get closer. The door opens a crack and I see a tan, muscular hand slide a pile of clothes and a towel in my direction. I smile gratefully, "Thanks, Spotty!" "Aye! Only Race can call me dat..." "Okay, fine."

I dry my hair as much as possible, before continuing to my body. There's not much actual rubbing rather than patting because of my injuries, so when I get my pants on and slip my button-down onto my shoulders, they get a little damp. "Spot?" I call out again, "Do you think you could help me with my bandages?" "'Course!" He casually picks up the chest bandages and binds it pretty much perfectly- Tight enough to make a difference in my chest size, but loose enough to let my ribs heal. Spot then starts re-bandaging my arms, "Can I ask you a question, Spot?" "Sure, (N/N)" he says nonchalantly, "Why is it you are repulsed by fully naked bodies, but you're perfectly casual and fine about helping me bind my chest when I'm half-naked?" he clears his throat as if he was ready to spin a whole story, "Well, Race used to live with me and we started trusting each other a lot more than when we first met. He trusted me enough to teach him the best way to bind, and he trusted me enough to feel comfy without a top on when around the house, so I'm kinda desensitized. But when it comes to people being naked or bein' overly suggestive, I just..don't like it. At all."

'Asexual,' I think, 'Knew it."

"Anyway, you ready to fight off the bulls and get our rights back, (N/N)?" He stands up and offers a hand to help me up, which I receive. I catch my reflection in the dirty bathwater. I can see crystal clear, that I am dapper, strong, and ready to kick some Delancey ass.

But first, Lunch.

Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω

I arrive at the strike on Spot's shoulders, hyped for the happy ending they all worked so hard for. Spot sets me down gently and scans the crowd for someone. It seems he found them because his face lights up. I see Race run over to us. "(N/N)! Oh my god, I'm so fuckin' glad that you're awake! Especially today of all days!" however, his enthusiasm is soon replaced with concern, "But is ya sure yer okay? You must've woken up just today, so are you feeling good? Yer injuries don't hurt too bad, you're not dizzy, hungry, thirsty?" "Calm down, Tony, I gave him a bath, changed his bandages, gave him food n' water, even a pep talk, so you don't need to worry!" Race takes a few deep breaths, "Okay, okay, yeah I'm fine. But that's great!" He engulfs me in a firm, but gentle hug. I look around the crowd and see some familiar faces, Katherine seems to have brought another girl with her, who I'm assuming is Sarah, Davey's sister. I see Albert and Elmer tightly holding each other's hands. I see Finch and Smalls exchanging jokes as a form of distraction. I look back at Race and Spot, who are being so romantic, it's almost gross. Almost.

The adrenaline still hasn't left me so when people start getting as excited as me, it just hypes me up even more. We look up at the window of Pulitzer's office and see Jack and a few others standing there, waving. I wave back vigorously. Not too long after, Jack, Davey, Pulitzer, and The Governer appear on a balcony, Jack at the front. "Newsies of New York City..." cue the pause for dramatic effect, "WE WON!!" The crowd of newsies roars with joy. I watch as Crutchie limps out and beats Snyder's ass as the abuser is dragged away, I don't understand why so many people see him as an angel, it's obvious that he's a cheeky lil' rat bastard.

Suddenly, it's like everything is in slow motion. I look around once more and see Katherine and Sarah kissing, same with Albert and Elmer, Finch and Smalls are hugging each other tightly. I look back up at the balcony and see Davey and Jack gettin' it ON. I look once again to Spot and Race, who just finished kissing. Spot reaches down and hoists me onto his shoulders to cheer. And as I take in this momentous victory one sense at a time, I realize in a moment of pure bliss-

I finally found my true family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word Count: 8190

(A/N):

This took VERY LONG (approx. one month, I just finished after working from 9 pm to 5 am) I know it was supposed to be a simple one-shot, but since there was no one to help narrow down and shorten the plot for me, I got carried away. I am, however, pleased with the length of it. This may be the longest fic I've ever written. As well, I hope any underlying advice or tips mentioned in the story helped you to understand/realize something.

I would love it if you were to vote, give me some constructive criticism, and/or request something for me to write! Don't forget- I live to write that one fanfic you can never find.

Love y'all!

~ Race

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descendantofthesparrow · 3 years

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Regained Passion -Harry Hook x reader - part 1 - The dance studio

-canon deviant, after D2; Ben invites more vks over, including Harry and Gil-

Harry huffed in frustration as he forced himself to walk to the dance studio building, FG had made the newest set of VKs go to counselors and his had decided he needed something to burn off his energy, but it couldn’t be sword fighting or tourney as it ‘amplified his violent tendencies’ and he needed ‘a calm environment that tempered him’

“Dumb counselor, dumb FG, dumb dance class” he muttered to himself, shrugging the duffel back on his shoulder to sit correctly as it slid from its spot slightly. The studio was just off campus, being connected to a huge auditorium that had a large stage for their dancers to…well dance.

He stopped in front of the building, grimacing up at the sign that hung off the front of the building “Esmerelda's dance hall” he read, sighing he looked back down at his clothes.

Evie had signed herself up to make some new clothes for him to dance in, and at the moment he was in a flowy white t-shirt, slightly baggy black sweatpants, and wearing his new converse. (he had a feeling he would have to change out of them though) “Let's get this over with” he muttered, walking up the steps and into the building.

He stepped through the doors and looked around, to the left was a reception desk, at least that’s what it looked like, and to the right was a café looking room, with vending machines and a mini kitchen. “Hello! Welcome to Esmerelda's dance hall! Are you a new student?” Harry turned back to look at the desk, now a middle-aged blonde woman sat in the chair behind it, a kind smile on her face.

“I guess” Harry muttered, walking up to the desk and handing her the paper the consular had given him to give to ‘Ms. Smith’ and the woman behind the desks nameplate read ‘Mira Smith’ so he guessed she was the person who he had to give the paper too. “I was told ta give this ta yeh” Mira nodded and took the paper, humming to herself and typing on her computer.

“Yep, got you right here, Harry Hook. You’ll be starting out in the beginners class for teens since we assumed you had no prior dance experience” Harry quirked his brow. He had dance experience just…not the type they did in this school probably. “The school is paying for your classes so you won't have to worry about any payments, follow me!” Mira stood and walked out from behind the desk, leading Harry down the long hallway of doors, each having a number and letter on the wood.

“Your classes, for now, will take place in D-A, with Mr. Bert. Hes our beginner teacher, all our students love him, they say he makes everything very fun and entertaining” Harry didn’t respond, looking at the walls and through the small windows to the rooms. “Well, here you are! Have fun Harry” Mira opened the door and gestured inside, where a good group of teens his age stood, all getting ready for the class. Some were stretching while others just talked to their friends.

Harry stepped through the door, pressing his lips together as some of the teens turned to look at him, brows raising bit. He could recognize some of them from Auradon prep. Harry held down a flinch as a hand clamped on his shoulder “You must be Harry, eh?!” Harry turned to look, seeing a kind-looking man with black hair and blue eyes, a smile on his face.

Harry wasn’t one to trust someone as soon as he saw them but this man just had odd energy that Harry felt like he could trust. Harry felt himself relax and nodded to the man, who held out his hand to Harry. “I’m Bert!” Bert had an odd Boston accent, which again, made Harry feel oddly safe. Harry shook his hand, yelping quietly as Burt pulled him into the group of teens “Now, grab a pair of those black ballet shoes, don’t worry they’re new and ya get ta keep ‘em, and get em all tied up on ya’, and the same ta’ the rest of ya’! get all ready and stretch!” Bert released Harry's hand and walked around the room, helping some of the younger teens stretch and put their shoes on.

Harry looked for his size in the shoes and found one pair left ‘how convenient’ he thought, grabbing the pair and moving over to the wall that had only one other teen sitting against it. He took off his bag and slid down the wall, taking off his converse and replacing it with the ballet shoes.

As Harry got his shoes changed, Bert announced to the new students that had also joined that day; that beginner classes were only an hour-long, and there was no lesson plan, for now, it was learning basics and just having fun with dance. He also said he would teach them to dance along to a song called ‘step in time’. But first, stretching.

Harry mindlessly followed along with the instruction; Harry didn’t want to be here in the first place so he didn’t really feel like trying. “uh, Harry?” Harry looked up, seeing Bert staring wide-eyed at him “have ya ever had any previous dance experience? Gymnastics even?” Harry shook his head, not knowing why Bert was asking “You’re about a half-foot away from a full side split” Harry looked down, raising his brows in slight shock.

It was true, Harry's legs were almost horizontal from his hips “well would yeh look at tha’” Harry muttered, leaning forward a bit, hearing some of the girls of the class gasp in slight jealously.

“How the heck is he doing that! I've been doing gymnastics since I was two and I can't even do that!” a black girl with Bantu knots whispered to her friend, who started starry-eyed at Harry.

“I know… it’s kinda hot” the friend whispered back, laughing slightly as the first girl gently tugged at her hair “I’m sorry it is!” the first girl smirked and smacked the second's thigh.

“You are such a simp” she chortled turning her attention back to Bert and Harry, to which Bert was testing Harry's flexibility, to Harry's slight embarrassment.

“Do you feel any pain like that?” Harry looked down at his almost full side spit and shook his head, he didn’t even realize he had done it. “Could you try to do a full one?” Harry stared at Bert for a moment then shrugged, spreading his legs further and now sitting in a full side split “Well butter my britches” Bert laughed, rubbing his head “and they told me ya were a full on beginner!”

Harry sniffed and moved his legs back into a normal position, now sitting cross-legged as Bert patted his head and went back to stand in the front of the group, clapping his hands to gain his attention “Alright! Now let's start with the basics!”

If Harry had been taking the class willingly? He would have enjoyed it wholeheartedly because Mira was right; Bert did make the class very fun. But due to Harry being forced to take the class, he had hated every second. Bert had seemed to realize Harry wasn’t into it and left harry alone most of the time, but he still checked on him during the hour of class.

“Remember to grab the schedule on your way out! Class is same time same place tomorrow! Have a good day!” Harry finished tying up his shoes and stood, shuffling his new dance shoes into his bag, and made his way out of the class, giving a halfhearted finger wave to Bert as he walked out.

He walked behind his class, not wanting to mingle with any of them. He stopped, looking to his right as he noticed an open door. He blinked in slight surprise, inside was a whole group, much more experienced than his class, practicing what seemed to be ballet, the girls wearing shoes that allowed them to stand on their toes.

His eyes locked onto a particular girl, wearing a light blue leotard and an even lighter blue sheer skirt that almost looked silver. Her skirt flared as she performed a set of spins, her head almost sticking to one spot as she did.

Harry had never seen ballet before, at least in person, so he stood slightly mesmerized as she danced, she stopped her spin and moved gradually on her toes, moving about the room in a way that Harry could only describe as ‘flowing water’. The girl turned once more, bright (e/c) eyes locking with his.

Harry felt his breath hitch as a sudden rush of butterflies erupted in his gut, flying about his body and filling his mind. ‘wha-‘ Harry mentally stuttered, taking a step back from the class as he felt his face heat up. The girl still had her eyes on him, but they were filled with slight confusion and interest. ‘I-I I have to go’ Harry turned and ran for the exit, not noticing the girl's classmates walk over to the door and look after him, some of them giggling to themselves.

“Oh he’s pretty!” “Think he’s a new student?”

“Oh def, did you see his outfit!? Besides, I heard that Mr. Bert got a new student today from Auradon prep, I think that was him”

“(y/n), do you recognize him?” Anita Beaucop turned to you from the door, she wasn’t from Auradon prep so she couldn’t have known who Harry was.

“Yes,” you mumbled, resting against one of the beams against the wall. “Harry Hook, one of the new villain kids, Chad calls him a filthy pirate” Anita rolled her eyes and sauntered over to you, grabbing a water bottle from her bag and cracking it open.

“Well,” Anita huffed, her French accent strong as usual “your brother is an asshole, both of us know not to trust him, if Chad doesn’t like Harry, then you should make friends, piss him off and all that” you giggled at that, covering your mouth as Emma, another one of your class friends who didn’t go to Auradon prep, leaned into your space, her eyes drifting back toward the door.

“Do you know If Harry's single?” she purred, her smirk dropping as you shrugged.

“I don’t know, he hangs around Uma a lot, and from what I see he seems really into her” Emma pouted, and crossed her arms.

“I got no shot with that hunk then, Uma’s hot as fuck.” the entire room agreed, including Javis and Saki in the corner of the room, who were both very much into men. “See, even Javis agrees!”

“Just because I don’t like anything on the menu doesn’t mean I can’t apricate it” Javis snorted, downing a granola bar as he did a small stretch session. You snorted and rolled your eyes, fixing your skirt and getting back into the starting position as Esmerelda looked back up from her cd player.

“Okay! Let's run it from the top again! Last round ladies! Then we can all go home and relax” As the gentle music began to play and you started to dance, you couldn’t help but think about the striking ocean blue eyes that sent a spark through your soul.

-end of part 1-

Part one of a new series, not gonna be a long one, maybe 5 parts at least-most…dunno which it's gonna be but, yeah! If you couldn’t guess, (y/n) is Chad's sister (fraternal twin but since its x reader you look like you and not automatically a female version of Chad) and isn’t like him, takes more after her mom n stuff. And yeah we got some simps in (y/n)s class lol.

Hope you enjoyed and will enjoy the next parts (to which I have no clue where this fic is actually gonna go I had a beginning and ending part to it and that was all lol, so lets see how this turns out)

permtaglist

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange @lunanight2012

@daughter-of-the-stars11 @musicarose @random-thoughts-003

@remembered-license @thecaptainsgingersnap @rintheemolion

@imtryingthisout @verboetoperee @jatp-rules-my-life

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #dancer reader #chads sister reader

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 3 years

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Agent Whiskey - NSFW Alphabet

Figured why not share my own fics on here too haha. This here is my NSFW Alphabet for Agent Whiskey from Kingsman : The Golden Circle Rating: Mature/Explicity Warnings: smut, sex, piv sex, bondage (rope), dom/sub, praise kink, and oral sex Written with a x f!reader perspective Masterlist AO3 link. Join my taglist via here! My fics will be uploaded to AO3 first but I will try to remember to upload them here as well!

______ A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) Jack is super caring afterwards. He makes sure to get you both cleaned up if any mess, makes sure you’re not injured in any way after usage of any toys and is super snuggly. He cuddles you in his arms and covers you in kisses, telling you how much he adores you until you both fall asleep. B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Jack’s favorite body part of himself is obviously his cock. I mean have you seen the man? He radiates big dick and cocky energy lmao. To him it’s his greatest asset. He knows how to use it and is proud of that. His favorite body part of yours is your ass. He loves to grab handfuls of it when your having sex or cuddling, and he loves to give it a little smack or pinch when in passing. He likes the plumpness of it. C = Cum (Anything to do with cum) He produces a lot of it :x His favorite places to release it are inside you and on your stomach. He’ll clean up the mess afterwards but loves to see you glistening with it. Like he's marked you as his. D = Dirty Secret (A dirty secret of theirs) He’ll never tell you but… he secretly loves teasing you and doing dirty things with you in public. He’s only done it once (you were so embarrassed after words and got onto him) but it makes him smile and chuckle seeing you get all riled up and trying to hide it. He doesn’t care if anyone sees or finds out, he’ll find a way to get rid of them or shut up. It’s just all part of his love for teasing you. E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Jack is up there in age so he’s got a lot of experience under his belt. He knows all the right places to touch. He’s had many endeavours plus he was married for a while. In short, he definitely knows his way around. F = Favorite Position Save a horse, ride a cowboy ya know. Jack loves it when you ride him. He likes to watch you bounce up and down on his dick, being able to look you in the eyes. Mostly forward but doesn’t mind reverse either. G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) Jack can be goofy very often. He loves to goof around with you and make you laugh. He’s a goofy flirt too. However, when in the moment he pushes that aside for the most part and becomes very serious and romantic. Rarely is he goofy when in the moment. H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) He keeps it well groomed. Always trimmed short of shaven down as best as can. Only times it’s out of control somewhat is when he’s gotten back from a long mission where he had not time to worry about such a thing. I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) Jack is super romantic. He loves to give you tender kisses, caress your skin, and whisper sweet nothings to you. He loves to praise you. He can get rough when in the moment at times if feeling it, still putting the romance behind it however. J = Jack Off (Masturbation head canon) He’s away on missions a lot so when away from you and craving you he’s got to find a way of release. He often times will get off in his office behind his desk as well if in the mood. K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) 1. Jack likes to use rope. It comes from his lasso usage at work. He just finds it fun to tie you up, seeing you wriggle as he teases you and him being able to take charge. 2. He likes to be praised back .L = Location (Favorite places to do the do) He has no preference where you do it. Anywhere and anytime. The bed, the sofa, his office… M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) His motivation is literally just your being. You and everything having to do with you motivates and gets him going. That’s how in love with you he is. N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs) Jack might like to get rough at times but he would never go too far as to cause you to cry or leave a mark on you. He doesn’t want to cause you straight up pain. Only pleasure pain. He also refuses to share you. You are for him and him only. O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) Jack loves to give you oral. He likes to taste you and loves that he can make you cum with just his mouth so easily. He also loves when you go down on him. He loves to watch you fuck himwith your mouth, something about it he finds so beautiful. P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) Jack likes a mixture. Starting out slow and sensual and working his way up to rough and fast. Sometimes though he’ll go slow and sensual the entire time, and other times fast and rough. Depends on the mood. Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) If an urge passes through him and he can get away with doing a quickie he is down for it. He prefers proper sex but he’ll take what he can at times. R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) Jack is always down to experiment and bring new things to the table but he doesn’t want to do anything that you don’t want to. He’ll take risks only so far. Again, he doesn’t want to cause you actual pain, only pleasure pain. S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) While he is up there in age that doesn’t stop him. He still can go like he used to years ago. He can last a few rounds. His stamina is up thanks to his field of work. Takes a lot to wear him out. He'll keep going as long as he can and you're willing. T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) Only “toys” he owns is rope. As stated he likes to use it to tie you up. He isn't opposed to trying others though if you are. Whether it be on you or on himself. U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Jack loves to tease you and get you riled up. He’s a flirt what do you expect. He loves to torment you and get you all excited, leaving you on the edge to beg for him until he finally gives in. V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) He’s got a mouth on him, we all know that. He likes to talk a lot in the bedroom by giving you praises. Now for his moans he is all over the board. He has no control over them for they fluctuate depending on how turned on he is and how much he likes something. W = Wild Card (Get a random head canon for the character of your choice) Jack is a dominant person in the bedroom. He likes to be the one to take charge and be in control but he isn’t afraid to let you have some control too on occasions. X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants) He’s packin’. I mean … big dick energy. We been knew. At least 8 inches in length and thick. No wonder it’s his favorite asset. Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) He’s got a high drive. Jack is rearing and ready to go pretty much whenever. He’s a horny motherfucker. Just the slightest tease from you can get him riled up and hard in a matter of minutes. Z = ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep afterward) He falls asleep fairly quickly, age and all causes that but not until after a good cuddle session.

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #fanfic #ao3 #kingsman #kingsman golden circle #jack daniels #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader

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daily-dose-of-imagines · 3 years

Text

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪꜱ ɢᴏɴᴇ | ʟᴇᴠɪ ᴀᴄᴋᴇʀᴍᴀɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛ

After thinking about it and reading Admin T’s angsty fic, I too, have decided to post my own angsty fic, and why not a Levi one? SKSKSK He’s the one that comes to me the easiest when it comes to writing anything, so I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did with writing it~!

Please note there will be canon divergence (mainly as I haven’t caught up in the manga or anime in a hot second)

And yes, I listened to Love is Gone by Slander & Dylan Matthew to get in the mood LOLOL

PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

TW: Major Character Death ; Depressive episodes ; PTSD ; Mental Instability ; Body Mutilation

» » Admin Ko

“Levi! LEVI! GET OUT OF HERE! PLEASE! GET AWAY---”

A sharp inhale and the bright white light of the morning sun was all that welcomed the ex-corporal as he sat rigidly in his bed. Slowly, frantic metallic blue eyes skimmed down to battered and scarred hands as he watched his body move in an odd state of delirium. Oddly fixated on the way his knuckles paled and how tightly he grasped his sheets, Levi hadn’t even realized the painful sting in his lungs as the cool slick of sweat dripped down the nape of his neck.

It was a barrage of movements from there, his eyes remaining unfocused as he watched the chaos that spilled in his bedroom from an out of body perspective. It was...odd to say the least. He watched familiar faces come to calm his body down, easing him back into a sense of reality as he watched the cogs in his own face work to ease up the grip he once had on the sheets and the trembling he had ceased.

Another flash and he found himself back in his own body, blankly staring down at his scarred hands once again. The room was left barren all over again as he found himself staring out the window and into the gorgeous scenery before him.

It hadn’t been that long since they had discovered the truth behind the entire catastrophe they found themselves in, yet it felt as though it was ages ago since he’s stepped forth outside. Or had it? If Levi were being honest, he couldn’t remember shit, and that itself only added to his agitation as he glared at the empty walls he was trapped in.

“Fuck...”

Clenching his teeth, the ex-corporal forced himself to get out of bed. A strange tug in his heart drew him towards the desk hidden within the corner of the room. Strewn across the poorly put together desk were notes, plans, letters, photographs, and...a locket?

Perhaps it was his age that was getting to him, or maybe it was the heat, but what was so important about this shitty piece of jewelry? Slowly picking up the accessory, Levi gave a brief once over to it before feeling a scoff build in his throat.

“Tch, it’s probably Lt. (L/N)’s.....”

Slowly, the words faltered from falling out of his throat as he felt his heart skip a beat. Cool metallic blue hues suddenly vibrant with evident fear as flashes of red and torn limbs flashed in his eyes. The quickening of his breath went unheard as he suddenly leaned over the table. Those scarred hands that have seen days of combat suddenly felt numb as the telltale sign of pins and needles crawled their way down to his fingers.

“Levi? Levi~~ Levi! LEVI!”

Flashes of her face swam through his vision as the once clear image of his desk became fragmented as he dropped to the floor. He didn’t even feel his knees dig into the floor-- rather he couldn’t care less as he desperately clung onto the locket as the memories from a week ago resurfaced into his mind. The tears that he once thought had dried up began pouring down his cheeks as the ache in his chest multiplied.

»»————- ♪ ————-««

The rustling of leaves caught his attention. Despite the cool weather they’ve finally been given it still brought the ex-corporal a sense of unease as he watched the small party work around in gathering materials whilst discussing their next plan of action.

It hadn’t been long since they’ve dealt with Kenny and his gang, but if Levi was certain of one thing it was that he didn’t want to cross paths with that man ever again. Already he barely managed to scrape by whilst making sure their original plan had worked.

“Oi, dipshit.”

“Tch.”

No matter how hard he sought to smack that cheeky smile off of her face, he never found the heart to do it. Not when she held his with such a pretty smile.

“You’re spacing out again. Kenny’s bullshit still getting to you?”

“...”

“Oh come on, you can tell me~.”

“Fuck off.”

“Oooh~ Touchy touchy. Look, if it makes you feel any better, I thought you were pretty badass!”

A skip to his heart. Something that wasn’t uncommon when he found himself with her. Of course he’d never let her know, instead he gave her a roll of his eyes before kicking her away.

“Get back to work.”

“Fine fine~. Oh! But in all seriousness, whatever is looming in that brooding mind of yours, just remember we still got the plan done. Whatever happened in the past is whatever. We just gotta look toward the future, yeah?”

“...tch. Hurry up and get the fuck over there already. Those damn shit wads look like they’re going to break their backs.”

A mock salute, one that he found endearing in her own quirky way though when he least suspected it she was right back up in his face. A cocky little smirk graced her lips before those chapped yet soothingly familiar feel of her lips brushing his own registered in his brain, and before he could react she was merrily skipping towards the struggling ex-cadets.

“...you’re damn lucky I love you shitty (y/n)...”

➽───────────────❥

BANG

“Fuck! Fuck! What the fuck!”

BOOM BOOM CRASH

“HOW THE FUCK DID THEY GET HERE?! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!”

SCREEEEEECCHHHHHHH

Hell on earth, better known as the mass migration of Titans. One minute he was seated with Armin. Easily discussing strategies and the next movement for their plans. The moment he blinked the makeshift tents they had were on fire. Smoke was rising to the skies and the screams of people filled his ears. Immediately, Levi reacted. Rushing to grab his swords he mentally checked off a list of what needed to be done. Yet before he could even reach his own gear the hissing telltale sign of someone whisking into action caught his ears.

The reaction was immediate as he looked up to see fierce (e/c) hues. Calloused hands he’s held plenty of times underneath tables were now clenched tightly around her swords as she went about luring as many titans away as she could.

“...evi, Levi, CAPTAIN LEVI!”

Shocked out of his stupor he turned to face Connie who was frantically grabbing at his arm as he finally took the chance to take in the scene before him.

Whatever carts they had salvaged were packed away with what little they could save. The bodies of those who had already fallen were hanging from the trees and already in the distant background he saw the revolting sight of a wretched up human meatball.

“Status?”

“We’ve lost at l-least a couple of hands. Captain (y/n) told us to gather as much as we could and to gain distance while she distracts them--”

“Is there back up with her?”

“..N-No sir...”

“Are you fucking STUPID? Tch, get moving Springer. (y/n) and I will catch up shortly.”

“B-But”

“Did. I. Stutter.”

“N-No sir...”

“Then get moving!”

Not even taking the chance to watch the male rush back to the small party of cadets, Levi hurriedly put his harness and gear on in record time before whisking himself towards the sound of gurgling and inhumane sounds.

“Just stay alive....please, I can’t lose you too...”

➽───────────────❥

Horrific. That’s the best that he could describe the sight before him. The carcasses of fallen allies and titans alike littered the ground as the once distant storm clouds drew in close. The light sprinkling of rain undoubtedly triggered a wave of unnecessary deja vu as he trudged on until he saw a lone figure standing a top the last titan from the herd.

Suddenly, the once tight hold around his heart loosened as a breath he didn’t know he was holding finally escaped his throat as he relaxed his stance.

“Oi shit for brains. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“Oh! Levi! I thought you were with the others?”

“And leave a shitty captain like you to half ass the job?”

“Heh, you know it’s okay to admit you were worried about me stupid. It’s just us.”

Another roll of his eyes was given as he begrudgingly made his way towards her, a half assed smile gracing his features as he held his hand out towards her.

“Tch, you’re lucky I fucking love you shit for brains.”

The smile she gave was blinding. One that he surely could never find an immunity to as he savored the warmth of her calloused hand in his own scarred and tainted ones.

“Heh~ I love you too shitty corporal~.”

With that, the pair began their journey towards the base. A brief conversation in regards to how much compressed air was left in their tanks being their main worry as they walked. Though as that continued the rain that had once sprinkled began to heavily pour down. A sound of irritation left his lips as she lightly laughed, easily scooting herself closer to him as he begrudgingly wrapped an arm around her waist.

“This rain makes things just as bad, doesn’t it?”

“Yea---”

“....Levi?”

“Sh!”

Immediately a sense of dread filled his chest as he tugged her towards a tree, quickly hiding by the base as the loud crashes and thumps of footsteps prevailed throughout the lands.

“...dammit....how much gas do you have left?”

“....Enough to swing by two of those big ass trees.”

A grimace. Again, that pool of dread seemed to fill faster as he subconsciously held onto her tightly. He had enough gas to swing back to at least the vicinity of the planned meet up spot, but with an additional body? He wasn’t sure. Perhaps if he were able to split it.

“We’re switching tanks--”

“No we’re not. You are going to keep your goddamn tanks and I’ll keep mine. Worse comes to worse you leave me here.”

“I’m not leaving you--”

A quick kiss to his lips as her fists bunched up his dress shirt. If he felt a tremble in her hands or the way her lips wobbled he didn’t mention it.

“Look. We both know that between the two of us you’re the one who has the best deduction and quick thinking. If it had to be one or the other....it has to be you.”

“Shut the fuck up. We’re going back together.”

“Levi...”

“No! shut the fuck up. I’m not leaving you behind. I’ve lost too many fucking people! I can’t lost you too! You’re....you’re all I have left in this shitty world...please (y/n)...”

Though before she could even reply a sharp scream came from her as he was roughly pushed to the side. On instinct her hands moved to hold the swords attached to her hips before jetting off for a nearby tree.

In response, the large titan moved for her. It’s large beady eyes leering at it’s new prey as she tightly grasped her blades.

“(y/n)!”

Levi didn’t even recognize his own voice as he went to grab his own swords. His fingers itching to press the triggers for the canisters, yet he was cut short at her voice and the shaky glare she gave him. One that only further plummeted his heart into his stomach as she gave him a trembilng grin.

“I got this! Just go and don’t turn back okay? I’ll be right behind you!”

“BULL SHIT. YOU BARELY HAVE ENOUGH GAS IN THOSE TANKS--”

“WELL I WAS LYING OKAY? NOW GO! I CAN HANDLE THIS ONE!”

“THEN LET’S---”

ROOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR

As if the distress wasn’t enough, the quick rumbling of earth and stone had both captains pale as (y/n) tightly held onto her blades. Her gaze no longer on the titan before her, but rather the hoard that was nearing their now disclosed location.

“...Levi you have to go.”

“No. We’re doing this together.”

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE PLEASE LEVI! JUST GO. YOU WON’T HAVE ENOUGH GAS BY THE END OF THIS JUST PLEASE GO!”

“WHAT IF I DON’T GIVE A FLYING FUCK? I’M NOT LEAVING YOU SHIT FOR BRAINS!”

Gritting her teeth, she mustered up as much strength as she could as she hurriedly reached for the smoke gun. Without a moment’s notice, she shot the pellet. A trail of black littering the skies as she gave the other a glare.

“THERE. THEY’LL COME HERE TO HELP SO PLEASE GO AND BRING THEM HERE. I CAN HANDLE THIS ONE MYSELF AND THEN I’LL SWING UP.”

Gritting his teeth, he could only give her a stern glare as he reluctantly did as he was told. Without a moment’s delay he shot forth, desperate in tracking the familiar wagon to bring back reinforcements as the sound of a titan hitting the floor brought him a sense of ease.

“Damn you (y/n) you better keep your fucking word!”

. . .

“I’m sorry Levi...I lied...I don’t have enough to swing up...”

Teary eyed, she let her tanks drop to the grounds below as her racing heart seemed to be in beat with the thundering steps of the hoard of titans on their way towards the sound of the fallen one’s cry. Subconsciously, she pressed her fist to her chest. Why? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she just had to keep it safe for him.

➽───────────────❥

Upon spotting the rickety wagon, Levi jetted straight for the reins. His eyes frantic as the leftover cadets near him seemed shaken by his brutish actions. He didn’t necessarily care though. What mattered to him was reaching (y/n)’s side with her seated on one of the thick branches with that cheeky grin he adored while he and the rest of the moving cadets could annihilated the hoard of titans.

Yet when he returned the pit in his stomach formed into that of utter despair. Where he should’ve seen (y/n) he found nothing. Instead, he saw the tattered remains of her cloak pinned to the tree as the hoard of demons fought over something...some...thing...some...one.

He didn’t know what happened next. Rather he couldn’t. As if his lungs had suddenly malfunctioned and stopped working. He hadn’t even realized he had jetted out from the wagon. All he saw was a glimpse of her bloody face and suddenly he saw red.

It was an utter rampage. Sounds of desperation, anger, and hurt filled the skies as the rain continued to pour down relentlessly. The titans that had once stood tall now laid in horrifying dismembered piles. (y/n)’s body-- rather what was left of it.

Ripped from the torso down, her legs were practically disintegrated. Most likely stewing away in one of the fallen titans’ bodies. A brief flash of her spine had most turning away to vomit, yet Levi stared lifelessly. His body trudging slowly to her as his lower lip wobbled. The pain in his chest multiplied tenfold as those warm (e/c) were glassy and unfocused.

I'm sorry, don't leave me I want you here with me

Dropping to his knees, he gently cupped her cheeks as he pressed his forehead to hers. A shaky breath finally escaping him as he struggled to take in another breath of air as the rain continued it’s assault on him.

I can't breathe, I'm so weak

“Fuck... come on shit for brains... open those beautiful eyes for me...come on...yeah? You said we were gonna go see those damn pink trees...right?”

No response. Not that anyone had expected one. Forcefully breathing in he forced a weak smile onto his trembling features as his sight began to blur.

“C’mon (y/n)...stop playing these fucking games and look at me...c’mon.... I know you can dumbass...”

The pain in his chest amplified as the lack of response continued to shake her. An attempt to wake her up as he blatantly ignored the lack of legs and the disgustingly slow plops of viscera staining the grassy floors.

“Fucking shit (y/n) wake the fuck up. I’m tired of these fucking games. If you keep doing this bullshit I wont take you to see those damn trees you’re obsessed with when we fix this shit...”

Flashes of bodies. Each familiar to him in their own sickening way as a wretched sob came out of his chest. Desperately, he held her close. The care he had for his clothes now out the window as he buried his face into the crook of her neck as he shook with rage and absolute pain.

Don't tell me that your love is gone That your love is gone

➽───────────────❥

The ride was silent. Just the clopping horseshoes whilst he tightly held onto the bundle that was, in his words, a sleeping (y/n).

“...Captain?”

“What is it Arlert?”

Despite the clear hoarseness in his voice, Levi still held a bite to his voice. The lack of emotion in his eyes was pitiful, especially knowing how many loved ones the man has lost.

“...As we were cleaning Captain (y/n) up...we...found this.”

A tilt of his head was given, and before he could ask any questions the glittering of metal caught his attention.

“It’s a locket...I apologize I peeked inside...but I feel as though she would want you to have this.”

»»————- ♪ ————-««

Red rimmed eyes stared at the photo. It was something she had suggested-- stupid if you had asked him in the moment, but at this moment he couldn’t help but tightly hold onto the only photo of her left. Bringing the locket to his chest, the strong captain curled up into a ball as a new wave of emotions overcame him.

Having cried all his tears out, all that came out of him left were weakened whimpers and desperate heavy breaths as he tightly curled around the locket. The demolished state of the room proved to be a perfect depiction of his mind as the letters she wrote for fun back then were sprawled all around him. The sheets from the bed now in a makeshift nest around him as bloodied hands cupped the locket.

“Why was it you...why couldn’t it have been me?”

A flash of her smile. The sweet harmonies of her laughter. Adoring warm (e/c) hues.

“...why couldn’t it have been m e?”

#attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman #aot levi #tiny bit of angst #oops i meant a fuck ton #tw; major character death #tw; depression #tw; ptsd #tw; mental instability #tw; body mutilation

160 notes · View notes

ayzrules · 3 years

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✶ 𝐇𝐗𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒: 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 & 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒, 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 & 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 Long story short, I have been thinking about this for wayyyyy too long now and wanted to get some ~thoughts~ & analysis written down! This post is going to be...fairly long, lol. Apologies in advance :D

Also, if you can’t see the last gif (the one for ‘holy’), click here. Tumblr keeps fucking up the image when i try to upload it :////

This post is probably going to be about 2/3 yorknew & phantom troupe/kurapika focused, 1/3 chimera ants, maybe with some references to other arcs (including manga-only arcs) mixed in. so, ofc, tons of spoilers ahead! also, i realize that my blog theme is hard to read (and i’m p sure clicking ‘keep reading’ sends you to the og post itself), so i’m linking the post w/ full text copy/pasted in on my art backup side blog (which has a more legible font) here.

✶ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 I’m sure absolutely nobody is surprised with me starting here - there is just. SO. MUCH. DEATH. in hxh. & right from the start, one thing I noticed that togashi really emphasized was the #4 and its connection to death. in japanese, chinese, and im p sure some other asian cultures the number 4 is pronounced like the word for death so it’s associated with death in general, and boy oh boy does the ‘deadly number 4′ thing show up E V E R Y W H E R E. we get to the hunter exam, and hisoka is applicant #44. kurapika is #404. i didn’t notice it at first, but this was so intentional holy shit. togashi is NOT SUBTLE.

So pika & hisoka are, right off the bat, associated with death. okay. and then there are even more clues to drive the point home: hisoka is member #4 in the phantom troupe, kurapika’s birthday is april 4th (aka 4/4). 100% not a coincidence (!!). with hisoka, it’s pretty obvious why togashi’s throwing all this death 444444 stuff around - dude is a psycho murder pedo clown, literally gets off on killing people (and there’s also the fact that judas sits 4th from the left in the last supper painting, and he’s sort of the judas equivalent for the phantom troupe). with kurapika, though, it’s a bit more subtle and woven deeper into his characterization, which i LOVE. togashi puts the mans in blue & gold & white (traditionally ‘pure’ or ‘heavenly’ colors), makes him so fucking kind & so good-hearted.....when he’s not relentlessly pursuing his revenge, ofc. more on this in the next section, but pika = death. togashi has made that v v v clear.

Backtracking a bit to hisoka, though, I also just wanted to point out the 4 is death symbolism in the fortunes too (GOD i love the fortunes): in one translation, he’s the false fourth moon, and in the og japanese (i think), he’s the false hare (4th in the lunar zodiac or w/e it’s called. i don’t know the japanese cultural influences here, but in the chinese legend that established the zodiac animals, they race across the heavenly river & the top 12 animals got zodiac slots. the hare finished 4th, so it’s #4 in the cycle).

And just as a final note, Tserriednich is the fourth prince of the kakin empire, and also another dude who has a hard-on for murder & other gory shit. again: togashi is not subtle with this, lmfao

✶ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘, 𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘 As probably everyone who’s gotten to yorknew knows, togashi is so 0 fucks given when he wants to be. I mean there’s the whole thing where he just. took New York and decided, Yorknew. LMFAO, but also, he made the main antag of that arc be named chrollo lucilfer, sit around in a ruined church, have a reversed cross coat, pale & dark-haired/dark-eyed, generally dressed in dark colors, very terrible murder guy. liiiike......chrollo x devil symbolism game is 1000/10 at this point lmaooo

And i know absolutely nothing about christianity in general, but pt/kurapika & yorknew arc is just so full of christian imagery/symbolism! one thing that i L O O O O O O V E though is how togashi really blurs the traditional christian-coded good/evil, holy/damned boundaries.

Back to kurapika: he wears gold and blue, his coloring is very stereotypically ‘angelic’, he’s precious and good and kind. his chains are all about ~judgment~ and ~healing~ - some of the chains are also in literal cross shapes, aren’t they? And the chain dagger in his own heart...the imagery is very startlingly similar to the immaculate heart of mary, where the swords stabbing thru the heart apparently represent seven sorrows. IDK much about this stuff other than the visual similarities; literally had to google ‘daggers through heart christianity?’ to even get the name of that thing LOL. anyway, at first, it seems like togashi establishes him as the ‘angel’, the ‘good’, the ‘holy’ in the angel/devil, good/evil, holy/damned dichotomy between him and chrollo.

But that’s not the end of the story. his entire storyline is driven by a huuuuuuuge giant desire for vengeance, first of all, and then there’s the scarlet eyes, which canonically are seen as demonic/cursed/what have you (according to one of the movies or smth? where they show pika as a 10 y/o?), and then we also have red eyes in modern culture being associated w pretty much the same thing (vampires, anyone?). the fight scene with uvo has everything in b&w besides the blood on his face & his red eyes & the moon (<<< more fortune foreshadowing & symbolism, i love to see it), and there are tonssss of scenes where he has to suppress his rage. so all of that is obviously not very angelic of him i would say LOL. in fact, what i find super interesting is that the scarlet/red eyes (which are ‘demonic’) is actually the driving factor behind his super powerful nen abilities; this ties in so well with the fortunes & death associations imo! the fortunes call him the ‘death-bringer’ in one translation, or ‘half-angel, half-death’, so that’s one side of pika = red eyes = death, but there’s also the fact that emperor time is literally draining his life force. so pika = death for both himself and others namely the pt, question mark?

Now for chrollo: togashi’s devil symbolism is EXTREMELY overt with him, but i love the subtler jesus references too. the church thing, obviously, and the st. peters cross which is cuz st peter respected jesus too much & didn’t think he was worthy to die in the same way as him (or something like that, i am the most atheist person in the world & hxh is literally my entire christian education pls) but is also used as an anti-christianity symbol these days. bandit’s secret looks like a bible, lbr, and mans has a cross tattoo.

Other things beyond visuals - 12 spiders, 12 apostles; hisoka’s betrayal, where member #4 can be thought to correspond to judas sitting 4th from left at last supper. and this miiiiight be a bit of a stretch, but i think the meteor city being the place of origin may also play into the blurred line between angel/devil and holy/damned here; meteors are defined as space rocks that are in earth’s atmosphere, becoming incandescent in the process. meteorites are for the kinds that actually reach the ground. and idk, lucifer was cast out of heaven / sky too right? so i think there might be some subtle fallen angel imagery/symbolism playing into the pt as well

✶ 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒) Last section yay! i don’t have as much to say about this, besides when i was making chimera ant arc edits & realized that there might have been some subtle gon/meruem parallels???

So obviously, everyone knows that line killua says to gon - “you are light” - and then i was just remembering that meruem’s name means.... “light that illuminates all” (!!!!). maybe it’s a coincidence, but knowing togashi, i’m leaning towards nahhhh. there HAS TO be some kinda meaning there (!!).

Going back to the events of the chimera ant arc....ooh boy. let’s see: gon is optimistic & hopeful even in the face of kite potentially being dead, killua says he’s light, they find kite & dude is fucked up, gon is pissed. gets all angry & ~dark~, especially during the palace invasion when he’s staring pitou down as she fixes up komugi. then the actual fight against pitou: more darkness, more anger, but through it all there’s still light, namely his jajanken being very orange & fiery lookin.....and that final sequence, where he puts all his possible nen he’d ever have into his ~final form~ or wahtever & turns into a male version of true form!bisky but dressed in a crop top & short-shorts (i am SCARRED, btw. s c a r r e d !). there’s just huuuge flashes of light as that’s going on, and it reminded me of supernovas or dying stars when i was thinking about it, where the star is like, collapsing under its own weight? & burning thru its own fuel, until there’s nothing left except a dwarf or black hole or what have you. one final, extremely deadly burst of light & energy before death.

On the meruem side of things: born into a dark cave, exhibits a traditionally evil/cruel/wicked/whatever personality/traits so that has ppl associating him with darkness. then he gets to know komugi, starts to appreciate other aspects of humanity, seems like he could have actually turned into a decent person who doesn’t want to eat everyone - so that’s a ‘path to light’, maybe? - and then the extermination team yeets themselves into the palace, netero takes him out to bumfuck nowhere, they fight. netero’s fighting is just ALL light, from his giant ass golden 100-type guanyin bodhisattva to the poor man’s rose. again, there’s the sense of finality to it all, in a similar vein to dying stars: netero comes in determined to kill meruem no matter what, and we all know netero doesn’t flake. then we see netero get destroyed after the zero hand, and he triggers the rose, and everything is burning & on fire before the flames are put out and all turns dark again.

But wait!!! pouf & youpi revive meruem and all he does is play gungi with komugi, even with the poison of the rose. he eventually dies, and the gungi pieces in that final shot of them together (i am BAWLING just thinking about it holy shit) has one that’s all white, one that’s a black ring and white inside. i assume all white is for komugi, who has never done ANYTHING wrong in her LIFE, so i like to think that the 2nd one is for meruem - born “into darkness”, literally & figuratively, but he turns something like ‘good’ by the end. it’s interesting how togashi has sort of gone for a bit of a subversion here: the hero going from light to darkness, and the main antag from darkness to light.

✶ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 AahhhhHHHHHhhh so if you read all the way down here through my LONG rambles, tysm! i would LOVE LOVE LOVE to hear what other people think about all this, and i’ve FOR SURE missed tons and tons of stuff - chimera ants is just. SO MUCH. and i don’t know it as well as yorknew eeek.

I’m not sure if i’m really ~knowledgeable~ in any other areas relating to hxh, so this might be the only one of these that i do, but i definitely think about some of this - esp all the religious symbolism & #4 stuff - a ton! so in the meantime, if it’s of any interest, i’m just going to shamelessly plug my hxh x religious beliefs/superstitions edit series :D lots of love to all!!!

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beatlebachelor · 3 years

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May I? : Cedric diggory x reader

summary: your Cedrics best friend and you begin to realise your genuine feelings for him after he enters the Tri-wizard tournament only to find out he feels the same. hufflepuff reader!

Warnings: possibly fluffy?

Word count: 2,257

Y/N - your name

Y/E/C - your eye colour

This is my first time writing one of these so if there is any way you think i could improve please feel free to give suggestions!

Its Monday morning, 9:10 to be precise, me and my friends Cedric, Hermione, Harry and Ron were all sat down having breakfast in the great hall. Despite the fact me and Cedric were in Hufflepuff and the other three were Gryffindor we always sat together. Cedric was two years older than us and did get teased about hanging out with third years but it didn’t bother him, he enjoyed our company. I often hoped he favoured mine especially.

After everyone had finished their food Dumbledore stood up to do his weekly Monday morning speech, but it felt different this morning. “Is that Bartemius Crouch?” Hermione inquired. “Who?” Harry said cautiously. As Hermione went to answer she was quickly interrupted by Dumbledore as his voice bellowed through to the other side of the hall.

“Today, I get to announce something very special and to help me we have Sir Bartemius Crouch from The Ministry of Magic. Hogwarts has been selected to host a famous wizarding event. The Tri-Wizard Tournament!” suddenly there were many whistles, cheers and whispers coming from all four tables, me and Cedric looked at each other in immense delight but everything suddenly stopped when Dumbledore spoke again. “There have been some new rules put in place this year to ensure more safety for our students, after all this is a very dangerous competition. Sir Bartemius Crouch, if you will” a few small whispers formed from different areas of the hall. Ron whispered to us all “if any of you enter this competition ill be praying for you, this tournament is the real thing, so many people that have entered this died just from the first round” What Ron said shook me up a little, part of me knew that Cedric would give into whatever temptation he had to enter.

After all the whispers had finished Bartemius walked up to stand beside Dumbledore. He pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket where he had obviously written a speech. The room began to feel slightly tense. “From this year onward those who enter and compete in the Tri-wizard tournament must be at least 17 years old-” He was suddenly cut off by the majority of the hall shouting and screaming at him. Me, Harry, Hermione and Ron weren't phased by the new rule. None of us were of age anyway and if we were we wouldn’t have entered. Cedric however appeared to be very pleased with himself, he was 17, he could compete, he wasn’t my boyfriend or anything but id known him for ages. What if he entered and got hurt, I don’t want to stop him from doing something he is interested in though because that wouldn’t be fair.

When we all left the hall I went straight to dark arts, I didn’t speak a word to Cedric in fear that if I did I would just break down and cry. I didn’t want to ruin anything for him because I could tell from the look in his eyes that he wanted to win that cup, and if he wanted it then I would want it for him. After all I was his closest friend, friend... that never felt nice to say.

In dark arts I could barely focus, all I could think about was if I liked Cedric, I had known him for so long and never thought about whether how I felt about him was more than just friendship. I mean would it be so bad if I liked him? I couldn’t get him out of my head. UGGGGHHH this is so frustrating. The thought always did cross my mind about how perfect his face was, everything about him in fact, I couldn’t think of a single flaw no matter how hard I tried.

By the time lunch came I still hadn't made up my mind on if I actually fancied Cedric, I mean come on, am I really going to be like every other girl in this school and fall for his charm. And as if he’d ever like me back, by the looks of it he’s probably into one of the Beaxbatons Academy girls just like the rest of the boys in this place. In all fairness it is rather enjoyable to watch them walk, how do they always look like they are floating? Besides the point! Hopefully I'm just unwell, surely that’s the only explanation.

I went straight back to the common room, anything to avoid Cedric, even if it was missing lunch. However, it appeared my plan to avoid Cedric had failed when I walked in to see him sat on the sofa next to the fire. Just him, no one else. “Are you ok?” I asked with a shake in my voice. “Y/N I wanted to talk to you. We have been friends for ages which is why I want your opinion, I trust you” I felt a small flutter of butterflies in my stomach and proceeded to say “you trust me? I mean emm what is it?” that made me feel rather embarrassed. “Well, I was thinking of entering the Tri-wizard tournament but i know how dangerous it is and idk if I'm capable of the magic I will need to protect myself. I also don’t want to hurt anyone if something bad were to happen to me” A horrible feeling formed in my stomach and slowly moved to my throat. The thought of Cedric getting hurt made me feel sick. “Cedric don’t be silly. Your one of the most talented wizards in this whole school and you seriously think you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself. If its what you want then we all want it for you and I will help in whatever way I can to ensure you win” I said that full of confidence, I really did mean it, every word. “Youve always been there for me Y/N, I genuinely don't know what I would do without you” He pulled me in for a hug, I always loved our hugs, my head would always fall in the right place on his chest. He smells so good, almost a musky bark smell with a hint of vanilla. I wondered if he thought the same.

A week passed and it was time for the champions on the Tri-wizard tournament to be announced. First the champion of Beaxbatons, Fleur Delacour. Next the Durmstrang champion, Victor Krum. As the paper for the Hogwarts champion floated down into Dumbledores hand my stomach sunk but then I felt a slight warmth on my hand, I looked down and it was Cedric. He had interlocked his fingers into mine and was gently squeezing them with excitement, I turned to him and smiled he looked directly into my eyes with a slight smirk as his cheeks flushed pink.

Dumbledore read out the name on the paper “And finally the Hogwarts champion is, Cedric Diggory” Cedrics face lit up with pure joy, so did mine, his iridescent blue eyes glistening. He hugged me so tightly for only about 2 seconds, but there it was again, that smell, his scent makes me feel so warm inside. He let go and stood up to go shake Dumbledores hand. Everyone was cheering, mainly the girls, of course it was the girls.

Another week went by and we had been preparing for his first task, dragons, I don’t know what would've happened to Cedric if Harry didn't tip him off. We practised basic spells on how to defend himself against them for hours and hours. Now we would have to see if he remembered them. Whilst in the tent I stayed with Cedric, he asked me to, his words were “your the only one who can keep me calm” After he had picked out his dragon the canon went off, Cedrics eyes glazed over slightly as he turned and gently kissed me on the forehead. He had never done that before, maybe it was just out of nerves. So many thoughts rushed through my head, surely Cedric didn’t like me? By the time I had gathered my thoughts he had already gone. I ran to my place in the audience, right next to Hermione. She asked what took me so long. I didn’t want to tell her but at the same time I did, I gave her a brisk hug and began to watch Cedric in hope that he would succeed and taking the egg.

Cedric managed to complete the first task unharmed within what seemed about 15 minutes. I was so proud of him. When we were all back at the common room I realised I needed to talk to Cedric, about all the hugs and the forehead kiss and most importantly, how I felt, I waited for everyone to head to their rooms and asked Cedric to stay behind. We sat on the sofa with the fire crackling beside us. “I'm so happy you passed the first challenge, I'm really impressed” I paused for a second thinking of how I was meant to say what I needed to say, but then he cut me off. “Y/N, about earlier, when I kissed you on your forehead, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Recently Ive realised how much you mean to me and I don’t want to do anything that your not ok with. I'm sorry if this is forward but I really do like you, its everything about you. Your hair, your smell, your Y/E/C eyes. I'm sorry I sound so stupid right now” A rush of emotions came over me, was I hearing this correctly, did I fall asleep and I'm actually just dreaming. “Cedric, I feel exactly the same, I didn’t want to tell you in case you didn’t feel the same way and then it was too awkward to continue being friends. That’s why I asked you to stay down here with me for a bit” Cedrics cheeks were bright red and he had a happy/embarrassed expression on his face, I could tell mine was doing the exact same. He held onto my hand again, it felt so natural, I usually wasn’t all for the idea of being touched often but when Cedric did it everything felt ok.

A couple hours passed whilst we were just chatting and even played a game of wizards chess. After I began to get tired he walked me to my room holding my hand all the way. When I got to the door he stopped. ”Y/N would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me” I didn’t even have to think “Yes Cedric, I would” He hugged me and let me go into my room.

We practised for the dance for the next two weeks, it was so fun, we rarely took it seriously but that was what made it even better.

Finally, I hope our practise for the dance was worth while considering I have two left feet. I had just finished getting ready, I wore a flowy light blue dress with a few pale pink and beige tones. As I walked down the stairs I bumped into Hermione. She looked so beautiful, her hair was so perfectly done and she was wearing the prettiest pink dress. Had I not made a big enough effort? We continued to walk down the stairs and I noticed Krum was waiting for Hermione, I couldn’t see Cedric so I stood and waited with them both for a bit. And then, there he was, he looked as handsome as ever in his dress robes, a wide smile formed on his face when he looked at me. He slowly walked over “you look absolutely stunning Y/N” he said whilst gently holding onto both of my hands. “Don't look too shabby yourself” I said with a little giggle, he laughed too, he always did tell me that my laugh was contagious.

Once everyone was gathered in the great hall the champions and their partners were ordered to enter as we were the first to dance. We took position. Staring into Cedrics eyes as he held onto my waist made me feel as if we were the only two people in the room, I wasn’t worried, in fact I didn’t feel anything but joy. The music began and we set off. The more I continued to look into his eyes the more natural the dancing felt. Every time he lifted me into the air butterflies formed in my stomach, my dream was always to be able to dance in a ball with a gorgeous boy and now, my dream was coming true.

As the night grew longer me and Cedric remained in the hall dancing for hours upon hours. Eventually we sat down “Tonight has been really fun Y/N” he started “i actually have something to ask you, well Ive been meaning to ask it for a while now actually.” There was only one thing on my mind “sure go ahead” Cedric slowly stood up holding my hand causing me to stand up too. He gently moved the hair from out of my face and put it behind my ear and the proceeded to place his hand on my cheek. His hands were so soft, I could feel the warmth on my skin. My heart was beating so fast. I saw him open his mouth as if he was too scared to say what he wanted to. “May I kiss you” he said silently in a slightly shaky voice. I leaned in closer to him, my lips very nearly touching his. “...yes”

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

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Widower (A Dad!Diego/The Umbrella Academy Fic)

A/N: I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So I am putting it out into the universe. But not actually making it canon (when did the Dad!Diego fics develop a canon? What is life?) so feel free to just pretend it never happened. I just needed to be angsty. Word Count: 1270 Content Warnings: Major Character Death; poorly handled grief; a few well placed swears

It had been a long time since he’d worn black. Ever since Y/N came into his life, he hadn’t felt like he needed it. He could be freer, he could let color in, he could be happy, content.

Eugene squirmed on his lap. The little boy was too young to know what was going on, just that he was uncomfortable in his itchy black baby-sized suit and that he was bored. Maggie knew a little better, in that she sensed that something was wrong, and that he was sad and squirming or complaining were the wrong thing to do. So she sat dutifully beside her father and brother on the hardback chairs, legs swinging slightly, and tried her hardest to be good.

“Hey Diego,” Allison murmured, suddenly appearing in the row behind him, leaning forward to talk softly to her brother, a tenderness between them that wasn’t usually there. “Do you want me to take the kids tonight, give you a little time to...deal with things by yourself?”

He turned to look back at his sister, so tired of being sad that his expression was completely blank, lifeless behind the eyes.

“T-t-t-t-t-that’s…” he closed his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I c-c-c-an’t.”

His stutter hadn’t been this bad since they were just young kids, since he had their father scolding him several times a day for not living up to an impossible standard. Her frown deepened.

“Diego, what do you mean you can't? It wouldn’t be an imposition, and…”

He shook his head. “N-no. If I...i-if th-they’r-re n-not…” his voice dropped to a mumble unable to force his mouth to make sounds at full volume.

“Never s-s-see th-e-em-m ag-g-g-ain,” she managed to catch, and immediately she wrapped her arms around him from their awkward position. Of course after everything that he’d been through this past week that would be his fear. She felt guilty that she hadn’t thought of it right away.

“Oh Diego,” she sighed. “They’ll be alright, I’ll make sure of it. Or I can take them to the Academy, have everyone there to watch out for them. But I understand. As a parent, your kids mean the world to you. We could have a ‘sleepover’ at your place? Me and Claire, and maybe the others?”

He shook his head and opened his mouth to tell her that he’d be okay. But he knew that was a lie. He didn’t think he’d ever be okay again. But all the old habits Y/N had helped him break - the determination that he had to do everything alone and the certainty that he wasn’t allowed to show how he was feeling - came crashing back down around him like prison bars.

“No,” he snapped, pulling away from her comforting touch. “I’ll h-handle it.”

“If you change your mind…”

“I’m fine, Allison.”

“Daddy,” Maggie asked him a few mornings later at breakfast. “W-where’s Mom-my?”

His eyes met her confused and pleading ones, the beat of his heart catching with the familiar skips of her stutter, and something inside him snapped. He dropped to his knees, face buried in his hands.

“Daddy?” she asked, voice as full of concern as a four-year-old’s could be.

But in that moment, tumbling head over heels, around and around, in the black hole of his despair, he could no longer hear his daughter. He couldn’t feel it when her little hand tugged at his shirt. Because it required a person to do those things, and he wasn’t anymore. He was nothing but his grief.

“Diego,” a voice cut through his fugue. He couldn’t remember when he stopped crying, giving in to emptiness instead. There was nothing special about the voice, but something tickled in his mind that said it wasn’t supposed to be there. “Diego, get up.”

He thought he might have shook his head.

“Diego, please,” the voice asked, begged. “Your children need you.”

Klaus. It was Klaus talking to him. What was he doing here? How did he get into his house? Where had he been at the fucking funeral?

He sat up and shoved at the hands on his shoulders, pushing Klaus away from him with a snarl, like a feral animal, full of hate and pain and fear and nothing somehow all at once.

“Okay. Calm down,” he couldn’t remember the last time he had heard Klaus sound so level. Because of course he wasn’t phased. It wasn’t his wife, the love of his life lying in a coffin under a mound of fresh dirt.

“What do you want Klaus?” he snapped, choosing anger over the pain or the numbness he had been cycling through.

“Maggie called me. She’s very hard to understand over the phone. But she said you wouldn’t get up and asked me to come fix it.”

“You can’t. You can’t fix this. Nobody can.” His voice started as a growl and faded to a sigh.

“I know that, Diego. But my niece, your daughter, called and she was scared and what else was I supposed to do? Five’s here too, my chauffeur, entertaining the Squirt and the Bean so I could talk to you.”

“Like you actually care.”

“What?! Of course I care. You’re family, all of you. Including Y/N.”

“Then why didn’t you bother to come to the funeral?”

“I don’t mix well with funeral homes or graveyards. I...just couldn’t.”

Diego frowned, wanting to snap at his brother that he should have been there anyway, but knowing that it wouldn’t have been what she wanted. Y/N had understood Klaus’s fears and nightmares almost instinctively and done everything she could to help him with them. She wouldn’t have wanted him torture himself on her account, not when she wasn’t really there anymore. So he pulled back, shifted into a seated position on the floor, sitting across from Klaus and staring off into the distance.

“Have you...seen her?” he asked after a long while, voice flat.

Klaus shook his head regretfully. “Not yet. I can try again to conjure her, for you right now, if you want?”

Diego thought about it, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Was that what he wanted? In that moment?

“No. Just, if you do find her or however it works, tell her…” he took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to gather the words within him.

“A-ask her why she le-ft,” he blurted out. “Why she a-bb-bandoned us. I c-c-c-an’t do this al-l-lone without her.”

Another sob shook his body and he collapsed like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut. Klaus was quick to catch him, holding his brother up.

“If she had the choice, I’m sure Y/N would have stayed here, for you. But she couldn’t. I know it’s not fair and sucks,” he sighed, thinking of Dave briefly before returning his focus to the matter at hand.

“You’re not alone,” he continued sagely. “I know it’s not the same as her, but you have all of us, if you’d just stop being so goddamn stubborn and let us help you. Team Zero and all that shit or whatever.”

When Diego looked up, his view danced past Klaus to Five in the doorway, Eugene asleep on his shoulder, tiny fist balled in the lapel of Five’s jacket (he still wore that goddamn uniform so often and it was weird, though Y/N had said it made sense, a sense of identity wrapped in blue linen).

“We’re all here for you,” the oldest Hargreeves assured. “And for them.” He nodded his head toward his nephew with a faint, fond smile. “No matter what.”

#Sorry not sorry #ANGST #I am the Angst Fairy Godmother #I am an emotional masochist #Delight and Tremble Before Me #I was just going to write it and then let it go but I'm really proud of how it came out #except maybe the italics abuse #Dad!Diego fic #Diego Hargreeves x reader #The Umbrella Academy fic

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a-fanatic-fangirl-requests · 4 years

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omg i love your blog sm!! i was wondering if you could write an itachi x reader angst?? like it's set during the uchiha massacre and itachi has to yk,, kill his wife aka the reader?? it literally came up to me in a dream! thank you!!

Hi. You have no idea how happy I am I got this request. I’ve been wanting to write this FOREVER. Let me tell you why. So, in one of the Naruto Storm video games, Tobi/Madara is talking to Sasuke, explaining to him about who Itachi had killed and such. Eventually, he mentions he killed his lover and I made a noise between a gasp and a scream. So...I wholeheartedly believe that Itachi having a lover is canon based on the video games and I won’t let anyone take that away from me. That was many many years ago though. But that desire to put it into words has remained and I haven’t seen anything else like this out there, so I’m glad to give it to you!Also, Itachi is aged up to be at least 18. But let’s just say 20 to be safe~ I hope you enjoy the read!

It’s Ok. (Itachi x Fem!Reader)

Warning(s): angst, death, I cried writing this so you better cry reading this

Word Count: 2,531

“Oh my.” A yawn escaped your lips for the fourth time as you made your way back to the Uchiha compound. “I’m more tired than I thought.” You muttered into your hand as a means to conceal the yawn. A small bit of cold metal touched your lips, making you pull your hand away. The silver ring on your finger brought a smile to your face. “How did I get so lucky.” It was a statement, not a question as you would never question the reason why, just glad that it was.

Itachi had sent you on a spa getaway for a few days and nature seeing. The both of you were supposed to go, but of course, the Anbu came first. You weren’t upset by it, it was something that the both of you knew would happen and what was accepted going into the marriage: the village and its safety come first.

However, that did not mean your marriage was accepted by others.

The rest of the clan found it an ill match as Itachi was the pride and joy of the Uchiha clan, while you…you were some ‘nobody’ who barely made it to Chunin rank. It would be a lie to say if it did not bother you at the beginning of the relationship.

“Shh, (F/N), don’t let it bother you.” Itachi’s deep and soothing voice hummed in your ear, curled up in his arms on the couch in your small apartment.

“How can I not?” You sniffled back, nuzzling your way even closer to him only to have his arms tighten around you even more.

A small kiss was placed at your forehead. “Because, they don’t know you. And, unfortunately, they’re telling you all you need to know about them.” Itachi sighed sadly. “I’m sorry they cannot accept the beautiful soul of the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

That had put a smile to your lips. “Really?” You whispered, looking up at him for confirmation.

He returned that smile and nodded his head. “Really.” His lips met yours, sealing that statement forever in your heart.

Itachi supported you no matter what, regardless of what anyone may say or think of him as a cold-hearted ‘weapon’. Although, the mere thought of how he was treated always made your blood boil. Truly, the Uchiha clan had told you all you needed to know about their practices without being told directly. Whenever Itachi had brought you over to his parent’s home, Fugaku would always be sure to praise his son’s accomplishments a little too hard.

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it? That the next great shinobi of our generation is of the Uchiha clan.” Fugaku would boast, motioning to Itachi with a drink in his hand. “A genius. A perfect weapon.” He mused to which his wife, Mikoto nodded.

“It truly is. He makes the clan proud.” She would say in agreement, never seeming to make a statement of her own.

The pair would always make you tense, your hand balling into fists. But as soon as that would happen, a larger hand would lay over your own and put you at ease. Your hand relaxed and laced together with Itachi’s, allowing you to eat your dinner in peace while he fended off the attention to him as a ‘tool to be used’ into something more mundane.

And unfortunately, another dinner was planned. This one was by his parents inviting them over, not Itachi’s own goodwill to try and have a connection.

You had just lay Sasuke down for bed on the couch, the boy having fallen asleep while you read to him, when Itachi told you his parent’s wishes. “They what? You’re kidding.” You asked in disbelief, keeping your voice quiet as you lay a blanket over Sasuke’s small form. “What do they even want to talk about?”

“Something that is none of their business.” Came the short reply.

Confused, you made your way over to where he was leaning against the kitchen counter, a cup of tea in his hands with another beside it. Itachi handed you the other brewed cup to which you gave small sip before asking, “Which is…?” You pressed, wanting him to explain a bit further.

He ran his hand through his dark hair, the hair tie not in to hold it back. “When we are going to have a child.”

You stared at him blankly for a moment before clenching your jaw. “You’re right, that is none of their business.” You rolled your (E/C) eyes and leaned on the counter next to him. “And here I thought they may be coming around to me,” lifting the cup up to your lips, you added, “guess not,” and took a long sip.

Silence filled the air for a good while, the both of you sipping on your tea with the occasional snore from Sasuke being the only other sound. “Would you like a child?” Itachi asked, his hand reaching out to grasp your left one, gently rubbing the silver band on it with his thumb.

“I,” your eyes glanced down in the near empty cup of tea, “I don’t know. I like the idea of them. But…I’m not sure I would make a good mother.” A small snort came from Itachi and you looked at him with narrowed eyes, “What?” You asked in challenge, wondering exactly what he was going to say.

Setting his own cup down, he stepped in front of you and effortlessly lifted up your (B/T) form to sit on the counter and occupied the space between your legs. “I’m surprised is all.” He hummed, a hand reaching up to gently grasp your cheek, his pale thumb stroking your cheek bone. “I’m surprised you’re doubting the skills you clearly possess.”

Now it was your turn to snort, but a smile found its way to your face regardless—like it always seemed to when you’re with him. “I’m curious. Why don’t you tell me?”

“Well,” he glanced over his shoulder before motioning with his head at it, “the way you were interacting with Sasuke would be my best example.”

“That’s different, we are just watching him for the night.”

“It’s not different.” He immediately said, his hands now finding their way to your hips. “You’ve shown incredible patience. Allowing him to show you whatever he wanted to. An interesting stick he found? You marveled at it. The fireball he was able to summon? You cheered for him like no one else had.” He praised, his forehead now leaning forward to rest against your (S/C) one. “Reading to him and doing voices with it? You are a natural.” His lips came closer to yours. “Not to mention, how you treat the blonde boy. Whenever you see him, you speak with him, give him attention. You have a kind soul.”

By now, a dark flush was beginning to spread on your face. You would never not love the compliments he gave, but it always was embracing to have him say them so openly and as a matter of fact, not opinion. “You…you would make a great father.” You whispered back, now finding your lips just a breath apart; so close, that you could practically feel him smile.

“Thank you, (F/N). That means the world.” Your lips and bodies met that night, hoping that whatever the result would be, it would be a good one.

Playing with a lock of your (H/C) hair, you had been waiting patiently for the doors to the compound to open. But…they wouldn’t budge. Frowning, you glanced around and while it was night time, it was dead silent. “That’s odd.” You muttered, noting the air smelt weird too. Itachi had not been at the home you shared that was thankfully away from the compound, his mission supposed to have been over the day prior, and figured he might be at his family’s home to pick up Sasuke early as you were going to look after him again.

Ignoring the warning in your head to not pursue it and turn around, you leapt up to balance on the top of the gate only to nearly fall back in shock.

Bodies. Bloodied, fallen, bodies littering the ground. Given your relationship with the clan as a whole, the only thing you felt was shock and worry about the two Uchiha that mattered in your life: Itachi and Sasuke.

Quickly leaping down, you ran from door to door, body to body, quickly determining that none of them were Itachi nor Sasuke. And while you should have been relieved, you just weren’t.

Rounding another corner, you stopped midstep, finding the small figure you were hoping but dreading to see. “Sasuke!” You cried out, running and sliding down next to him, quickly checking over his body and determining the blood on him was not his own. He seemed to be merely passed out. Right as you were about to pick him up and take him to the hospital when a pained voice spoke behind you.

“Why are you here, (F/N)?” The voice, while so familiar, sounded to be deeply in pain.

Laying Sasuke’s upper body back down on the ground, you slowly stood up. “I got back early. I wanted to surprise you.” You whispered back, knowing full well who eliminated the Uchiha clan. “Surprise.”

“(F/N)….”

Taking a deep breath, you turned to find your blood-splattered husband with his Sharingan activated and tears flowing from his eyes. The both of you stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. “It’s ok.” You said after a moment, your hand reaching up to brush away some of his tears, effectively spreading the blood away as well. “It’s ok.” You whispered again.

“(F/N)…I…you can’t….” His voice was cracking as his body trembled, struggling to speak.

“I know.” A few tears began to fall from your face now. You had seen too much. You knew what had to happen. Tilting your head, you placed a soft kiss against Itachi’s lips which was quickly met with desperation, a need from him to never let it stop.

One of his hands found its way to your hair and holding it tightly, the other wrapped around your waist to pull you close to him, sword falling to the ground. “Take us back to our home?” You whispered against his lips before he gave a small nod, your body getting picked up and in what seemed like an instant, you were inside your bedroom.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, he loomed over you, hands grasping the bedsheets and his head leaning on your shoulder as it seemed even more tears were falling. “(F/N)….” He said again, this time seeming to choke out your name.

A sad smile graced your features, your head turning to place a kiss against his cheek while your left hand found a kunai in the pouch on his thigh. “It’s ok.” You said again, nudging it into his hand.

Itachi pulled back to look at you, his red eyes seeming to memorize every last inch of you, so he could always remember you—his beautiful wife.

“Oh.” You said suddenly, lifting your left hand up, smiling fondly at the silver ring there. With shaking fingers, you took it off and placed it on his pinky. Once it was securely on, you smiled back up at him. “There. See? I won’t be leaving you.”

Itachi gave a small laugh, “You always find a way, don’t you.” He whispered, letting you take his hand that held the kunai to raise it to your heart.

“Yes, I do.” You smiled back, your eyes staring up at him with nothing but love and acceptance.

His hand seemed to still a little with both of your hands wrapped around his on the kunai’s handle. “I love you, (F/N).” Itachi leaned in, his lips against yours.

Closing your eyes, you whispered against him, “I love you too, Itachi.” And with one last kiss and your hands jerking towards you, your world went entirely dark. All the while the body that sobbed above you mourned what could have been.

______________________________________________________

Having died for the second time was odd. But now, Itachi could eternally rest. He was able to see Sasuke accept the truth of that fateful night, knowing full well that he may never be forgiven. Or even son, get sent to the darkest parts of the afterlife. So, it was met with some confusion that all he saw was light.

“Itachi?”

The man’s body froze. A voice he hadn’t heard in person for years, and had only replayed conversations in his mind. Turning in disbelief, his breath got caught in his throat at seeing the most wonderful sight before him. “(F/N)?” The name came out barely audible, it was not a name he had said aloud in a long time.

You smiled brightly, walking over to him while making sure to keep the small bundle to your chest. “Hello, my love. I’m glad you’re finally with us.”

Itachi had been in awe of how serene you were in the white kimono that he had nearly missed the small object in your arms, but he did not miss the ‘us’ comment. “Us?” He whispered, a sense of guilt and dread beginning to fill his heart.

“Itachi Uchiha. I know what you’re thinking, and don’t you dare. I had no idea either.” Your hand opening the bundle a bit more, an infant with black hair and large dark eyes stared up at the man. “It’s ok.” You said again, letting the man embrace the two of you.

“Do…do they have a name?” He whispered into your hair, his heart trying to accept that he had unknowingly killed his own unborn child.

You shook your head, your free hand reaching out to adjust his arms. “No, not yet.” Placing the small bundle into his arms, you smiled up at him proudly. “I wanted to wait for his father.”

“A boy.” He smiled, unable to help the tears from falling in both joy and sorrow.

Nodding, you wrapped your arm around his waist and leaned against his shoulder, looking down at the life you had created and now meeting in the afterlife. “Yes. You’ve done so much, Itachi.” You hummed, laying your hand over his. “You’ve sacrificed so much. Now…it’s time for you.” Leaning up, you placed a kiss against his lips, a feeling he had missed so much. “It’s time for us.” A small sound of happiness came up from the baby in his arms. “He agrees. Now, what should we name him?”

Looking at you, then to his son, Itachi closed his eyes. “How about…(C/N)?”

Smiling, you nodded in agreement. “(C/N) it is.”

Swallowing hard, he raised (C/N) up and gave a light kiss to the boy’s forehead which earned a happy giggle from the boy before placing one on your own. “I love you, (F/N).”

Glad that you could finally be together forever, you beamed back up at him, “I love you too, Itachi. Now, come on. We have eternity together. We’re not going anywhere.” Taking his hand, the three of you walked off into that bright void, your souls at peace.

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allthatglittersisnotgoldrush · 3 years

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Author Interview: Victoryindeath2 (by Mythopoeia

Thank you @abadpoetwithdreams! I hope you don't regret the last question you asked :D

1. You are responsible for creating the characters of Frog and Sticks! What canon Silm event are you most excited to see from their child perspectives?

Soooo many things—but I am interested to see how they will feel when Mae is back on his feet, a warrior more deadly with his left than he even was with his right, the sort of man who can in canon create the Union of Maedhros. The children have seen Maedhros at his lowest, seen him tormented and crushed into the earth in the cruelest of ways. They also saw how he could be his best even when there was no hope or light for him—he protected them and was kind to them and loved them. I am just interested to see how other men’s and women’s opinions might change as Maedhros moves into the next phase of his life, and how the children will, in some ways, always see Maedhros as their Russandol.

Sticks: yeah I knew he was cool before you all realized it

Frog: *drops a rock in Mae’s left hand and curls up in his lap* tell me and my pet rock a story Mae

Mae: I actually have leadership things to do....

Sticks: you owe us for all the stories you didn’t tell us back in the Bad Place

Mae: *tells them a story and Fingon finds the kids sleeping under Mae’s arms twenty minutes later*

(There is also a non-canon event sometime in the future that I want so VERY badly but guess I can’t say because of spoilers *sighs*)

2. We often joke about how this AU is basically our own crazy version of a Silm tv series. What are some of favourite moments in the series so far that stand out to you as particularly cinematic?

There are so many moments, some of the wondrous and stunning variety, and some of the quiet and beautiful....but here are a few that leapt right to my mind:

a. Maedhros and Fingon parting the last time before Feanor divided the families almost forever! Maedhros with his hair in the sunlight on his horse and the line, “see you on the other side, cano!”

b. Gosh DARN it Mae on the cliff, with Morgoth offering him the chance to leap to his death, and he doesn’t take it *cries*

c. FINGON’S CHILD OF THE WOLF MOMENT WHERE HE TAKES MAIRON OUT (ALSO RIGHT BEFORE WHEN MAE GRABS AT HIS ANKLE AND TRIES TO GET FINGON TO SAVE HIMSELF)

d. Maedhros riding into the thrall camp and basically falling into Gwindor and SLINGING AN ARM AROUND HIS NECK YES HUGS ALL AROUND YESSSS

e. Look Ceili fic I know we talk about it all the time but I am here to talk about it again, especially the moment where Mae pulls Caranthir out on the dance floor and then they all dance together and everyone ends up in a pile on the floor except for Mae who just stands over them all laughing I think doubled over and there is so much good energy in that scene I NEED IT ON SCREEN

f. Personally I like to think that Celegorm stalking his way into a club in New York City and beating the living daylights out of Eol was cinematic

g. Maedhros having successfully argued Huan’s way into the journey west, stumbling all tired like up to the stairs, and meeting Nerdanel there, and resting his head on his mom’s neck. The darling tol bby

h. MAE ATTACKING ULFANG FOR THE SAKE OF HIS BROS, GOING FROM DEPRESSED BROKEN BABY WHO HAS LOST ALL HOPE TO DEPRESSED BROKEN BABY WHO HAS LOST ALL HOPE BUT STILL WILL FIGHT FOR HIS BROS

i. Bby Mae lying on Feanor’s chest ;;;;;;;;;;; before Feanor became the worst

j. Can’t even remember what fic it was at this point but there is a dream? Mae has? Of like....the sea and red sun or something? It was a lot

k. There are many many more moments and I am mad that I can’t remember the one that stood out to me recently

l. ..........the whole fic Seven Card Stud

m. MOONLIGHT GUNSLINGER MAE AND HOW HE TOTALLY OUTCLASSED MAIRON

n. Every hug and brotp and found family moment ever. I have addictions and there is never enough of what I want on screen

o. THERE ARE MORE SPECIFIC ONES BUT I HAVE TO STOP AT SOME POINT DON’T I

3. Walk me through what an ideal day would look like for Caranthir?

The MOST ideal day would be Caranthir waking up in his little closet bedroom in Formenos and realizing he just had a horrible nightmare, and also realizing that he still has his mom and ALL of his brothers. And then at the breakfast table Feanor says something like “wow I’ve been stupid in a good many ways, and a rotten dad because of that, good thing I have recognized my flaws and shall now be a better person, also Mae you can stop going to live in the city if you want, just stay here with your brothers. Also you know, Caranthir, even though you’re still my least favorite child, I’m proud of you. And not just because these are the best pancakes I have ever tasted.”

Then Caranthir probably helps his mom in the garden, gets some quality one on one time with Mae when Mae helps him make a pie, Mae reminds him how special and good he thinks Caranthir is, and Celegorm and Curufin ask Caranthir to join them for fishing. Not that Caranthir necessarily wants to do that, but he does want to be asked. Then Amras and Amrod ask him to help them with sums, so that he feels like a helpful big brother, and without being asked, Maglor takes out his fiddle and plays the slow-moving, peaceful song that Caranthir loves and Maglor despises because it is not challenging enough

4. What is a character POV you have not written yet about but would like to?

I would like to write something from Maeglin’s POV—I feel a powerful urge to protect that lost boy. He’s had an odd and often terrifying life and he needs a break. Good grief imagine having a mom like his mom, imagine Morgoth commanding you to call him uncle. Ew. Anyway, he’s exactly the sort of character I usually adopt as my son. An angsty sad boy without much future, who needs LOVE

5. If you could recommend only one fic from each author (including yourself, of course) what would they be?

HOW TO PICK?!

TolkienGirl: wayyyyy too many to really choose from but I have to go back to the beginning and say “news, breaking” because of the way it introduces my Feanorian boys, and also because of Mae wearing a flowered apron one minute and then a half open leather vest the next, with his glorious hair tied back!

Mythopoeia: I feel like I have to say “those gathered beneath” because it was so DEFINITIVE of our favorite Irish family, and also Turgon is a great narrator (but since I always talk about this fic I shall also add another, lesser known perhaps: “save ourselves unaided” because it introduces Haleth and more people need to appreciate Haleth and Mythopoeia’s Haleth is SO GOOD)

Victoryindeath2: “a certain slant of light (where the meanings are)” because it was my first Caranthir fic, and so it holds a special place in my heart

Bonus Q: The Feanorians are now a KPop group. What are their hair colors and roles?

THE WAY I CHOKED ON MY LAUGHTER WHEN I FIRST READ THIS QUESTION

I ALSO GOT WAY TOO CAUGHT UP IN THIS SO IF YOU ARE AN AU READER WHO DOESN’T CARE ABOUT KPOP IN ANY WAY YOU CAN STOP HERE, I WON’T BE MAD. On the other hand I think I have really good answers so maybe you should continue lol

Maedhros: He has to be a coppery red-head, doesn’t he? Maybe something of the red color that you once told me you wanted Heeseung to try. He would make a great leader, but ALSO. Also I think that he has had enough stress in canon in and in our AU, so I really just want to give him the opportunity to be merely the eldest hyung, who everyone goes to for comfort, for hugs and advice, and who supports the leader quietly. He is a good vocalist and can maybe rap in a pinch? but we put so much emphasis on him as a dancer that he HAS to be the dance leader. Obviously. Is widely acknowledged as the visual of the group

Maglor: Longish black hair, maybe midnight blue or deep purple. Has tried several different hairstyles and regretted half of them. He claims a specific aesthetic in hair and dress is necessary for him to compose the group’s songs, and while he gets teased by everyone for this he also writes amazing music so? It works? Is definitely a vocalist. His vlives consist of him playing every instrument known to man, and half the time Mae is sitting in the background listening with an awed expression on his face—till he falls asleep. Maglor can’t decide if he is pleased by this or insulted

Celegorm: Usually rocks blond or silver hair, but one time some fool insulted Amrod’s pink hair and the next thing you know Celegorm had pink hair for three months. Probably disparaged Maglor’s mullet phase but tried it once himself as a penalty for a game in a Run Feanorian episode and kinda thought it wasn’t half bad.

Celegorm is the “I don’t follow what the company says” member, “screw the rules if they aren’t good for my fam.” He is also a sick rapper and his diss tracks and mixtapes are things of beauty. He also clearly frequents the gym and will toss an annoyed member—most likely Maglor, but sometimes Curufin—over his shoulder any chance he can get. Has definitely done pushups with Amrod or Amras on his back. He and Mae swept the ISAC games

Caranthir: Typically goes with brown/black hair, which only throws the fandom into more of an uproar when the rare occasion arises in which he actually dyes it some other color. Probably went mint for a music video and Curufin started calling him mint choco boy, which offends him deeply as he is (sadly) on the side of “mint chocolate ice cream tastes like toothpaste.” He’s a vocalist with a rougher voice that is surprisingly pleasing to listen too.

Speaking of surprises, Caranthir never quite understands his own popularity. He didn’t like to do vlives by himself for ages, until Mae encouraged him to do cooking and baking vlives, and now he does one once a month on a schedule. Fans are putting together a book of his recipes

Curufin: He does intense and striking hairstyles and colors, and is probably the most likely to do black hair streaked through with red, teal, green, gold, white, etc. He claims to be the visual of the group and Mae is the one member who always agrees with him. I’d say he is also a dancer, one almost as good as Mae but with a different style, and he has a quick and sharp rap. He is heavily involved in the production of their songs over time.

Here is the thing though—I think, in this better non-canon non-Gold Rush AU universe, that Curufin could be the leader. See, Feanor is not gonna be the company CEO loll. Fingolfin is. And Fingolfin mentors better than Feanor EVER could. And Curufin is a sharp lad, very smart and crafty, and if he could just be convinced to care about all his brothers/group members like he does about himself and Celegorm in the AU, and if he just has proper guidance, allowing Mae to assist him in struggles, going to him for support, I think he would be an excellent leader

Ambarussa: Amras and Amrod have tried every color and color combination under the SUN, and they often coordinate with each other either to match or complement. Amras sometimes gets tired of this, preferring to stick to the general group color scheme, and when that happens Amrod just says fine be like that and goes off and does his own thing. Sooner or later though, Amras always gives in and joins him once again.

The twins obviously have all their hyungs wrapped around their little fingers, even Maglor who is driven insane by them crashing into his room shrieking and giggling when he is trying to write music or run a very serious vlive. As far as their musical talents go, I love when maknaes are ridiculously well-rounded, and these are Feanorian maknaes, so I’m gonna say they can both dance, sing, and rap. People have placed bets on whether they will grow as tall as Mae (spoilers, they won’t, no one ever will, he’s the tallest in Kpop world)

Huan: is the team mascot, and lives in their large dorm with them because Celegorm said so

Anddd that’s all folks

#author interviews #gold rush AU #the silmarillion #q&a #yes mythopoeia gave me a kpop question and I was on a roll with it shush don't judge me #even if you are tolkiengirl #victoryindeath2 answers questions

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fanficsforheartandsoul · 4 years

Text

The Dragonborn | M!Reader x Geralt of Rivia | Part II

Note: I split the oneshot because damn 12k does nobody want to read in one go xD

Fandoms: The Witcher (TV Series), The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim

Warnings: Non-Canon Story, Swearing, Gore, Slight OOC

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier meet a stranger in the woods while on the hunt for a special monster. They decide to team up but neither does Geralt realize that his prey is close to him nor does the stranger notice he's the one being hunted...

Word Count: 6938

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name!

Please note that The Witcher is supposed to be around the Middle-Age. Homophobia existed.

Part I

_______

A few hours later, after they had eaten the rabbit, they began to look for tracks of the monster. There were a lot of them. For example, the scorched moss where Geralt almost turned into roasted meat, the dark footprints in the dirt, and the fallen trees.

The witcher was impressed by how good the warrior from Keizaal could search for tracks.

“You see that, Jaskier? The way the claws dig in the ground? It means the claws of the dovah are really big. That’s pretty unusual for female dragons, so it’s obvious we’re dealing with a male. But we uh... know that because Odahviing is male.”

While Jaskier and Y/N genuinely searched for any signs he just stared at the foreigner. He somehow felt like he had found a kindred spirit in the man standing in front with his back facing him.

A weird association, but there were only a few things that could really impress Geralt.

Magic, Fighting Skills, and usually breasts.

Which made him sound like a skirt chaser, but that wasn't it. It just meant what it meant. Dicks definitely didn't attract hi-

"What the hell?"

He lifted his eyes from the lower body of Y/N, and his breath hitched when those e/c eyes pierced his. Did he see...?

"The footprints are gone!"

Oh. That.

"That does make sense... Or not? It's a dragon, after all? They can fly. Or not? Can they?"

Jaskier stepped in front of him and obstructed his view on the other. Geralt turned and touched his face. His cheeks were burning. What's gotten into him? He remembered something Yennefer had told him once as a half-joke.

I sometimes think that if I haven't met you, you would have chosen someone who fights like you, thinks like you, who lives like you. And from what I believe that someone would have been a man. Because it needs a brute to move a brute's heart.

While his head was filled with thousand thoughts, Y/N and the bard inspected the tracks closer.

"It can't be that he took off. Do you see how the footprints are as deep as the others? If he wanted to fly away, they would be deeper because he had needed to shift his weight."

"Is that something you learned while hunting for the other dragons with the Dragonborn?"

The man from Keizaal nodded. Some locks fell into his face, and his expression was thoughtful while he searched for a plausible explanation. Geralt could see every feature of his sharp e/c eyes.

They were different from Yennefer's violet ones, their spark was different, but for other people, they must be as enthralling as the eyes of the sorceress to him. That's at least what he believed. They had a particular pull. He didn't feel it, but it was there. Puzzling, but powerful.

A cough pulled him away from Y/N's eyes, and Jaskier stared at him with a grin.

"What?" he asked, his voice almost defensive.

"Nothing," responded his friend with a knowing undertone. What the hell was going on?

"Well, I can't think of anything that happened. Witcher, what about you?"

The mesmerizing eyes turned to him, and he blinked. What was the question?

Thankfully, I always have a good answer ready.

"Hmm."

He shifted and knelt to see the footprints up close. They had a certain distance to each other as if the dragon was walking slowly. Y/N was right; he couldn't have flown away, the marks were too shallow. Either he disappeared into thin air, or the monster had an amazing control when it came to his weight.

"Strange..." was all he said.

He focused on the sounds around them, but there was nothing extraordinary. Just the whistle of the wind, a few birds singing, and the steady heartbeats of the other two men. It was a dead end.

"Fuck."

He looked up, surprised that he and the warrior of Keizaal said the same thing at the same time. Y/N shot him a grin, and Geralt snorted.

"Maybe we should try to set up a trap"

He turned and watched Jaskier's expression. It was a good idea, and they didn't have any other options, besides he wasn't really in the mood to search the whole forest for the dragon. The h/c haired man agreed and pulled a bow out of his satchel. The bard's eyes once again widened.

"I want a bag like this too."

"If you don't want to carry your things anymore, you can give them to me. I'll store them."

Jaskier smiled brightly, and Y/N returned it. Something flared up in Geralt's chest, but he ignored it. Damn bruises make my chest hurt.

The bard gave the foreigner their things, and he put them in his satchel.

"Let's think about the trap," the warrior tested the string of his bow and then focused his eyes on Geralt and Jaskier.

"Dragons are usually very picky about their food, but I belie- know that Odahviing is fine with deer meat. We should hunt some."

And they did. With the help of Geralt's tracking skills and crossbow and the Y/N's bow, they easily got two does. Although it took a while to find them since most animals steered free of the area where the dragon rampaged.

Geralt and Jaskier only watched, while Y/N slashed the throats of the already dead animals.

"Dovahs have a keen sense of smell; we have to cover our own scent."

He continued to drench his hands with the blood and even smeared some on his neck and armor. When he couldn't hear the other two approaching, Y/N turned around and tilted his head questioningly.

"U-Uh, what did you say?" asked the bard and avoided his gaze.

“What? Did I say something wrong? Can you... Is it a sacrilege to use doe bloo-"

Geralt interrupted him.

"We couldn't understand what you said because you spoke in a different language."

Y/N widened his eyes, and an apologetic look crossed his face.

"I'm sorry...”

Jaskier’s slightly odd expression concerned him and he examined the witcher. Geralt was more intrigued than scared by the fact the atmosphere in the woods seemed to have changed as soon as the other spoke in his probably native language.

The fact that Y/N’s voice got a lot deeper while he spoke, caused a shiver to run down his spine. The foreigner apologized again and then added:

“I said the dragon could smell us. We should cover our scent with the blood."

Jaskier didn't seem to like the idea, but the witcher nodded and followed his advice.

Soon the bard's and his hands were stained with doe blood. Geralt was unaffected by it since he already got used to it by hunting monsters for years, but the other man looked a little pale.

The warrior watched their actions and then approached the white-haired man. His yellow eyes followed all of his movements.

"You should also put some on your throat... It’s a place where a lot of sweat gathers."

As soon as Y/N touched his collarbone and neck, Geralt stiffened. Actually, he froze. Something about another man touching his carotid artery was really intimate. His nose caught the smell of iron, moss, and smoke.

Someone who lives like you.

Yennefer's words replayed in his mind, and he couldn't stop himself from unconsciously moving his head closer to the other man.

The warrior was only a few centimeters smaller than him, his head reached up to his eyebrows. The hands on his throat were rough and slippery, but they touched him with such gentleness, Geralt had to shiver.

He gulped, and his adam's apple pressed against Y/N's palm. The afternoon sun danced on the other man’s scars, and eyelashes and Geralt wondered if every man had such long ones. He breathed in and closed his eyes.

Is this the essence of a kindred spirit?

Suddenly Y/N's hands disappeared from his throat, and he could no longer feel the warrior's presence so close to him.

“Put some on your cheeks too.”

A little disappointed, he opened his eyes and noticed that the other man had already turned and now approached Jaskier just to do the same thing to the bard that he did to him.

Y/N's bare hands touched his friend's throat, and neck and Geralt suddenly had a very, very dark thought.

Abruptly he turned around and covered his lower face with his hand.

Did I... About this man...?

He could feel how heat crept up his neck, and he questioned the emotionlessness that every witcher was supposed to have.

What the fuck was he thinking? He has Yennefer!

Or at least had. Their relationship was somewhat in the stars at the moment. After their rather big fight last time...

Geralt didn't know why that mattered though.

He buried the fluttery feeling that had sprouted in his chest when the other man had touched him.

What he didn't realize, Y/N's heartbeat was pounding faster after the physical contact they had just shared.

After they had covered their scent with deer blood, they also smeared some dirt on their armor and clothes, much to the dismay of Jaskier. Then they decided to set up their stakeout one hundred meters away from the carcasses.

It was close enough to quickly attack, but also far away enough for them to be safe in case the dragon wanted to grill them. They sat on the mossy ground and leaned on the trees surrounding them.

"Now, all we have to do is wait."

Patience was something every hunter was supposed to have, and both Geralt and Y/N obviously had it. The bard, on the other hand...

The witcher's left eyebrow twitched in annoyance. After his friend had whistled, he began to eye the two men. Jaskier's stare felt like a cockroach was crawling over his body. He had a bad premonition about the weird behavior of the brown-haired man. He glared at him, but he just grinned.

Stop staring!

Geralt turned his head away and noticed how the warrior from Keizaal seemed to concentrate on something around his neck. He clenched and unclenched his fist with an absent expression.

He watched for a while and then realized that Y/N was holding a ring that he wore on a necklace.

A sinking feeling appeared in his gut, and he suddenly felt like a mountain weighed his shoulders down.

"You have a wife?"

His mouth was faster than his thoughts.

The man startled and then shared eye contact with him.

"Something like that..."

Geralt frowned a little. What kind of answer was that? He stared at Y/N with a hard look, but the other added nothing else, just sighed and hid the ring under his heavy armor.

The witcher only grunted and turned to face the direction of their trap.

Shit, why was he so annoyed?

The idea of the warrior having a doting wife waiting for him in Keizaal made his heart clench, and his chest felt tight.

This time he couldn't blame the bruises on his rips.

He finally acknowledged that the h/c haired man intrigued him and caused some rather odd feelings to rise.

But this... Why... Why the fuck was he feeling jealous?

And it wasn't even that the man had a wife, no; he was jealous because some woman had Y/N.

That dragon must have indeed killed some of his brain cells.

His yellow eyes traveled back to the other man's figure. His broad shoulders were hidden under his armor, but Geralt had seen them.

Just after he had woken up, he had seen the man in regular clothes. Although he had worn a shirt, the witcher had been able to see how muscular Y/N was.

His body seemed to be covered with scars. Tiny cuts on his hands, big slashes on his collarbone, and even some nasty ones close to his throat. Geralt was sure there were many more, but he wasn't able to see them. They were proof of fierce fights and the experiences the man had had to go through.

Was it weird that they attracted him?

Like the hands in his dreams that had traveled over his, the Butcher of Blaviken wanted to trace Y/N's scars with his fingers. He wanted to feel how his body had healed him, wanted to know the story of every scratch and bruise, wanted to touch the energetic muscles bursting with strength.

A flame of desire began to burn in his body, and he lowered his head to hide the dark expression he wore on his face.

These thoughts needed to stop; they would only become problematic in the future.

Geralt scratched his neck and then examined the brown-red flakes under his fingernails.

He felt a stare on his body again, and he sighed.

God damn Jaskier...

When he lifted his head, he was surprised to see that it wasn't the bard who looked at him but the warrior from Keizaal. Y/N's e/c eyes were unfathomable, but he showed a somber expression. He paused for a second, and the world seemed to turn slower.

The witcher could see every blemish on the other man's skin, every mole, every freckle. Geralt breathed in slowly, and the warrior's hair swayed in the wind.

He's so handso... The wind?

Geralt abruptly stood up.

"The-the wind turned!" he muttered and gulped. His cheeks felt hot, and he bit his lip. Jaskier frowned.

"Doesn't this mean that our smell would be...?"

Y/N sighed and nodded.

"Is a lake close by?"

The bard shook his head.

"But, we're only a few miles away from the sea."

The witcher watched the other man closely while he questioned the other's exhausted expression.

"The wind has turned due to the late afternoon. We should move."

Geralt and Jaskier only watched when the other stood up and grabbed his bow.

"Why not wait until the wind turns again?" asked the bard, and he followed after the h/c haired man.

"That won't be the case until tomorrow. The sea has saved the warmth from the sun while the land cooled down. We have to wait until the land is warmer again."

Jaskier eyed Y/N carefully. Geralt could already guess what he was thinking. He understood what the warrior from Keizaal meant. He learned about it when he was training to become a witcher.

"So, what are we going to do now?"

They both contemplated for a while and then Geralt spoke:

"Maybe we should indeed wait for tomorrow. I think it would be best if you tell us some more things about your dragon before we storm into this unprepared."

He tried to suppress a triumphant smile when the other two agreed. Of course, he wouldn't admit that he actually just wanted to spend some more time with Y/N.

He had a thought that they wouldn't meet again after this whole thing was over.

"Then what do we do about the deer corpses?" asked Jaskier, and it was a reasonable question. If they left them, they could attract other animals...

Both the witcher and the warrior looked at each other and then huffed. The bard just stared between them, and his face gradually darkened.

"You're not... thinking about eating them are-are you?"

Two hours later, they had put up a camp close to a clear pond and already roasted some rabbit meat.

They had buried the does, and although the physical labor was annoying, Jaskier was relieved that the two brutes didn't decide to eat them. The dead animals had been lying in the sun for a long time after all.

Y/N was peeling his armor off and thinking about the situation he was in right now.

The fact that they were on the hunt for a dragon excited him. Not the actual part of the chase but the fact that he would meet another specimen of his current best friends.

After he had killed Alduin, he had lost himself in a killing spree. Paarthurnax had warned him to get a hold of himself, but he wasn’t able to. His dragon soul caused him to lose all rational thoughts.

When he finally realized that he could learn so much more about Akatosh and the dovahs, he had already committed mass slaughter, and Odahviing and the wise dragon from The Throat of the World were the last ones of their species.

Or that's at least what the three of them had thought. But they were wrong, and now he had the chance to meet another dragon! And probably also the chance to go home. If he wanted to.

But first, they had to get a hold of him.

"Jaskier?"

He faced the bard who currently played on his lute while also watching the fire. He hummed in response and looked up.

"We should wash off the blood in the pond. Do you want to go first?"

The man seemingly wanted to say yes but then shook his head and responded with a slight grin:

"No, you can go first. I'll watch the rabbit."

Y/N furrowed his brows but then smiled and thanked him. He left the pile of his armor and Jaskier behind and wandered to the pond, which was located behind some trees and big boulders.

The view from the camp was obscured, which meant he had some privacy. Not that he cared much, but he would rather not show his back to the two other men. Since it showed one more change he had gone through in the last year.

Although Geralt wasn't currently in the camp anyway, he left to get some more branches for the fire.

The man carefully opened his shirt and took it off. His boots, pants, and underwear soon followed suit, and he stepped to the shore where some reed grew.

The water was cold when he stepped in, but he endured it. His muscles just tensed a little.

Y/N walked in further until the water reached his abdomen. He wasn’t even halfway in the pond, it was fairly big.

He sucked in some air when he lowered himself into the water until it reached his chin. He had to rub his skin a little, but then the water around him turned slightly red.

The man watched how the deer blood twirled, and he stared at his reflection. The red blood on his cheeks conjured a cursed memory in his head, and he heaved.

Hii los dur, Dovahkiin. Hi aal krii zu'u nu nuz zu'u ahrk pah dii Zeymah fen koraav hi mah wah hin daan. You are cursed, Dragonborn. You may kill me now, but all my brethren and I will see how you fall to your doom.

The ominous words of the last dovah he had killed echoed in his mind. He hugged himself, and his fingers touched his shoulder blades.

The skin was still shedding. Y/N sighed. What was going on with his body? The shedding had started a few months ago but he had no idea why.

And since it only started after he had arrived here he couldn’t ask Odahviing or Paarthurnax.

He breathed out slowly and then dived underwater.

The coldness cleared his head a little, and he relaxed slightly. His feet left the muddy ground, and for a moment, he floated.

If I could just stay like this...

His hand clenched to a fist, and he released some Magicka. The small pressure on his nose disappeared, and he automatically breathed in.

Air filled his lungs, and the Dragonborn smiled. Peace washed over him, and he spread his arms.

He slowly floated to the surface, and his face broke through it. Water droplets pearled from his cheeks and eyelashes, and he stared into the sky. The tree crowns whistled, and he watched how some clouds traveled across the darkening sky. The sun was already setting.

This was the ending of the first day together with the bard and the witcher. Geralt's face came to his mind, and he bit his lip.

The white-haired man reminded him of Farkas, but he was also completely different. His attitude for example. Farkas was openly benevolent and also voiced his concerns. The witcher seemed to be reluctant. Although Y/N was able to feel that he cared deeply for his friend.

They shared the same keen instincts, but Geralt's came from the harsh trials witchers had to go through while his love had them because he had been a werewolf.

I can't believe that you chose Farkas over Vilkas. Do you like strength more than brains?

Aela's voice sounded in his head, and Y/N huffed.

The huntress had probably been right. He was attracted to the Butcher of Blaviken. These yellow eyes... They had something animalistic and penetrating that stirred an urge deep inside of him.

He sighed and put his hands on his face. Then he scrubbed and splashed his face with water.

Suddenly, he caught sight of a person standing behind a tree at the other side of the pond after he had wiped droplets from his eyes and opened them again.

Y/N breath stopped, and a wail got caught in his throat. He abruptly stood up again, although it felt like he had still no ground under his feet. What...?

Light blue eyes framed by black war paint stared at him with a resentful look.

"Fa-Far..."

His voice failed, but he agitatedly began to move across the pond, trying to reach his lost lover and husband.

Breath erratic and tears were pricking in the corners of his eyes, but at that moment, he only felt happiness and relief. Farkas was alive!

"D-Dii Shul!" My Sunshine!

The ground suddenly declined, he lost his footing and dived involuntarily underwater.

Nevertheless, he was still able to hear the words that had left the lips he had kissed so often.

"So, you've abandoned me."

An ice-cold feeling washed over him, and his heart broke.

No, that's not true! I would never! You were gone! You left me! You died!

A disturbing scream erupted from his throat, and the skin around his mouth tore. The scream turned into a roar, and he clawed at his face. The e/c eyes shook, and the black pupils turned to slits.

Shreds of flesh got caught by growing claws, and gigantic fangs emerged from the man's jaws.

H/C hair parted, shrunk, and gave way for two enormous horns. His whole body shook, and his limbs twisted and cracked. His spine grew longer, broke through his lower back, and two bony wings arose from his back.

The murky water of the pond turned red and swirled around the tremoring creature who rapidly grew until it was able to stand on the pond bed. Flesh turned hard and into black scales. New tissue engulfed its wings and tail and also got covered by rockhard scales.

Burning heat crawled up its throat, and furious flames burst from its maw. It broke through the pond's surface, and the splashed water evaporated immediately.

The dragon spread its wings, and they created waterfalls when they left the water. The wingspan was as big as half of the pond, and when it pulled them closer to its body ready for takeoff, the leaves and needles of the surrounding trees shook.

A thunderous boom announced the beast's presence, and it tensed its huge muscles.

When it thrust off the pond bed, the water turned into waves and flooded over the shore and soaked shoes and clothes. Branches broke like grass when the dragon's wings grazed them, and trees lost all their leaves from the harsh wind which got created.

A scent caught the dragon’s attention and it whipped its head around. A triumphant roar shook the earth when it dashed towards the direction the smell came from.

The beast ignored the scared brown-haired human that stared at it from a small campsite.

Geralt was grabbing some more branches when he saw some Celandine, and he swiftly decided to take them with him. They were always helpful, after all.

Putting the branches on the ground, he knelt and carefully tore the flowers and the not yet bloomed buds from their stems.

While he stored them, his thoughts trailed off to the mysterious man who accompanied him and Jaskier.

Y/N had sparked something inside of him, and now he was questioning his heart, which confused him even more since the person he found interesting was a man.

On the other hand, he couldn't quite tell if the feeling in his chest was something along the lines of romantic attraction or just common interest.

Deep down in Geralt's heart, he knew that him eyeing the other man's ass was definitely not something one would call a platonic interest, but he just couldn't admit that he, who never thought about other men like that, suddenly liked one.

He didn't feel disgusted, but the thought alarmed him.

He had seen a lot of things during his time as a witcher, and relationships between two men were never something that ended well. Various churches took care of that.

An image in his head made his fists clench unconsciously.

And there was still Yennefer. They never openly ended their relationship so... Was he still involved with her? He couldn't tell.

The Butcher of Blaviken sighed and then noticed a pebble in the moss. It had white streaks over its grey shape, and they reminded him of the scars in the foreigner's face.

Was he seriously associating weird things to Y/N now?

Maybe the other cursed him.

While he pondered some more about the other man, it took a while for him to notice that the forest had turned unnaturally silent.

Birds stopped singing as if they held their breaths in fear, and suddenly a roar disrupted the silence. It came from far away, but Geralt was able to hear it loud and clear because of his mutated hearing.

He abruptly stood up and turned towards the direction. It came from the camp, and Geralt's heart sank.

Please no.

He disregarded the branches he had meticulously collected and started to rush back the way he came from. Thankfully he had taken his swords with him, and he unsheathed the silver one.

The image of the bard and the foreigner being killed carried his feet forward and pushed him to almost inhumane speed.

He wasn't even halfway back when a shadow cast on the moss stopped him in his tracks. A gigantic black dragon soared through the sky, and his wings caused the surrounding trees to shake. Geralt could feel the wind pressure, and the aura that the beast released caused a shiver to run down his spine.

The witcher grinned darkly. That bastard had an impressive bloodthirst. Geralt's hunter instincts wanted to fight that monster, but his heart worried for his best friend and his potential love interest.

He cursed himself for not taking his small bag with the various vials with potions and bombs, but he had no time to get annoyed because the dragon suddenly dived down, and he had to roll out of the way or else he would have been crushed.

When he stood up again and turned, he came face to face with the beast's massive head, and his heart skipped a beat.

Y/N fought against such big monsters? Repeatedly?

His respect for the other man increased significantly.

Geralt couldn't avoid his legs to tense, but the dragon didn't attack. Instead, its e/c eyes examined him, and the witcher wondered if the monster's pupils acted like a human's because they widened considerably.

This is a dovah...

The beast was at least as big as a typical villager house, and Geralt was sure that the spikes on its body would cause massive damage to any attacker. The black scales seemed impenetrable, and the monster slayer seriously questioned his chances of survival.

He had already felt it before when he had run from the dragon. It wasn't an enemy who he could overpower. If he had to fight, it would be either an overpriced victory or death. But escaping wasn't an option anymore, the dragon's tail had trapped him before the beast.

His grip around his sword tightened, and he was ready to use Quen on himself when the beast shifted and held its head up high. A growl escaped from its throat, and Geralt tensed even more. Unexpectedly, the dragon spoke:

"Dii rii lovaas fah hi. Wo los hi? Hi los ni rok."

The witcher obviously didn't understand, but the voice of the dragon shook him to the core. It was as if someone was screaming in his ear, and he had to press his hands on them. For that, he carelessly let go of his sword, but he felt like his eardrums would explode at any time.

His chest tingled, and the echo of the dragon's word resounded through his whole body. Geralt's legs gave out, and he fell to his knees.

The beast lowered its head until its throat almost touched the ground, and then it snorted.

Hot air blew his hair back, and the Butcher of Blaviken came to his senses again. He needed to get his sword back! Right when he stretched out his hand to take his silver sword, the dragon crept forward until its snout was dangerously close.

Geralt froze. If the monster decided to eat him now, he would have no time to react. This was the end.

The realization hit him, and regret washed over him like a seastorm. There were many things in his life that he hadn't resolved yet—many things he wanted to achieve and also many things he wanted to try.

E/c eyes showed up in his mind, and his heart burned. If the dragon ate him now, would they meet in death?

His eyes flickered to the dragon, and that's when he realized something.

Although he had no time to elaborate the thought because the dragon moved its head forward until there was merely the distance of a hand between him and the beast.

He breathed out slowly, and his witcher heart beat faster. He wanted to face his enemy to the last second, but after so many fights, he thought that closing his eyes and embracing death that way seemed more peaceful and freeing. So he closed them and took one last breath.

I'm sorry, Ciri.

Seconds passed, where he only heard his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Until wind brushed his hair in his face, and he heard a sniff. A rumble shook the earth, and he slowly opened his eyes again.

The dragon breathed in and sniffed, its eyes closed, and Geralt couldn't believe it when the beast closed the distance, and the scaly snout touched his chest. Black shiny scales only a few centimeters from his face.

He searched the dragon's eyes, but they were closed. The rumble sounded again, and if he didn't know any better, the witcher would have guessed that the monster was humming.

When it opened its eyes again, and yellow and e/c met, Geralt had an unbelievable thought, and he whispered:

"Y-Y/N?"

The look in the dragon's eyes changed, and it pulled its head back abruptly.

A growl erupted from the beast's throat, and it only took a matter of seconds for it to tense its muscles and take off the ground.

Geralt was left in a daze, panic, and realization the only thing he believed to have seen in the dragon's expression.

Leaves fluttered to the ground, and the deep claw marks in the dirt before him were the only proof for the monster's presence.

What... What just happened?

The dragon had touched him. He slowly lifted his hand and put it on his chest. It's warm. The dovah had an unexpectedly high body temperature.

Why did it...? Y/N... Was it really him? H-How...

He remembered something the foreigner had told them.

His dragon soul was too much for his human body, and he slowly turned into a dovah.

"The dovahkiin..."

Geralt lifted himself off the ground and took off running to the direction the dragon left for.

The dragon didn't make it far.

Geralt saw him soaring through the sky and circling above a clearing in the forest. The witcher could see a small hut standing at the clearing border, and he remembered another thing that Y/N had told him and Jaskier.

I've been staying here in the forest for a few weeks in a hut half a mile from here.

Geralt slowly realized that his intuition was probably correct.

When he arrived at the clearing, the black dragon had already landed.

Although it was more like a crash. Long furrows plowed the forest ground. But the Butcher of Blaviken couldn't see the dragon lying there because a strange fog obstructed his view. He was hesitant about approaching the steam, but he really wanted to know if his theory was correct. A voice interrupted his twisting thoughts:

"Bormah, Bormah... Aak dovah!"

It was deep and raspy, and he didn't understand what it said, but Geralt could recognize it instantly. It was him.

Y/N was the dragon.

His whole body hurt.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?"

Blue eyes watched him with a worried expression. He didn't reply. What was there to say? The dovah needed to die. He was the only one capable of killing them.

Why couldn't he understand?

"Think about it, Y/N. You're one of them, so you shouldn-"

"Don't you dare compare me to them! I AM THE DRAGONBORN! Dii Zahkrii kriin Dovah ni aak niin!"

He knew he went too far as soon as he saw the other's expression.

Farkas stared at him with slightly widened eyes.

"Control yourself, Dovahkiin. Or else disaster will fall upon you and the ones you love."

Arngeir stepped forward and put a shoulder on his lover's shoulder. He could feel how his pupils flickered. Anger welled in his stomach.

"Don't touch him..."

His voice was low and threatening. Farkas scoffed, but his face only showed hurt.

"Don't worry about me, Dragonborn."

The distance in his words was like a thorn in his heart. The idea that Farkas couldn't understand his thoughts tore his heart in two. Y/N only watched when his significant other walked out of the room, Arngeir following him.

"Wa-Wait, Farkas, no!"

He reached out his hand to stop him, but the other man was already so far away.

"Akatosh, Akatosh, help me!"

Tears welled up in his eyes, and a wail escaped his lips.

Arngeir was right. Disaster fell upon him.

The skin shedding on his back, his pupils turning to slits, the increased usage of Dovahzul, all were signs for his slow transformation.

He couldn't believe that the stories Odahviing had told him jokingly were real. His dragon soul was changing his body and personality.

And now it had happened. He turned into a dragon.

How many times had he already done that? The witcher mentioned that the monster they were hunting tormented the villagers.

What had he done?!

The pain he felt after transforming was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. Y/N became the monster he had thought he was slaying when he had eradicated all the dragons from Skyrim.

The scars he had received from all the dovah burned, and shame clung to his heart.

Why didn't he listen to Arngeir?

The greybeard was wise and only wanted his best after the dragonborn distanced himself from the Blades. His loved one died because he didn't listen!

And now he... He turned into an inhumane beast.

Suddenly he remembered the bard. Did he attack him?! A sinking feeling struck his gut.

Please, no, no, NO!

What about Geralt?

Oh Talos... I have to return to the camp!

He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were heavy. He groaned.

What if the two others were bleeding out while he laid here? If the witcher died... Y/N was sure he could never forgive himself.

Farkas's death was something that he could slowly overcome, although it took him years, and he still hadn't let him go but... If the witcher's death joined, he was sure his shoulders would give in under all the regret.

Just imagining how these beautiful yellow eyes lost their light, he couldn't take it.

He didn't realize it immediately, but his heart was already in the hands of Geralt. He had already lost.

Y/N finally regained some strength, and he used it to open his eyes. His vision was blurry, but he could see that the sky had already turned dark blue.

He knew what lurked in the forest at night.

The thought reminded him again of the witcher. What an irony that it took the white-haired man less than a day to sweep him off his feet. It was the complete opposite with Farkas. Maybe they weren't that similar at all.

He turned on his side and soon realized that his back felt different. The cold wind gave his arms goosebumps, but his back felt perfectly warm. He lifted his arm and cricked it to reach his shoulderblade. When his fingers grazed his back, he sucked in some air.

That definitely wasn't flesh. That smooth texture... Y/N would recognize it everywhere. He had felt it so many times after all.

His back was full of scales.

Panic and adrenaline gave him strength, and he sat up, ignoring the pain that bolted through his torso. Only now did he realize that he was completely naked.

That shocked him less than the fact that only a few meters away stood the Butcher of Blaviken with wide eyes, his sword in his hand ready to attack.

"Y-You..." Geralt didn’t continue.

Y/N opened his mouth but didn't say anything as soon as he saw how the other man flinched.

His heart pounded loud in his ears, and he felt light-headed. He breathed in, it sounded strained.

A smile crept on his lips, and he grinned exhausted.

"Thank Talos, you're alive..."

The witcher didn't know what to respond.

He was frozen although he couldn't tell if it was because the person before him was a fire-spitting dragon or because the man was butt naked. Something that usually wouldn't impress him but after realizing that Y/N attracted him... He was conflicted.

"You... you turned into a dragon," he finally said with a neutral tone.

The man sitting in the crater nodded slowly. He looked as lost as Geralt felt.

Did he not know?

"Are you... Are you the dovahkiin?"

Y/N nodded again, and he lowered his head.

The witcher could see the shame on his face. After receiving this information, he didn't know what to do with it. It should probably agitate him, all the villagers that had their cattle stolen and all the lost prey on hunts, but Geralt felt nothing. The shock was perhaps too deep.

One is a sorceress, one a dragon. It seems like I fall in love with extraordinary people. Wait...

His eyes found the e/c ones. Did he really...? Y/n watched him with a conflicted expression.

"Do you want to kill me?"

The question surprised him; he hadn't thought about it. But he opposed it.

"Should I?"

His voice had a challenging undertone, but it sounded light, and his heart fluttered a little when the other man smiled weakly.

Geralt lowered his sword. Y/N didn't feel like a threat; in fact, he looked defeated.

The h/c haired man leaned back and exposed his torso. The witcher was right. Even his chest was full of scars, and most of them looked like claw marks.

A strong warrior.

"I caused you a lot of trouble. If I have to pay for it, I'll gladly do it with my life. It's not worth much anymore."

These words caused him to frown. The man sounded like he had already given up. Where was his will to fight?

The imposing aura Geralt had felt when he stood tall as a dragon was gone without a trace. This man was broken. He couldn't imagine what Y/N had gone through, but he wouldn't let a warrior like him die a fool's death.

"It's true. You caused me a lot of trouble..."

The Dragonborn watched him with an apologetic expression. Geralt eyed him from head to toe, his stare burning.

"But instead of paying with your life, why not pay me with something else?"

Y/N blinked and stared blankly, then he blushed furiously. The witcher’s heart skipped a beat.

Did Y/N also...?

It excited Geralt that he apparently knew what he was hinting at and reacted this strongly. It meant he had a chance. Then he remembered the ring. Geralt examined the naked man and realized the necklace was gone.

"Your ring..."

Y/N touched his throat. Nothing was there. Geralt expected his face to turn panicked, but only a melancholic expression showed up.

"It's fine. It's time to move on."

The witcher didn't pry further, but he knew he didn't have to. The smile on Y/N's lips said enough.

"So, how am I supposed to repay you?"

The man lifted an eyebrow and grinned. He gulped, he didn't expect the man to be this willing. Suddenly he felt bad about his desires.

"Toss me a coin."

The warrior from Keizaal tilted his head and puckered his lips. Then he smiled, and his e/c eyes turned into crescents. They looked happy. But most importantly, human.

Warmth spread in his chest.

He had a thought that his future would be a lot more interesting with the dovahkiin by his side and Jaskier.

Wait...

Both of them opened their mouth and shouted:

“Jaskier!”

_______

Endnote: Congrats! You made it! Like I said at the beginning, this fic is based on a headcanon of mine. Where the dragonborn slowly turns into a dragon because of his dragon soul. The dovahkiin is able to live a lot longer than any other human due to his dragon nature and it’s taking a toll on him. The scales are something I had imagined from the start. This is a drawing of my dragonborn which I used as inspiration for this fic:

I wanted the story to end in a rather light tone which some might not find appropriate but I honestly got a little exhausted. I wrote this as a oneshot of 12k words, which was definitely too much xD Writing so much is new to me. But I’m proud that I made it this far :)

I wanted Yennefer to play a part here but more like the one of a former lover. She was also a tool to give Geralt a reason why he likes Y/N since he’s officially straight in canon.

I already decided to create a fic where Geralt gets taken to Skyrim but I haven’t decided if it’s going to be a sequel to this yet. We’ll see I guess.

Some sentences that were spoken in Dovahzul were purposely not translated because it was either from Geralt’s sight or it was to show that the dragonborn was slowly changing. But they meant the following:

Dii rii lovaas fah hi. Wo los hi? Hi los ni rok = My soul sings for you. Who are you? You are not him (as in Farkas).

Dii Zahkrii kriin Dovah ni aak niin = My Sword slays dragons not help them

Thank you for reading and being patient with me :D

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transsexualhamlet · 4 years

Text

*slams fists on table* CATASTROPHE ANIME

yeah this is just my long ranting hypothetical post about “omg what if there was an anime for catastrophe at 16″ because I’m like that @autpunk-godling feel free to add on because we just yell about this for hours on end

I have also now brought it up in the discord server just bc i wanna yell about it

This is the recording of all the shit we came up with screaming about it

-it could only possible like after the manga is finished and translated officially plus resurrection novels probably finished or close to but like,,, we can hope, we can dream, please-

-people coming to it and seeing the trailers and shit would probably see the school and the cherry blossoms and go “oh it’s ouran high school host club but like with swords” and then everyone fucking dies and the fans are like I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS???

-everyone new would know the spoilers for the end by like episode 2 bc manga fans wouldn’t be able to shut up cause someone would just like post a screencap of guren saying “i’m gonna save the world” with a pensive emoji under it some anime only would see it and by the end of the day everyone knows how it ends

-gureshin exposure and seeing it on screen like just imagine how fucking gay it’ll look like I swear this would become the new mikayuu like imagine,,, the beginning when he’s leaning over guren’s desk, the love hotel scene, love hotel 2 electric boogaloo, when they fight over who gets to top omg “become my subordinate” “no u” and every time shinya LOOKS at guren, the part where he comes back to guren’s house and goes “uwu you were looking at my phone”, the motorcycle scene, the *thinks about shinya while taking a bath* the entire part where guren goes demon and shinya saves him and holds him and i,,, and well the entire end

-guren’s va in the last episode would be DEAD lemme tell you the SCREAMING I WANT TO HEAR IT

-Hypothetically this would probably cover 2 seasons, the first season covering books 1-3 and 2nd season covering 4-7, and then like. No one’s gonna want to end it at *guren sticks sword in slot* so like uh resurrection’s gonna need to be a thing unless it gets cancelled which uh fuck i hope not

-more appreciation for characters, THERE WOULD BE PEOPLE ACTUALLY PAYING ATTENTION TO MITO, GOSHI, SHIGURE, AND SAYURI, guren antis would actually just shut up because they’d see him being a fucking softie, and uh well kureto stans would have something to answer for

-the MEME possibility just THINK of the MEMES

-i want to see the trailers,,, i want to see them,,, i want to-

-the levels of horniness compared to vampire reign omg like they’re the same age as yu squad and they like all wanna fuck like how will that translate to anime like

-the. the last episode i. omg it would be so intense I can’t it would be so epic there would be so much blood oh god

-this would cause more exposure for the manga too because 1. the old anime-onlys would come back, 2. everyone already in the manga fandom will be revived for any kind of content, 3. the fans who’ve dropped off will probably watch it, 4. new fans who liked WIT studio shit will be like :eyes emoji:, fans who looked at the trailer and went that sounds kinda gay will watch it, actual shonen fans and people who like high school anime and liked the vampire reign school arc would watch it, like it would have a pretty good base

-like bro there would be actual diversity in ships kjhghjkj like people would actually pay attention to the characters omg please i just want some content like yes of course gureshin but like also the other characters please CATASTROPHE CONTENT OMG I NEED IT C A T A S T R O P H E C O N T E N T

-you know how the dub for the vampire reign anime is like 80 percent gayer than the sub with the “girlfriend or boyf-” “or a lover” etc uh how can they possibly make some of the shit in ca16 gayer but they WOULD like uh some of the stuff shinya already says in canon is like so fucking gay like the “you’ll never get a husband if you don’t let me clean your wound haha”, the misunderstanding in the love hotel, the “uwu people will think we’re a couple” on the motorcycle, all of that, there’s more, literally every time someone makes a joke about being in love with guren fucking-

-it would actually be good bc new anime tends to be Shit so yeah people would watch it I swear I think it would get even better ratings than vampire reign because it has a comprehensible plot and the ending and shit is already decided, I think different people would like it

-ok but like the problem is there’s a different beginning in the manga and the light novels of ca16. And like, the manga’s beginning would be a really bad thing to go with. In the light novel, the book starts right off with Guren going into first shibuya high school with sayuri and shigure, explaining the situation with the ichinoses and the hiragis. That’s a good beginning, it gives a good idea of what the story’s gonna be like, it doesn’t give away what’s going to happen. Whereas in the manga, they decided to shoot in before that a bullshit chapter that’s straight out of fucking tokyo babylon. I don’t even,,, it was really bad, and it doesn’t even seem to be canon. There’s no indication that’s anything but like crossover fanfic because the gist of that chapter was Guren, Sayuri, and Shigure like,,, exorcising a bitch which is like so not the vibe of this story. It makes no sense?? That’s not even what Guren did in middle school? What???? There’s also a bunch of really offputting shit in there, if you’ve ever seen it. That’s gonna get rid of so many potential fans. It’s a really bad idea. Also at the end it literally gives away the fact that Guren’s gonna end the world which is just. shit. it’s shit. Like everyone’s gonna know anyway just don’t give it away in canon!!! It was a bad idea in the manga and it would be a terrible decision to do in a potential anime.

-what would it even be rated omg like it’s. So much hornier than vampire reign so like I don’t even fucking know like, there is sex,,, with fucking m a h i r u, i don’t like that, and i mean other than that every other word out of someone’s mouth is wanna fuck like that’s fine in a light novel but on screen uh

-!!!!!! THE OP AND ED !!!!!!!!! the SHIT that would be FORESHADOWED in the ENDING i sWEAR TO GOD I JUST WANT TO S E E I T like even if they just reused scapegoat and xu it would still be fucking amazing LIKE OK. KAGAMI FORESHADOWED CHAPTER 94 WITH THE ORIGINAL ED WHAT THE F U C K KIND OF FORESHADOWING WOULD GO ON WITH CA16

I just really really really want another song to vibe to ok and I want to see the images i want to see them fighting I want to see them in front of cherry blossoms uuuuuuuuuuu please like I want to see Mahiru like posing with two swords or some shit please omg please mahiru don’t turn into a demon you’re so sexy ahaha

like broooo I really just want to see it like anime ops are just so amazing and epic and the eds are all kinda sad and foreshadowy and UH FOR CATASTROPHE THAT’S LIKE A L O T LIKE THE IMAGES THAT PEOPLE WHO KNOW WHAT THEY ARE ARE JUST GONNA SEE AND GO “F U C K” like just imagine the ed having like. like guren’s sword in a slot in a white room or like a flash forward to the world after it’s ended

-we can see on screen, colored: NOYA, SAITO, (ferid with green hair???), I want to see all of them omg also maybe they can decide for sure what aoi’s eye color is

-THE ELEVATOR FIGHT WITH GUREN AND SAITO GHHHGHGHGHGH I JUST WANNA S E E IT

-we get to see them actually fight with magic and not like jumping off of buildings abilities and shit

-Guren going demon omg omg omg

-BABY YU BABY YU BABY YU BABY MIKA BABY MIKA BABY SHINOA BABY SHINOA

-I think the anime wouldn’t want to have it end with Guren sticking the sword in the slot so I think they’re probably pull a vampire reign episode 1 and after the sword thing just like,,, fast forward to a quick ambiguous shot of Guren at 24 standing in a broken world in his demon army uniform uuuh like OW I WANNA SEE IT I WANT TO SEE IT I WANT TO oH MY GOD THE CINEMATOGRAPHY-

-in conclusion *mails kagami 12 dollars* pwease mw kagami

#owari no seraph #ca16 #gureshin #long ass post

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dc-superhero · 4 years

Text

Red and Blue - blue beetle x reader

The team are both surprised and suspicious when a young girl turns up with a scarf just like Jaime's and the Reach. But Jaime is just star struck, not to mention Scarab is pestering him over you.

"It’s a simple mission. Well split up into two groups. M'gann, Superboy, Bart, L'gann Boy and myself in one group, Nightwing, Blue Beetle, Wondergirl and Robin in the other."

Aqualad looked round at the members present in the meeting, some were busy either dealing with their own problems or helping their mentors whilst others had to deal with issues from their own lives. He was fine with the group assembled though, all experienced and practical fighters, well maybe except Impulse.

In return the group nodded, resdy to suit up for the mission and head out.

"This is so crash, an undercover covert mission, ninjas and a cool tropical island. Not gonna be feeling the mode today, woo !"

As the others dissembled to board the Bio-ship and rests themselves for the mission, Impulse dashed over to his best bud Blue Beetle chatting away at a hundred miles a minute. Unlike the others these covert missions were new to him, he’d only arrived about two weeks ago and found everything to be just as exciting and crash as people in the future told him, like Nathaniel or his parents. He couldn’t get over the fact he was here, especially with friends like Jaime.

"Sshshh Ese, my head hurts so a little quieter please."

Jaime grumbled at the now Moder speedster who looked a little sadder from finding out Jaime wasn’t as excited as him. Seeing this the Blue Beetle warrior decided to try and push past his raging headache from lack of sleep, too much coffee and finals coming up.

"It’s pretty cool I guess. Ninjas are crash."

Bart's smile instantly lifted into a big grin as he started his rambling once again about "covert missions are crash", "the past is so awesome" and "I really love chicken wizzies, do you have any ?". Pain radiated through his head, put he ignored it to both to stop his friend from getting disheartened and also to help him concentrate better on the mission at hand.

———————————

Santa Larisco Island 20:18 July

With one team covering the ground and another circling the perimeter of the island, the mission started off smoothly. The two sons of Batman were more skilled than the bets ninjas on the island and easily snuck past their defences, hacking the mia frame of the eco outer within the temple-like base. With the defences now down, Kaldur signalled his team to go in, the mind-link set up among them by M'gann.

"Okay Robin, Nightwing start downloading the information on The Light and it's partners. Everybody else it’s your mission to take in the wanted criminals here who have escaped Belle Rev. Icicle jnr, Shimmer and Bane are reported to be here on the island."

A series of "on it"s and "yes" rattled through their leader's mind as the others made their way across the island. Well except for one person. Jaime Reyes couldn’t explain 2hag it was but something was drawing him to turn away from Wondegirl and Eobin and to explore further into the jungle. It was stupid, probably his mind going a little nuts from sleep deprivation but those thoughts were swept away when Scarab spoke up.

"I sense it too, Jaime Reyes, there’s some energy source coming from that grove. You must get closer so I can scan for what it is."

In his usual commanding voice Scarab's words were th last push that sent Jaime off to explore what was letting off the strange energy. Distracted by the computer and coding, both Nightwing and Robin didn’t notice whilst Wondergirl began to fly off to aid Spuerboy against Icicle jnr.

Wing ready, he took off flying low just over the treetops scanning the ground with keen eyes until he noticed light red waves pulsing out from below the trees. Like a heart beat the pulses would expand and then contract, in this nearly crimson colour.

"The energy is from another scarab, Jaime Reyes. You must investaigte now. If it is another scary you just terminate them !"

Jaime rolled his eyes at his Scarab's usual persistence of "terminating", which he threw in way too much. Only the other day when Bart has invited him over to the Allen's house has the Scarab insisted they "terminate" Iris and Barry's twins for sticking gum in his hair.

"I’m not going to terminate them!"

Annoyed and now suffering from a full-blown migraine, Jaime snapped at his scrab but did begin to descend from the treetops.

As he neared the ground he saw that the source of the energy was a young girl, clothes half burnt off from where he could see as she was rolled into a small ball facing away from him. However he did manage to see a long red gash travelling down the exposed area of her back. Inwardly he cringed at how much blood was coursing out of it. Whoever this girl was she needed medical trade,not and stat.

"The Scarab user is injured Jaime. Finish her now whilst she’s out."

Jaime swore he could almost hear Scarab's inner evil chuckle.

"No. There will be no terminating. She’s hurt. Even if she’s a scarab user she’s clearly injured."

Cautiously, he approached you, kneeling down next to your form. Your (h/c) hair was covering your face, and it was clear that the front of you was much more exposed than the back of you. Clearly, you’d been shot at, around the chest area with something that could disintegrate rather than a piercing bullet.

"Chica, whoever you are, wake up. I promise I-"

Just as Jaime reached his hand out to brush your hair from you face, trying his best to be cautious and act harmless, you suddenly and swiftly sat up, grabbing the hand reaching four you and twisting his arm. Jaime let out a shriek of pain, Scarab telling him "I told you so", as his sonic canon activate on his free arm, raising it fire at you.

However to both his horror and surprise, he was met with another sonic blaster, but red in contrast to his blew. The pair of you remained there, kneeled and sat on the floor, arms raised to fire at each other whilst your other froze on his. Eyes wide, and mouth a small "O" shape, Jaime imagined your look of surprise mirrored his.

Sure he’d known beforehand that you had a Scarab, but it still took him by surprise to see another one like him.

You on the other hand were having a far worse time. Pain pulsed from your legs, arms, back. You name it, it hurt. Even your pinky toes radiated with pain. To make it worse here you were, on some random forest floor, unable to remember how you got here with a sonic blaster obnoxiously pushed up into your face. This day was shit.

"What happened to me?" Brain a jumbled mess you tried to remember what had happen3d as your eyes never left those of the boy in forms of you. Under other circumstances you might have found him cute.

"Upon escaping the Reach we suffered a blast too the chest from Black Beetle's Ion canon. We are lucky to be alive right now (y/n)."

"Ohhhh"

This time you let out an audible response which surprised Jaime a little as you seemed to break a way from your death stare at him.

Upon doing this his eyes travelled away from stare and then did he realise something. Something he probably should’ve noticed sooner. So,etching that Scarab would remind him of many times in e future to come.

You were naked around the front, exposing well your middle, and other parts north of their.

"Gahhh! I’m sorry..."

Like an arrow he shoot uo from where he was kneeling next to you and scurried further away, hands covering his eyes.

"Jaime Reyes to not cover your eyes when the enemy is about. You won’t be able to terminate them."

Jaime felt his face go red as he turned to face you a little, peeking from in between his fingers.

"Oh my god !"

Letting out a squeal, you instantly folded your arms over your chest, quickly turning away from the boy as you felt your face blossom into a colour so red it matched your beetle. Turns out you were half naked, high your Scarab decided not to tell you.

"You creep, coming near me like that when I’m like this ! I don’t care if you’re another beetle user, I’m going to kill you..., well when I get a shirt on I will!"

Frustrated, angered and afraid you screeched at the boy, the Blue beetle user, as he gave you a sheepish look before starting to talk into what you guessed was an earpiece of some kind.

"Blue Beetle, come in Kaldur.....yeah I’m on the south side....you guys fly the Bio-ship. I found something you’ll want to see."

By the way he spoke you guessed he was addressing others, maybe a team ? A cold gust of air sucked you out of your thoughts as your arms covering your chest tightened a little, a feeble attempt to generate a little bit of warmth. Stuck outside in the middle of the night with your clothes torn to pieces, you were definitely starting to feel the cold.

"Jaime Reyes the other scarab user is cold. The female will develop hypothermia. As you don’t want to terminate her, I suggest warming her up."

Jaime eyed your shivering body, to which you glared back in return as you didn’t take to his wondering gaze kindly. Sure the others were on the way but you looked freezing and it would be embarrassing to meet a whole group of people without something covering your upper half properly.

"Ay I guess you’re right."

Sighing, Jaime retracted his blue better form, the suit disappearing to reveal him in his civvies. Eyes wide you watched as the blue beetle revealed himself to be a quite attractive young man, around your age with jet black hair and dark warm eyes. Warm. Oh you wished you were warm, as another shiver rattled your injured and tired body.

"Take caution (y/n), the blue beetle is still a threat."

Your scarab's calm but bristled voice washed through your mind and you knew she had a point. However when Jaime started to unzip his hoodie, leaving him in a T-shirt and offering his source of warmth to you, you threw caution to the wind.

"Here, use this."

Still cautious, he approached you, making sure to look you directly in the eyes.....no wondering glances. In return yiu looked up at him, wary at first until a small smile formed on your face.

"Thank you....."

You trailed off, not knowing his name.

"Jaime Reyes."

He knew it was dumb to tell a stranger, potentially a threat his secret identity, but he found himself trusting you, just a little bit. Perhaps it was because you had something in common. The shared dilemma of having an alien creature stuck on your back.

"Well thank you Jaime Reyes."

You took the hoodie with a smile and quickly put it on, zipping it up and allowing warmth to flood you. Warmth from Jaime wearing it....

A small blush adorned your cheeks as you realised the strange boy, who for one had seen half of you naked had given you his hoodie that was coated in a nice boyish smell like mint and pine leaves and cinnamon.

"Your hormone levels are spiking (y/n), it appears you are attracted to the one who calls himself Jaime Reyes."

At your scarabs words, your blush darkened and you jerked upright like an arrow. Jaime raised an eyebrow at your reaction, seeing your blush and strange behaviour.

"Maybe the female scarab user has a fever."

Scarab's words made sense, and Jaime nodded to himself. That sounded about right, your red face and jerky actions definitely made it seem like you were sick. You certainly felt a little sick, still a little chilly even with Jaime's hoodie and your injuries were worsening the longer you went without attending to them.

The large cut across your back ached and you could almost feel the cool chill of the blood surrounding it, you probably looked very beaten and bloody. Blood loss, nausea and fatigue started to set in, your body had fought for so long and finally now you believed you were saved, or at least were going to be taken off that damn island.

"Your losing too much blood (Y/n), you need medical attention now, or you’ll pass out."

Scarab's warning words almost sounded sympathetic as they resonated through your head. Now that you thought about it you did feel sleepy, so so sleepy....

Eyes falling shut your body and mind finally gave up fighting, giving into the peaceful lull of slumber. Seeing your collapsing body, Jaime rushes forwards catching you before you hit the ground in his arms. The quite small breaths leaving your lips reassured him that you were dead but rather sleeping and he let out a sigh of relief.

"She’s not dead, thank god. Migraine, mid terms and a dead girl to top it all off, sounds like a crappy day."

Up close now he could see the damage done to you, blood spotting your shredded shirt as your wide gashes still dripped with blood.

"Jaime the female has fainted. Her blood levels are low and she appears malnourished. Medical attention is needed immediately."

Surprisingly, Scarab was choosing to help you and your own Scarab out, not willing to let another one of his species die or at least their host.

"I know, I know. The others are almost here. She’ll be fine.....your safe now (y/n)."

Still sleeping, a tiny smile formed on your lips, almost as if you could hear Jaime's comforting words.

———————————-

Might make a part two, let me know if you want one and what I should write next !

#blue beetle x reader #jaime reyes x reader #young justice #young justice imagine #x reader

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