#damn it's taking so long

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

A Wolf’s Heart | [Deglan x M!Reader] | The Witcher | Part VII

Note: I’m proud (more like ashamed haha...) to announce that the one year anniversary of this requested fic has already passed, like oh god... Ngl I struggled so hard to find the direction I wanted to take this, I had several ideas but mid-writing I wanted to change it again and now we have this. Writing is hard. This will be a life-time lesson for me. But ey depression is really a big hurdle sometimes so yeah... anyways, please enjoy and once again, sorry for the wait :)

Fandom: The Witcher

Warnings: Mentions of Blood, Swearing, Depression, Angst, Slight OOC, Non-Canon Story, Century Typical Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Spiraling, Injuries, Self-Concious Reader, Misunderstandings, Mentions of Alcohol Abuse, Mentions of Addiction

Summary: After having suffered heavy injuries at the beginning of winter and being unable to return to Kaer Morhen, Y/N tries to mend his relationships slowly by approaching one of his friends but someone thwarts his plans and he has not yet prepared himself to meet that person again. 

Word Count: 5.05k

Taglist: @thatsequoia​

Note 2: For all the people wondering about the postal service in this story - like how the fuck did those letters find the witchers on the Path... Magic baby 😎 

The name of Deglan’s horse (Borsuk) translates to badger. 

This part mentions Vergen, which appears in the 2nd Witcher game but I haven’t played this game, so my description is inaccurate.

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VIII, Part IX

Masterlist

Deglan once thought he was a patient man. He was wrong. 

Birke was in two weeks and he was about to lose his fucking mind. 

Y/N was invading every second of his days and he had a hard time focusing on training the new brats and lecturing them. Every little thing reminded him of the younger witcher in some way or another. 

In every nook of the school's keep, he could conjure up a memory of them together and if he couldn't touch the other soon, hold him in his arms, kiss him, he would go on a rampage. 

His bad mood could be sensed not only by his apprentices but also by the other witchers. Most of them had already left on the Path, the bunch he trained for example, but some were still here. And all of them were known to be lazy and therefore, their presence stoked his fury whenever he saw them chattering away and lazing around in the Evening hall. 

The fiery annoyance was visible in his eyes and so most avoided him whenever they crossed his path. 

While their presence had been a curse, the presence of one peculiar younger witcher ended up as a blessing. 

Wendir, Y/N's close friend, was one of the men who still lingered in the school and one peculiar Saturday evening, he ended up knocking on Deglan’s door. 

He was working on his next lecture when he heard the knock and he raised an eyebrow when he came face to face with the witcher he had trained alongside of Y/N, Fenri, Barmin and the three others.

The brown-haired man looked serious and a suspicious feeling rose in his chest.

"I received a letter.” 

Those four words were enough for Deglan's heartbeat to speed up. 

Wordlessly he received the paper from the other and he began to read. 

Wendir,

I write to you in hope that you will try to understand my thinking and actions with an objective view. I don't dare send these words to Fenri or Barmin because I must have made them angry and I expect them to doubt my words, which they have every right to do. You're free to do so as well, though I beg you to try and see my reasoning before making your opinion about me. 

As you may know, I haven't returned to Kaer Morhen this winter and have yet to explain why I couldn't. 

At this point, I'm certain you're aware... of my secret, but please do not blame my absence on that. 

You might have already left the keep and though I am uncertain of your next location I ask you to meet me in Vergen and give me the opportunity to explain myself. 

I’m not there yet but I am close and as slow as I currently am, I expect to arrive around the time of Birke and if you still ride like you did when we were younger you possibly will as well. 

I hope to see you soon. 

Y/N, Vengerberg

If you could spare some herbs for me... An accident happened and I lost most of my stash...

Deglan read the letter twice and it took him less than a second to make a decision after he read the last sentence again.

He pointed his finger at Wendir and his voice held a determined tone: 

"You saddle your horse and Borsuk." 

The younger man blinked. 

"Right now?" 

Deglan pushed the letter into Wendir’s hands and began to button up his shirt.

"Right now. And fucking hurry up! I'll go and talk to Rennes before we depart." 

Wendir scratched his head but the brown-haired witcher turned around and hurried down the hall.

Deglan’s lips formed a grim smile as he pulled his witcher medaillon from underneath his shirt and then he turned around and quickly grabbed a few things from his shelves and stuffed them in the bags he had already prepared weeks ago. 

His heartbeat quickened as he put on his fur cloak and his sword scabbards over it. He loosened their belts a bit and then grabbed his armoured gloves. 

Almost, he thought as he put them on as well. 

He glanced at the papers on his table. The lesson plan for the next few days, the unfinished suggestion letter for another parcours course. 

Fuck his lectures, fuck the brats he had to teach and fuck Rennes. 

He would leave right now, whether their leader wanted that or not. He would not ask for permission this time. 

Quickly he wrote down a few words on a piece of paper, left the note on his bed and then he grabbed his bags and walked out of the room to go and find some herbs he could bring with him for Y/N.

Half an hour later Deglan and Wendir left through the gate.

Brace yourself, bastard. I’m done being patient, Y/N.

-

Lisica followed the path to Vergen in a slow but steady walk. The mare seemed content to take it easy for once and her ears moved around to take in all the sounds of the surrounding wildlife. 

Her rider absent-mindedly petted her mane and was deep in thought. 

Will he come?

Y/N had hesitated at first but Hannes convinced him to write a letter to one of his friends. 

At first, he thought about Barmin but something inside of him was too self-conscious to write to his best friend. It was the fact that he had not sent the other a letter in the last few months, he addressed the one where he apologized for his absence to Fenri...

In the end, he chose Wendir, the youngest of their friend group. He might be more understanding in this situation than his best friend. The brunette was surprisingly the most rational besides Barmin. Probably because he had a lot of time to think since he always used to avoid chores and his training in the school’s keep. 

Fond memories rose and he lifted his head to squint at the sun. He still had to ride for a few more hours before he would reach the next bigger village. And from there it would take him another 3 days until he would arrive in Vergen. 

The prospect of more aching leg muscles and a sore butt caused him to smile grimly. 

He had wanted to buy a new saddle for months now but he did not have the money. He had spent most of it on his unexpected stay in Vengerberg and alcohol. The druid, who more or less did a good job, had been expensive and even though Iven gave him a discount on his stay in the tavern, Y/N’s pockets were lighter than he liked. 

His annoyance only grew as he thought of how he spent the coins he had received from Fenri’s hunt. 

He sighed and patted his healing leg. It still hurt a bit and that was why he was travelling at such a slow speed. He didn’t want to hinder the healing process so he was riding at snail’s pace. 

On one side, it was relaxing, on the other, it was boring and it gave his mind a lot of time to wander and to mull over his upcoming stay in Vergen.

He really hoped Wendir would come. 

He needed someone by his side because the prospect of having lost his friends and giving up on the love of his life was filling his head with dark thoughts and things he did not want to think about at all. 

He sighed deeply.

I hope I can still fix this...

Anxious, his hand found one of the wine bottles in his saddle bag, while his other played with the blue cloth around his neck. .

-

3 days later Y/N lowered himself to the ground and led Lisica inside the stable of Vergen’s only inn, The Cauldron, with bowlegs.

Every muscle in his body ached and the dwarf who had pointed him towards the stables at the outskirts of the city and who he paid for Lisica’s stay, chuckled when he saw the hooded figure stiffly walk into the building.

The stable was made out of stone like all the other buildings in the town and since the sun had yet to set, the lanterns inside weren’t lit and therefore, only few specks of light entered the barn. Not that the darkness was a problem for his eyes.

He rolled his tight shoulders and examined the building. It was quite big with 12 horse boxes made of wooden walls that reached the middle of his torso. Most of them seemed occupied by horses of all sizes and colors.

The witcher led Lisica into the first unoccupied box near the entrance. Next to it was one with a white pony.

The little guy - who most likely belonged to one of the many dwarves in town - looked curiously over the wooden wall and Lisica greeted him with a snort, while her owner took off her bridle. She stretched her neck, and he followed her example and groaned as he stretched his whole body, her bridle still in his left hand. He stepped out after giving Lisica a head pat and hung it on the designated hook outside the door.

Next to the right wall of the box was a saddle stand and a small shelf with some brushes. He made a mental note to use them to reward his mare.

She had been very patient for the last day when they basically rode for 24 hours straight. He would give her a well-deserved massage and make her coat look the shiniest among the horses in the stable.

He was about to step into the box again to get his bags and remove Lisica’s saddle when he noticed a dark brown horse in the box right next to the white pony’s. He could only see the ass of the animal, but it had a scar on its rump that he could recognize easily and relief washed over him like a big wave.

Wendir was here. He had come.

A bit overwhelmed with joy, he quickly entered the box again and rifled through his saddlebags, while ignoring Lisica’s curious headbutts. He found the carrots he had bought from a farmer and gave one to his mare. She gobbled it up while eyeing the other one, but that carrot wasn’t for her.

He temporarily closed the gate to Lisica’s stable and then he walked down the hallway of the barn towards the box with the familiar horse.

In the dim light he saw how Wendir’s mare Katya was dozing while relaxing her right hind leg.

Based on the straw in her fur and some not-fully dried sweat stains, he guessed that his friend still rode like a member of the Wild Hunt and barely arrived before him.

“Hey girl”, he said in a low whisper, and she turned her head.

He held the carrot over the box gate, and it appeared as if she wasn’t interested at first. He frowned.

“Did he urge you like a demon again?”, he asked the horse, remembering the riding lessons he had with his friends, and he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. Katya huffed as if she was agreeing.

Tiredly, she stepped up to the gate and he petted her softly as she ate the carrot.

He was cooing her name, telling her how happy he was to see her, while scratching her head.

If someone saw him, the witcher who stank like a drunkard and looked like someone had used a plow on his face, talking in a high voice, they would probably shake their heads in disbelief and maybe disgust. But he was just too excited.

In maybe half an hour he would explain himself to Wendir and hopefully the other would understand him. His ugly mug would serve as proof and then his friend would help him calm Fenri’s anger and Barmin’s likely disappointment. He could see it before his eyes, and he breathed out as if a big weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

After realizing that he didn’t have more carrots, Katya had enough of his petting, and she walked away from him to return to her former dozing position.

Y/N saw that as a cue to take care of Lisica and returned to her box, where he took off her saddle and put it on the saddle stand. He grabbed one of the brushes and for the next 15 minutes he brushed her and spoke to her in a low voice, while she relaxed and nibbled away on the hay in the corner.

After making sure his mare was comfortable for the night, he grabbed his bags and left the building. It was quite dark now and, in the distance, he could see lights in the houses. 

He was about to slowly follow the stony path to The Cauldron when he heard a snort and when he turned his head, he noticed the small pasture next to the stable. Unlike he had thought before when he entered the stables, there actually was a horse in it.

Something put pressure on his chest.

A few feet away, behind the wooden fence stood an ash grey stallion.

He knew that horse well. He had learned mounted combat on it.

Memories bubbled to the surface, and he felt sick. The sweet aftertaste of Cintrian Faro suddenly tasted foul.

He remembered hours of training and having sore muscles, falling into the dirt, getting kicked after agitating Borsuk too much, hands that helped him out of the saddle, hands that checked him for blisters, hands that had put medicine on the hoof-shaped bruise on his back, hands that he had dreamed about so many times-

Y/N whirled around, his heartbeat thundering loudly in his ears and made one step, two, three- before someone grabbed him by his cloak and dragged him towards the side of the stable.

His attacker hurled him against the stone wall and the impact left him dazed and pain shot through his body from his head to his still healing leg. His collar was seized harshly, the other man basically carried all his weight, and he felt the breath of his assailant on his face.

Y/N didn’t dare open his eyes.  

“You goddamn bloody bastard”, said an agitated voice that he hadn’t heard in almost three years now. His heart quivered and he turned his head away instinctively. His hand let go of his bags in defeat.

Fuck was all he could think at that moment. Bloody fucking hell.

“Look at me, you fucker.”

The witcher breathed out shakily, and then opened his eyes to peer at the other man out of the corner of his vision.

Deglan looked the same as three years ago, besides maybe a few more grey strands in his hair and beard and some wrinkles. His jaw was still framed by a magnificent beard, and his sharp cheekbones combined with his broken nose embodied a handsome roughness. He looked better than ever.

Y/N had a hard time breathing.  

But Deglan’s face was dark, a blazing fury was visible in his yellow eyes and his lips were pulled into a snarl.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment”, growled the older witcher and had he said those words to him in any other moment, Y/N would have felt a sharp tug in his lower body, but due to these circumstances, he only felt panic rising in his chest.

“...S… ‘s good to see you, Deglan...”

At first, he thought that his low murmur was left unnoticed, but his former mentor rose an eyebrow and a second later, he frowned and sniffed the air.

“You smell like shit. How much booze did you drink on your way here? Did you lose your way during the winter and end up in a Brewery instead of Kaer Morhen?”

All of Deglan’s words stung like hell. Fuck, they were a low blow and Y/N winced inwardly. Because as much as it stung, it was halfway true.

He sunk more into himself, and his mentor had to hold him up.

The lack of any reply didn’t seem to sit well with Deglan, so he grabbed him by the chin and roughly turned his head.

“Care to look me in the eye when I speak to y-”

Y/N’s eyes were downcast, and his face was covered in the shadows of his hood, but this didn’t stop the witcher’s eyes from spotting the new ugly scars across his face.

His mentor sucked in some air sharply and he automatically formed his hands into fists. The h/c haired witcher digged his nails into his skin trying to ground himself but this situation was so much worse than any nightmare scenario he had ever imagined, it was of no use.

The grip on his collar left and Y/N’s eyes widened slightly as Deglan’s hand entered his periphery. An absurd fear of getting hit entered his mind, but his mentor did no such thing. 

He touched his cheek, light as a feather and it was so unexpected after his rough handling and talk that Y/N’s limbs turned weak.

His breath quickened automatically as the man he still loved so passionately traced the scar tissue in his face with an unreadable expression.

“...A forktail. It got me good”, he said awkwardly and tried to ignore the growing heat that crept up his neck.

Deglan remained silent, his eyebrows scrunched and with his other hand, he pushed off the hood of Y/N’s cloak to fully reveal the length of his scars, his chipped right ear and his disrupted hairline.

Someone breathed out shakily, Y/N wasn’t sure if it was himself or the other man, but he felt extremely vulnerable and exposed.

This is the worst...

He felt so embarrassed, so ashamed- Talented my ass, if he remembered the last 2 years, he wasn’t exactly the prime example of a good witcher.

Standing in front of Deglan now, he felt inferior.

He hadn’t bathed in weeks, he smelled like a drunkard and was one too. He lost all of his herbs and elixirs, had barely any money left and looked disfigured, and on top of it all, he didn’t even consider the possibility of Wendir’s letter getting into the wrong hands.

Deglan had either forced his friend to read Y/N’s letter to him or his brown-haired friend betrayed him and went to his former mentor by free will. Not so clever, are we…

Anger churned in his chest, but it was overshadowed by the growing black hole that seemed to suck every snippet of hope away from him when he looked at the stony expression of his mentor, the snippets of hope that had begun to burn again after Deglan touched him with such tenderness.

He must be disappointed that his “talented” apprentice let himself get mangled by a monster to such an extent. Why else would he look so stern? There was no other explana-

“Fuck, I worried so much.”

Hands grabbed Y/N’s arms and suddenly there was a weight on his shoulder. Deglan’s head pressed against the thick cloth of his cloak, and he heard him sigh deeply.

His heart pounded loudly in his ear. He blinked. And didn’t react. He stood still as a statue, while his former mentor clung onto him, his fingers digging into the leather armor that covered his wrists. The warmth of the other man was almost unbearable, and Y/N’s breath turned erratic once more.

“L-Let go please”, he croaked, something was blocking his throat.

The older witcher lifted his head and halted. Y/N could practically see how his pupils began to focus on the blue cloth around his throat and had Deglan said something in that moment, he would’ve been unable to hear anything because his heartbeat was thundering so loudly in his chest.

Fuck, oh lord-

“I-“, he began but before he could find the words to formulate the dozen dumb excuses in his mind, Deglan grabbed his head and took his breath away.

The kiss was sloppy and more forceful than anything else, but it ignited the dying fire in Y/N’s hollow chest, and before he could even think about it he found himself leaning into the touch subconsciously.

Their lips parted soon after and he breathed in hastily, feeling light-headed from the lack of oxygen and the fact that Deglan just fucking kissed him.

The younger witcher grabbed his mentor’s upper arms, keeping him at arm’s length away.

“What- what are you doing??” he whispered, staring at the thigh that invaded the space between his legs and his lip quivered as his mind spun from shock.

“Don’t run away anymore, Y/N. You bloody fool.”

He didn’t have time to process these words.

Deglan kissed him again, he pressed his body against his and in the dark of the night, against the cold stone wall of the stable, Y/N fell into the abyss.

His body was going up in flames, every part that Deglan touched started burning and the fire couldn’t be extinguished.

His mentor’s beard scratched his cheeks and his tongue sent shivers down his spine. His left leg was giving out, but it was nonchalantly ignored as the older witcher held him up with his arms and his leg on which Y/N was basically sitting by now.

The friction against his pants was driving him crazy.

Y/N moaned but the sound was silenced by Deglan’s greedy lips, and the two men lost themselves in the fiery heat of the other.

-

Sometime later he recovered and was suddenly he was sitting at a table in the tavern, one of his best friends in front of him while his mentor stared holes into the side of his head from the seat next to him. His bags were tucked under the stool he was currently sitting on.

He didn’t know how he even got there, still dazed from the sudden development. His face flushed as he remembered how his mentor basically devoured his lips and every spot that Deglan’s hands had touched tingled.

“Y/N?” Wendir asked and he blinked to regain his focus.

“Yes?” he croaked; his voice was rough, and he coughed.

Wendir gesticulated at his face, the brown-haired witcher was frowning since the moment he saw his friend’s red rimmed scars and his glossy eyes, as if he had cried just a while ago.

“What happened?”

He opened his mouth to answer but Deglan interrupted him:

“A forktail attacked him.”

Y/N stared at the older man in confusion while Deglan returned his look with a burning gaze. He gulped and turned his head to stare at the wood grain of the table. Because of that he missed Wendir’s raised eyebrow.

“I… I uh was on my way to Hagge when the bastard pounced on me. He surprised me, and I was careless”, he lowered his head and stroke his hair, clenching the other hand into a fist. It wasn’t exactly fun retelling that embarrassing moment again.

He felt totally out of it. All the things he had wanted to tell his friend were lost in the tornado that currently swept through his mind.

Deglan kissed me his brain screamed and between the excitement and the shock he was left dazed and speechless. So, he just told Wendir and Deglan the most important thing he wanted his friend to know:

“I was on my way to Kaer Morhen, you have to believe me.”

He hesitantly looked up at the other two and his gaze met Deglan’s. His mentor looked at him, his yellow eyes filled with something Y/N couldn’t quite fathom. Something flitted across his face and like many times before he wished he could hear what was going on inside his mentor’s head.

“I believe you.”

Wendir cut the moment between them short, but relief trickled through the h/c haired witcher and the tension in his shoulders disappeared. His eyes met his friend’s, and both smiled weakly.

“We know how old scars look on a witcher and yours are still fairly new” said Wendir and he gave their mentor a meaningful look.

Said man remained quiet, his expression was blank, hiding his feelings like a mask and it worried Y/N endlessly. But before he could say anything the inn keeper arrived and placed three jugs of beer down on their table.

“If ye want more, get it yerself, there-” the short man pointed at the barrels lined up at the wall across the tavern. The giant wood barrels were barely visible behind the number of patrons currently inside. “I’ll put it on yer tab. Ask my daughter if you want to pay.” He nodded at a young woman who walked past with some dishes in her hands.

The witchers all expressed their thanks and the inn keeper left, Y/N downed his drink in a few gulps, and then was about to stand up to get another and to momentarily flee but Deglan reached out lightning quick and grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. 

“If I were you, I’d stop drinking so much.”

His mentor’s hand burned like fire on his skin and for a second the h/c haired witcher thought about their moment next to the stables and how much his breath must have smelled, and he ducked his head and nodded slowly. 

Wendir looked at them with a strange expression but when he saw how Deglan watched his friend with eagle eyes after taking his hand back, his own eyes grew big and the corners of his mouth twitched. 

Oh, he saw what was going on. There must have been a reason why his mentor and Y/N had entered the tavern at the same time, the latter clearly dazed as if something life-changing had happened.

“Congratulations”, he said while lifting his jug, an amused smirk dancing on his lips.

Y/N stared at him and mirrored the gesture visibly confused but before he could ask why Wendir congratulated him, the brunette began to talk about his and Deglan’s journey to Vergen. 

The h/c haired witcher barely payed attention, Wendir suffering Deglan’s silence went in one ear and out the other, his head still back at the stable, Deglan’s words echoing in his mind.

“Don’t run away anymore, Y/N.”

Run away? Did this really mean what he was thinking? Was it all a misunderstanding? Did Deglan actually- 

“Okay, okay, that’s enough. Look at him, he’s fucking tired. He is not the only one. We should all go to bed, I already paid for our rooms.” 

Deglan interrupted Wendir’s dramatic retelling with rolling eyes and stood up, his empty jug in one hand, some coins for the payment of their drinks in another. His words interrupted Y/N’s racing thoughts and he felt as if he returned to reality. 

As if...

“Oh, yes, I need to ask for my room.”

“Wait-”

He stood up - his hands taking the bags from underneath his seat - and due to one of the barmaids manouvering herself and 6 jugs between the tables and bodies, Y/N evaded Deglan’s outstretched hand and he hurried to the inn keeper, who had retreated back behind the counter where he was cleaning the used jugs in a skilled fashion.

“I’d like to get a room please and a bath”, he said, a little breathless, rummaging through one of his saddle bags to look for his coin pouch. 

“Not with one of the others, huh? There’s only one room left and it’s connected to the one next to it but ye can lock the door. I’m sure ye take what ye can get. Room plus bath costs 120 a night, another 15 if ye want hot water.”

Y/N didn’t really understand what he meant with his first words but he didn’t think about it too long because he could feel a certain someone stare holes into his back and it messed with his head. 

“Uhh, yes, I’ll take that one. Here-” he handed the man the amount and some additional coins, “make sure the door stays closed. And I’ll take hot water please.”

The inn keeper nodded and then waved at his daughter, who hurried towards them as soon as she spotted her father. 

“Take the lad upstairs and prepare a hot bath in the corner room.”

His daughter, a red-haired, busty young woman, looked him up and down, her eyes visibly frowning when she saw his scarred face, but she said nothing and instead took the key for the room from her father’s hand and then gestured for him to follow her. 

The h/c haired witcher thanked the old man and then quickly followed her to the stairs. A look back showed him that Deglan was still watching him, his yellow eyes were dark and holding something predatory. Wendir behind him only grinned and gave him a little wave. 

The woman led him to the first floor and to the room which was furthest away from the stairs. She unlocked the door and gave him the key without touching his skin.

“Here”, she stated and quickly retracted her hand. “I’ll come back with hot water in a few minutes. It will be fully prepared in about an hour.”

He nodded and quietly whispered his thanks, as her eyes darted everywhere but his face. He bit his lip and then walked into the room, where he placed his bags at the foot of the bed. 

The room was small, there was only space for the bed, a chest in the left corner next to it and next to the door behind a folding screen was a wooden bath tub. 

The door which connected this room to the one next to it, was small, smaller than his height but it seemed to be used regularly as no dust appeared on the door handle. 

The daughter of the inn keeper took a bucket from behind the folding screen and then left him alone in the room, closing the door behind her.

Y/N sighed and sat down on the bed. He rubbed his face with his hands. 

What the hell had just happened in the last 30 minutes? Was he dreaming?

A certain witcher asked himself the same question but due to different reasons.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Expertise can't help you here.

[ruoyeming]

Zombie apocalypse AU hualian designs for my fanfic that I WILL finish.. for real guys...

[forecast0ctopus]

i choose to believw cartoon heart boxers are still there in the 23rd century because its funny

[tapakah0]

[musubiki]

.🖤🔄🤍.

[just-null]

i would love to see mitsuri in your art style! im not sure if you post girls to often but i saw you drew daki and thought i'd ask! anyways have an amazing night or dayy!!!

LOVE BEAM CANON

i dont draw women often but i do enjoy the moments when i do, it's very fun!! i really like mitsuri. she scratches the dumb strong airhead with a good heart character type that i adore.

a bonus kimetsu gakuen meme except the version where MY BOYS ARE THERE.

[og image under the cut!]

[sugoi-writes]

Can I get some fluff of Alastor finding reader listening to old jazz songs from when he was alive and he makes us dance with him? :)

It's Been a While... (Alastor x GN! Reader)

Ahaha, I need more work on fluff, I hope you like it! There is SOME mentions of risque activites, but it's super brief, and nothing insanely explicit! Promise! I was honestly just writing to write, and figured this little blurb that fell out of me would be fitting enough. UNO REVERSE... We get ALASTOR to dance! Fuck yes!!!

Songs mentioned: In The Mood - Glenn Miller / Sing, Sing, Sing - Benny Goodman (both are bops I used to play when I was in jazz band houhosjknskhdj-- SURPRISE, you also get Danny Lore as a treato!)

Alastor's tense, heavy sigh sounds in the air, prompting you to crane your head up. You took in his disheveled state and instantly knew: he was exhausted. You stood from your plush armchair, abandoning it to walk toward his desk. 

"Alastor?" was all that was needed for his flattened ears to perk up. Your sweet voice was a much needed comfort during a particularly grueling evening. 

"Yes, dearest?" he replied, his smile hardly an upturned slit. You come up behind him slowly, waiting for his permission to touch. Alastor looks back to your hovering hands, and nods gingerly. He returns to facing his desk, allowing his eyes to lose focus as he zones out. When your arms wrap around his neck, his shoulders slump heavily, a pleased hum vibrating his chest. You smiled sweetly at the sound, a welcome pleasantry as you kissed his cheek. 

"You're getting frustrated again, my love..." you pipe up, continuing to pepper his cheek with chaste, innocent kisses. Your lover laughs bitterly, but leans into your musings all the same. 

"Well, I suppose you're right... leave it to my sweet, observant partner to know what's wrong... and when," he adds, a tired hand reaching up to rub slow circles into one of your arms. You grin against his cheek, your kisses slowing," I may also have a solution to your problem, if you'll hear me out~" 

Alastor hums in approval, grasping both of your hands when you continue to pamper him with sweet, physical adoration. 

"Dear, you are nothing if not full of brilliant ideas... I would love to hear them out," he muses, turning his head to plant a singular, sincere kiss to your lips. You were giddy at the affection, but capped your glee.  You tugged on his hands, eager to make your little plan work.

"Come on, come on... you'll have to get up for this one," you quip, forcing a dramatic sigh from your partner. Alastor throws his head back, laying it on your shoulder like an ill peasant woman. He would fan his face weakly, had your hands not been so warm.  

"My love, I have been stricken, and cannot get up~ Won't you let an old man rest?" he fired back. But truly, had you asked: he would happily jump into acid rain with nothing more than his dignity.

You roll your eyes at his theatrics, smirking," You? Old? I wouldn't figure... No, you old geezer, I need you to stand so we can use your legs. They're very important for what I want to do." Alastor blinked, gears turning in his mind. Only with you would his mind wander to dirtier, carnal ideas. 

"Dear, if I had wanted to do that tonight, I'm afraid your back would've already been bent out of shape--" 

"Oh for Fucks Sake, Alastor--" you cackled, tugging on him with more insistence. 

" Come oooonnnnn, please~? It's one of your favorites, I promise! Nothing dirty, no tricks!" Alastor's interest is instantly piqued, resulting in an immediate hop up. Even with his motion, his hands were still in yours. You huff, exacerbated but grateful you didn’t have to lift him yourself. 

"Ahh, if you would have led with that, I may've been more urgent to attend to you, dear," Alastor chuckles, not missing the flush that flashed across your cheeks. You pull away from Alastor long enough to turn on the radio, flicking through several frequencies and stations to find just the right channel. Alastor watches you in amusement, arms crossing in front of his chest. He was more than content to watch you struggle, shifting his weight onto one foot.

"Well, I have to keep some of the suspense, don't I?" you replied, grinning at him in a way that made Alastor's black heart beat wildly. He did quite enjoy your mischievous nature... But your attempts to work his radio almost had him pitying you... Almost. 

He scooted in behind you, resting his crossed arms over the top of your head," You could request a song, you know... I don't mind putting on something you enjoy--" 

"I'd rather it be something we’d both enjoy," you interject, huffing as you became an armrest for your demonic partner. Once you found the right channel, you swiveled under Alastor's arms to face him. Then, you reach up to hold his elbows, shaking them around playfully. 

"Alright, sir... It's been a long, long time since we've done this... I want to do this properly." 

Alastor relents, allowing you to push his arms off of your head. He tilts his own toward you, expressing confusion. In that moment, he finally hones in on the song itself. In The Mood, popularized and recorded by Glenn Miller. It was one of the few songs that came to mind when you thought of "Alastor's Time" in the 30s. Said demon blinks in surprise, grinning. He had listened to this recording a bit after coming to hell, and was particularly fond of it. Ahh, you had picked the perfect station! 

"Glenn Miller? Oh, you spoil me, love," Alastor coos, caressing your face as he kisses your forehead," Whatever did I do to deserve this?" 

You sway your hips, bouncing in place to the tempo with the old tune," I know the recording's after your time... but-- He's just-- GOOD, y'know?" You bite your lip as you pull Alastor's hands off of your face," Now come on, Al... let's dance!" What a perfect distraction to break his tension and troubled mind! Alastor just knew he would enjoy your little idea... 

His hands settle on you, both lightly caging your hips as yours held onto his wide shoulders. As the main motif began, the both of you started bopping along to the music. You watched Alastor's face morph fully into a relaxed state; smile still present, but much softer than his manic glee. You had to use every fiber in your being not to kiss him in that instant, instead squeezing his shoulders. Alastor's ears twitch as you draw soothing circles into his tense muscles, a shudder being torn from his entire frame. 

"Relax, Alastor... I want you to forget about everything, except for this...," you coo, making him sigh with acceptance. He came close to you, flushing your bodies together in a tight, intimate sway. You could only sigh as he settled his chin onto the top of your head. 

"Oh darling, if I relaxed anymore, I would be putty in your hands...," Alastor chimes, the tail end of his sentence wandering off as you press harder. Alastor huffs pleasantly, his hands holding your hips more firmly," Sweetheart, you really will be my undoing..." 

You chuckle as you settle your hands, allowing Alastor a moment of reprieve. He rolls his shoulders, one hand seeking to grasp your opposite hand. Once he drew your arm out with his, his other hand shifted to the small of your back. You saw him grinning, playful and energetic," If it's a dance you want, then it had better be a good one, hmm? So let's jive~" 

You squealed as Alastor practically whisked you off of your feet, spinning the both of you elegantly around his bedroom. The sounds of cicadas and frogs croaking in the distant, swampy marsh of his extended bedroom accompanied the sweet jazz that filled the air. Truly, it was tying everything together seamlessly. You had it all: a nice scene, nice music, and a relaxed, precious beau to spend all night with. You would have patted yourself on the back, were it not for Alastor's telltale sign of a 'big dip' move. You looped both arms around his neck, hanging on as Alastor swung you down, his monocle threatening to slip off his face. You laughed as you casually adjusted it. You stared, enthralled as you lay your hand over his racing pulse. However, the moment didn’t last long before you were brought back to your feet. But you thought now would be the best time to be a bit closer…

Getting bolder now, you pulled Alastor in for a kiss via his bowtie, eager to finish the dance off strong. Alastor, of course, had no protests, as he looped his arms around your waist. The two of you embraced like this for what felt like an hour, unable to pull apart your mingling, eager lips. But, with the song ended, leaving you both in silence, you managed to pull away. You looked up to Alastor with knowing eyes, your smile reflected in his deep, red irises.

"I loved that, Alastor, thank you... And I hope you don't mind me whisking you away from work..." 

The Radio Demon rolled his eyes, an imitation of your look from earlier. He leaned down to kiss your cheek, his lips still puffy from your kiss," My love, you must whisk me away more often... In fact, I think I'd like another dance, if you'll join me?" Of course, you agreed silently, stepping on to the very tips of your toes to seal it with a kiss. 

"I'd love nothing more." 

Alastor grins with a deep chuckle, the radio pumping out a new song. Sing, Sing, Sing, popularized by Benny Goodman. You blink in surprise as this number moves... MUCH faster. And, from the sound of it, it will get you to sweat. You laughed nervously as Alastor brought you in again, his hand directing your hips to sway with his. You couldn’t help but become a little flustered as he closed the gap between your bodies, a playful, coy smile sent your way. 

"Hold on tight, love. Some recordings of this song could last up to ten minutes~" 

"WHAT--" 

Alastor practically cackled as you trapped yourself within a saucy dance, one of many that would fill your evening with sweat, laughter, and best of all: an Alastor whose smile finally reached his eyes. 

[egophiliac]

have you seen the new nightwear groovy? alas, the dream of the animal onesies or the pillow fight groovy are dashed 😞 - i have yet to see the card's story but i assume that yuu is interviewing the boys again this year like the birthday boy cards cause there's no other characters in the card (?)

I too am disappointed that we didn't get a big full-on pillow fight. 😔 but he DOES battle by throwing his pillow, so at least we get some cushion action in there!

it looks like this round of birthday cards aren't going to be interviews/conversations, at least not for most of it -- the first part was Jamil talking to Ortho (who he duos with) about what his dormmates are doing for his birthday (they're setting up a surprise party/parade (because Kalim) but they're doing an extremely bad job of it and he's having to go around making sure that they don't screw it up) (being Jamil is suffering). second part was Jamil talking to his (unvoiced mob) roommate and answering Crowley's School Improvement Survey (he wants bigger bathrooms) (also a fridge in his room) (actually, make that a whole kitchen) (but mostly bigger bathrooms). then third part was his ~morning routine~, aka talking to himself about his hair and makeup, as one does in a visual novel. it's less cohesive than the previous birthday stories, but it's all pretty chill and there's some fun stuff in there! (Najma sent him hair stuff for his birthday that's way too fancy and he can't decide if she did it to annoy him or not. truly, being Jamil is indeed suffering.)

if all the cards are going to be about nightly/morning routine though, we're going to absolutely melt when we get to Vil, brace yourselves

[housederiva]

Is it just me or is there way less fanart being made for this game than the previous ones? Kind of makes me sad, I remember with dai I could check the tags every few hours and find something new weeks after launch, now I only can get away with only looking a few times and week and miss nothing.

I don't think that's Veilguard exclusive.

Things I and my mutuals draw now are getting less notes/reblogs than they did even one year ago, regardless of the fandom. Fanfiction is getting less comments and kudos on ao3 too (not that they were getting many comments in the first place) Less gifs are being made because gif makers weren't getting reblogs. Hell, most of the post I make have a huge discrepancy between likes and reblogs and add polls into that? A thousand people voted on something and only a dozen people reblog it. It's a hollowing feeling when you realise you're calling out to an empty void, I don't blame people for creating less art because of that.

I don't see a vast majority of the people who follow me in my notes because I have likes disabled. Multiple times someone has sent me an ask apologizing for spamming me with likes and I don't understand it? That is not a bad thing And unless you reblogged anything along the way, I didn't even realise you were doing it in the first place. And the people whose notes I do see are not annoying in the slightest, I love the tags you add and I'm sure the original poster does even more so

I'm not trying to shame anyone Into interacting with the fandom spaces they're in but the whole point of Tumblr and what makes it a blogging platform and not social media is that this is a show and tell website. You're supposed to look at something you think is cool and then wave it around for your followers to see and then they pick it up and do the same regardless of how old it is

When you reblog an ask game from someone it used to be common courtesy to send that person one of the asks from it. Folks used to leave comments analysing paragraphs from stories people wrote and theorising about what would happen next on every chapter. We used to send each other asks just asking about our ocs unprompted

If there's no interaction or community when you create something, then what's the point of creating it? It sucks that fandom is morphing into something to be consumed and thrown away the second it's more than a week old unless you're one of a handful of blogs that got lucky and picked up traction at just the right moment

I'm sorry for the rant but I get emotional when I think about the decay of fandom spaces for too long. And this goes without saying, but you guys can reblog anything on my dash if the button isn't disabled on it

[daynascullys]

how to say “I love you” in x-files [10/?] ⤷ 2.08 — “One Breath”

[doomedclockworkdotmp3]

heeyyy gaaanggg

the pose and the background of the album version (left) are based on oingo boingos only a lad album art. not cause i think he has anything to do with it but just cause ive been wantin to draw that pose for like. weeks and i didnt know who to put there. so why not my latest bug man.

[deoidesign]

I met the me who made different choices

[reinabeestudio]

I can't see you. Can you see me?

(WH spoilers + tw: eyes)

+ bonus of the directions I used for this! :]

[seyaryminamoto]

My latest completed commission may have been a bit ambitious... because I went wild with it. But I certainly relished in doing so :') Combining my favorite ship with my favorite-ever Disney movie is, uh... a dangerous concoction :'D

The commissioner specifically requested for Azula as Mulan, Sokka as Shang, and Xin Long (my OC dragon from Gladiator) as Mushu. The rest of the cast was up to me to choose, and I pretty much went wild rewatching this movie and picking out some of my favorite moments to recreate them in my style, with these characters. I came up with a lot of correlating characters between both ATLA and 1998's Mulan, but I couldn't hope to draw EVERYTHING, unfortunately. Still, if you want my reasoning for the cast correlation... check out the Read More! Beyond that, feel free to reach out to me if you'd like to commission me, or if you want to join my Patreon!

The Herbalist as Mulan's grandmother might feel arbitrary but she honestly felt like the ATLA elderly lady with the most similar personality to Grandma Fa. Fickle, with a unique connection with a seemingly perfectly ordinary animal, old and sassy? Figured it fit! So for once, the Herbalist is Azula's grandma! xD strange notion, I know, Azulon/Herbalist is not a ship I ever thought I'd accidentally put out in the world but there have been wilder ships than that in this fandom...

Momo became Cri-Kee, I wasn't 100% sold on it but when I considered that Avatar features soooo many hybrid animals... I figured he could be a hybrid cricket-lemur. Weird, I know, but eh? Better than nothing xD

Aang as Chien-Po was a no-brainer. He's the only character I settled on instantly, never even considered anyone else for the role. Their personalities line up really well, and Chien-Po's tendency to be OP and resolve things that are outside of other people's reach sounded like he was prime Avatar material! So, while their dietary preferences are an obvious difference between them, I decided to go for it nonetheless considering all their other similarities!

Kino (another Gladiator OC) is Ling, and he actually did give me a ton of trouble to choose. I considered many characters for the role right up until I realized that Kino's personality actually lines up fairly well with Ling's, down to being a class clown type (who ABSOLUTELY would have cut gym class!) and breaking out in song about the hypothetical woman he'd like to fight for? Yeeeeah that's right up his alley xD but there's another reason why I picked Kino...

... And that is my likely unexpected choice for Yao:

ZUKO.

ZUKO IS YAO.

YES.

I'M NOT EVEN SORRY.

(For the uninitiated, Aang, Zuko and Kino are best friends in Gladiator, very often together, and they make a really good team, so that's the extra reason why Kino became the obvious choice for Ling aside from having really similar personalities, definitely closer personalities than, say, Jet, for instance.)

People have likened Zuko to Shang a LOT since ATLA aired. This is the main reason why I'm even making this huge note! I suspect it's primarily because of the aesthetic, let's be real here, and because he becomes Aang's teacher, but people have exaggerated Zuko's alleged similarities with Shang, or taken them out of proportion, in many ways. I actually remember an AMV ages ago with "Be a Man" and it was Zuko "training the Gaang"?? It... didn't feel right to me. Obviously, someone might rebuff with "well, how does Sokka make MORE sense than that, though?" And believe it or not, I have arguments for that... (when do I not...?)

Not only is this what the commissioner specifically requested (and it obviously lines up with the ship we love!), but let's examine the actual reasons why Sokka as Shang adds up:

Sokka actually had to train a bunch of toddlers who weren't paying any attention to him. You know. Kind of how Shang had to train the unruly soldiers who weren't getting anything right. Sokka has a positive relationship with his dad (Zuko, ofc, does not). Shang also has a positive relationship with his dad! And not only this, but there's a military component to both relationships, specifically with Shang wanting to follow on his father's footsteps and aid him in the war... so much like someone else I know, who jumped at every opportunity to rejoin his father in the war, even wishing to join him as a child until Hakoda tasked him with protecting their Tribe instead (kinda like Shang is tasked with training soldiers rather than joining a battlefield).

And the final cherry-on-top that I'd loooove to hear Zuko fans try to argue against... is sexism :') didn't Sokka get characterized as a sexist guy for four episodes, which made people decide that this was his main character trait even if it went away that quickly? Um, yes, that happened. Shang literally sings the memorable song that's a crazy ode to masculinity, including the rather sexist line of "did they send me daughters when I asked for sons". Shang outright abandons Mulan once they discover that she was a woman all along (while, admittedly, choosing to abandon her rather than KILL HER, which as we saw from Chi-Fu, he was NOT supposed to spare her!)...

So, is this REALLY what Zuko fans, who willfully believe their boy is a feminist king (... why? beats me...) are trying to compare their unproblematic blorbo to? :'D Me? I have no problem linking Sokka with Shang due to Sokka's beginnings and due to the fact that both Shang and Sokka have similar growth when it comes to accepting femininity is as valid as masculinity, and as they both learn to respect women as fighters and potential heroes! (I simply do not believe Sokka's ENTIRE tenure in ATLA was about that, though, and that's what I continue to clash with the fandom over...) So... all this is why I've reasoned that Sokka is a VERY solid choice for Shang, in fact, better than Zuko could hope to be.

... but this isn't all.

Maybe some might accept my arguments for Sokka-Shang. And then, they might ask:

WHY ZUKO AS YAO, THO??

... And the truth is it took me long to see it, myself, but HOLY SHIT, DOES IT FIT!

What is the primary thing we remember about Yao in Mulan? This guy is constantly itching for a fight, to prove himself, surely riddled with insecurities that he exteriorizes through overcompensation of masculinity. He's funny as fuck, but he's taking himself 100% seriously as a manly man all the time, and he's always ready for violence. But there's one more thing...

He treats Mulan as his RIVAL.

And more often than not? SHE SCREWS HIM OVER. Intentionally or not.

What does that sound like? Why, yes, it sounds a LOT like Azula and Zuko's sibling relationship!

The fact that Yao is a temperamental dude who lashes out easily at things (oh, something he has in common with Zuko!), that he specifically resents Mulan (in this case, Azula, just as Zuko does!) and is either constantly looking to defeat her and prove his superiority over her (... wait, just as Zuko with Azula??), that he has a black eye perpetually across the movie, and it's his LEFT EYE (just as Zuko's scar is on his left eye! :'D), that he's friends with a pacifist he has basically nothing in common with, personality-wise (just like Zuko and Aang!), and that he pretty much has a REDEMPTION ARC in which he goes from a bitter, asshole rival to Mulan to treating her as a friend and ally, to the point where he was disappointed to leave her behind and THEN joined her at once when she says she has a plan? :') I have always been critical of Zuko's redemption arc, goes without saying. But if ANY of these characters redeemed himself in any significant way, it certainly seems to be Yao to me, and with people gushing NON-STOP about Zuko's redemption? Why, he ought to be the character who goes from bitter rival to loyal friend, right?

So. I'm not even sorry. Zuko is Yao. And I'd dare say that he should be flattered by the comparison, even, because Yao ends up being cool as FUCK!

I don't really talk about this much nowadays, but Mulan was my favorite Disney movie growing up, it ABSOLUTELY had a formative influence on me as a little girl, and Mulan was my favorite female character for a looooong time. Thus, any excuse to rewatch this movie makes me happy as heck. With the wisdom of age I know, of course, that it's not perfect, it's not what China wants, it's not the most thoughtful depiction of Chinese culture or the most faithful adaptation of Mulan's poem (... but I'd also dare bring up that the 2009 Chinese adaptation ISN'T all that faithful either...), but it has a kind of magic in it, a solid storytelling flow, so many memorable moments one after the next, that I could hardly choose which scenes to depict... Disney has never again seen the storytelling heights it reached with Mulan in 1998. I don't even care if that's a controversial opinion in any way... this is their best animated feature for me, and nobody can change my mind.

So... depicting Azula, my beloved, in all these scenarios as this character I adored and idolized as a child, was so damn fulfilling for me. While some might think that, personality-wise, these two ladies don't have much in common, the fact that Mulan is sent to a matchmaker who basically tells her she looks good but is going to be the worst wife ever...? Our girl Azula, with all those insecurities about being unloveable and a monster, probably would relate big time to that.

Mulan is also an INTELLIGENT soldier rather than a brawny one, which is how she starts to make progress in the army, it's how she manages to overcome the huns with that avalanche... and Azula's primary difference with most other antagonists in ATLA is that she's smart as fuck. She is very strong, no doubt, but a LOT of that strength comes from her intelligence, from assessing situations in unique ways, from planning and strategizing. The way Mulan finds the most unexpected solutions that still pay off reminds me a lot of how Azula achieves unexpected feats through rather unorthodox means, capable of taking over a city with basically no bloodshed while her nation has spent 100 years trying and failing to do so through major army incursions and who knows how much senseless violence. Obviously, I'm not saying what Azula did is GOOD and it's kind of dumb that we always have to point that out... I'm merely comparing the magnitude of the feats, and the fact that they both come from ladies who use strategy and intelligence to achieve their goals rather than muscle and physical power.

And while anyone would rage at me for the comparison between Fa Zhou (her dad) and Ozai, the truth is the dynamic between them CAN be compared, if loosely: Mulan literally goes to war to keep her father safe. Azula goes to war under her father's orders. Hell, she makes herself BAIT in the Eclipse to make sure the Gaang won't get to her dad?? While it's very much possible to say that both characters have different personalities and attitudes in life... I'd also bring up that their contexts are evidently completely different. I wouldn't say for certain that Azula, had she been raised outside a Royal Family, would be EXACTLY like Mulan... but they might have more similar traits than one might expect. Ultimately, though... I love them both. And this opportunity to swap their places was pretty much a dream come true!

Alright, that was plenty of rambling xD ultimately, I had a blast doing this commission, as I'm sure is obvious by now. So! If anyone wants to commission me, feel free to check out my prices right here and hit me up if you're interested!

[quirkedupkicks]

good for you, todoroki