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jarofstyles · 4 years ago

Note

hey besties, pls do a football player Harry (soccer in case ur american lol) and physical therapist y/n !!

I know absolute shit all about football (soccer bc we are American) but we can give it a go!!! Plz don’t be mad I don’t know anything about it cause it’s ✨make believe ✨

If you like this, check out our Patreon!

—-

He was a little shit.

A beautiful, charming, irritating, little shit.

When Y/N has signed on for this team, being the medic was something she had been passionate about for years. Having her own accident and making it so she couldn’t properly play anymore, it was her mission to still be involved in the game so how. Y/N’s own injury and healing process had her become more and more interested in the profession, and here she was.

It wasn’t everything she had dreamed of, as nothing ever was, but it was good. She got to sit field-side every game, close to the action. And every injury she got first look at. She helped the guys with their stretches, their previous injuries and keeping them from Re-injuring themselves, taking care of them and making sure their physical shape was the best it could be.

In general? She was happy. But there was one man who was a thorn in her side and a pain in her crotch.

Harry Styles.

The man who decided it was his personal mission to follow her around like a puppy dog. Popping up in her singular moments of peace during game day. Texting her and asking about very, very small twists of ankles and giving her the ‘🥺 maybe you should come and look at it…’ whenever he did so.

Not to mention his complete and utter want to get into her pants.

Now it wasn’t as if she couldn’t handle a few sexual jokes. Y/N was a big girl and knew 99% of the time, the guys on the team knew their limit. And Harry? Harry, in reality, was a gentleman. Never touched her inappropriately, ever. But the problem was… she kind of wanted him to.

There was no actual clause against staff members and players being together or hooking up. Nope, just frowned upon. Maybe a slap on the wrist. However Y/N knew, she knew that the moment anyone caught wind of her potential affections for any team member or acting on it? It would end with everyone thinking she slept with them to get the job.

Y/N worked long and hard. Tireless hours for make sure these men were healthy, fit, and at their best. She wouldn’t sleep with anyone for any job, and she was actually respected by this team which was something a lot of women weren’t in this field. She could not and would not throw it away for a good dicking.

Fuck, did she want to sometimes.

—-

Harry had these hands. The perfect hands, in her opinion. Big, strong with thinner fingers. Long fingers. A good sized palm, not overly veiny, just perfection in male hand scales. Luckily (or unluckily, whatever way you’d put it) she got to handle them often.

“S’sore today, doc.” He winced, sitting on the table in front of her. Harry’s wrist throbbed. It was rainy, and it was usually a wreck when it was the perfect condition. The ache was annoying, and he knew she had a solution.

Her lips pouted softly as she gently took the hand in place, thumbing over the part of the wrist where rhe injury had occurred. She had learned a while ago where to press, how to rub and get it to lessen before she wrapped it up. “Yeah… old injuries tend to never let you forget.” She sighed, pushing her glasses up into her hair.

Harry never could get over how fucking gorgeous Y/N was. From her nose to her lips, the pretty sparkle in her eye, the curve of her hip… he was obsessed. Not to mention the fact that she was so gentle with him. So kind and sweet, though he knew he got on her nerves with his teasing sometime. She could handle it and he always tried to watch to make sure he wasn’t going too far, but he couldn’t help it.

He was a silly boy with a bit fat crush.

Y/N didn’t bite for any of them. Everyone had attempted when she first came on, testing the waters. Her pretty face was welcome to all the blokes in the team, and there was something incredibly attractive about a woman who could heal. Nonetheless, she never gave in to anything.

In Harry’s case, he knew it was different. He could see her smile at some jokes, see her get the bumps on her skin when he brushed her a certain way. But she avoided the eye contact. Avoided the touches. And it drove him mad.

Of course she wouldn’t know he had actual feelings for him because he was a giant coward most of the time. He hid his affection in the dirty jokes and the teasing squeezes of her waist and teasing. He was a thick skinned man but a full rejection form her would hurt.

Her soft fingers gently massaged over the wrist, making him groan. His head tilted back and he let it out, hissing slightly when she pressed too hard. “Oooh, don’t worry sweetheart. Y’know I like it to hurt a little.” His wide smirk made her roll her eyes huffing under her breath.

Y/N was not having a great day. She had been harassed by an Ex all fucking night over her new job. Making all the damn assumptions that she was getting ‘trained by the team’ in a much more vulgar way, and she had cried half the night. To say she wasn’t in the mood was an understatement, but she was trying.

Harry was not what she needed today, because it made her feel worse. Her blatant attraction to him made her feel guilty. She should be professional and leave it with. The way she had squeeze her legs tighter while he groaned didn’t help her case. The ugly words of how they’ only kept her around for a potential fuck’ was ringing in her head.

Harry though, he was a little oblivious. Her hands were so talented, and he didn’t watch her face for once as she hit a good spot again and he let out another remark.

“Jesus, that’s good. Do those magic hands work everywhere?”

That was the straw that broke her. It wasn’t his fault necessarily, he was just playing. But her eyes watered, hand yanking away as she turned from him, walking over to the bench. Trying to compose herself was hard as the tears burned so hard in her eyes, hands shaking slightly.

Harry startled, not used to that. She never flinched away like that, never ignored his remark and walked away. Usually told him to fuck off, rolled her eyes, something. But the energy in the room immediately shifted and he was uncomfortable. What had happened?

Cautiously, he cleared his throat and stood up from the bench, licking over his dry lips as he spoke again. “Uh… Y/N?”

“S’all I’m good for, right?” She muttered under her breath. Frantically wiping under her eyes she tried to focus on the paper in front of her but she could feel Harry approaching.

He furrowed his brow, not sure if he heard correctly. “Wha-“

Y/N whipped around fast, eyes teary and wet. “I said, that’s all I’m good for right? Only good for my hands and sex and all that pleasure you can get from me?” She hissed. “Only good for a romp in the sheets and a pretty face to heal your wounds and put on band aids. Only good to make you get off and feel good and then what? I’m left here with nothing.”

The tears left her, her hands shaking as she grabbed her bag. Harry felt his stomach drop. Never, ever had he wanted to make her feel like that. Her crying? That wasn’t something he ever wanted to see again. He felt like he had taken a ball to the gut, hard. Those eyes he adored being full of pain, full of tears was his own personal hell.

“Y/N… wait, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“ he tried to follow her to the door, stopping abruptly when she lifted a hand up to him. Her stomping had made him nervous. Now she was leaving without talking to him and he felt like a complete dick. It was their normal teasing, but he had crossed a line.

“Don’t. Just…. Just leave me alone. I’m going home.”

—-

As much as Harry had wanted to chase after her, he had already made her cry once. He wasn’t risking it again.

The icky, gross feeling in his stomach followed him all day. He was gutted. Not only has he apparently crossed a line with someone he respected, he had a fucking crush on her. The man was convinced no other feeling was worse than a crush being angry at him. Even if it sounded juvenile to place it like that.

Harry liked Y/N. He never ever wanted to make her upset in any capacity, let alone feeling like a sex object or violated. He prided himself on respecting women. And he had fucking failed. He needed to make it right, and fast.

He had found her address. In her employee file, and he knew that was bad but he needed to check on her. Regardless of what happened beforehand, she was upset by him enough to leave and go home and he wanted to make sure she was genuinely okay.

It was an overstep and Harry knew it. He had to try, though.

He arrived at her door step with a box of cupcakes and some flowers. Gently kicking the floor, he heard the door open and his heart broke a little more.

Y/N standing in front of him with swollen eyes. She had been crying, seemingly a lot. And she looked upset still. Though he expected her to close the door in his face and tell him to fuck off. But she didn’t.

Instead, she broke into tears again, throwing herself into his chest. Her arms wrapping around his waist, he nearly tumbled over but righted himself as he startled. Quickly he found himself recovering, wrapping his free arm around her and holding her. He was able to maneuver slightly and drop the cupcakes on her entry table, flowers as well before having his arms free.

“Hey…. Sweetheart, what’s the matter?” He whispered softly, gently placing a hand on her back. Rubbing it up and down, letting her cry into his tee shirt. It was worrying. Whatever happened was beyond him, but he wasn’t going to let that take away from the fact he had added and made it worse.

“I’m sorry.” Her muffled response was sobbed into his shirt. “I’m sorry for yelling… and saying you thought those things, you were playing and I…” she pulled back worth tear streaked cheeks and Harry’s look of pure concern making her lip wobble. “You didn’t do it. It was… he kept sayin’ that all the team wants is in my pants, and you make me feel guilty because you’re so…. Beautiful, and I never slept with anyone to get this job! Never. And then he wouldn’t leave me alone-“ she hiccuped, looking up at Harry as he caressed the back of her head.

“Who, lovely? Who wouldn’t leave you alone?” He asked with a calm tone. Of course he wasn’t. Someone was harassing her. And Harry would fucking take care of it. It boiled his blood to think of someone making her feel less than.

“My ex.” She sniffled again, slowly calming. Harry had that quality, she thinks. “He-He broke up with me for taking the job. Said… said that I was going to be a personal whore for all of you. And not do my job.” She took a shuddery breath. It was embarrassing admitting this to him, but he had been on the receiving end for a meltdown that wasn’t his to fix.

“Well, can I tell you something?” He brought his thumb up to wipe away some of the sticky tears from her cheeks. “You arent. You’re no one’s whore. You’re a respected, talented and intelligent member of our staff. You so happen to be incredibly beautiful, which obviously makes people find you more bewitching… but I know that we all look at you as a professional talent. They may have tried their luck at the beginning but you laid down the law quickly and they all understood.” He whispered.

“Me? I was trying my luck, because you’re incredible. And I think you’re lovely. But that isn’t a conversation for now. Let’s make some tea, hm? Relax. I brought you some cupcakes. I need to properly apologize for being inappropriate to you. Regardless if it was a joke…”

—

He sat next to her on her couch. The poor girl was better now, washing her face and a mug of tea in hand while Harry had helped himself to a vase and put the flowers inside. Carnations. He thought they were pretty, didn’t know the name until Y/N had fawned over them.

“I’m sorry for freaking out on you.” She said softly, her big sweatshirt swallowing her up. Before Harry could interrupt, she put a finger up. “I know that you were just playing, Harry. I let you flirt with me like that. And I enjoy it.” She could feel herself get warm in the face. “If you’ve noticed, I let you get away with it. I enjoy it. And you didn’t do anything out of line. I was sensitive… I was still raw and I hadn’t had much sleep because he had blown up my phone and regardless he was telling me things he said in person over and over again. So…” Y/N shifted in her seat and used her sweater paws to bring the drink to her lips. “When you came in… I felt guilty for finding you attractive. For liking what you said to me.”

Harry sat for a moment, quiet. So she had liked it…. And felt guilty. Now knowing the context? It made sense. For the life of him he was trying not to hold in to the fact that she enjoyed it, but he couldn’t. It made him excited.

“Okay. That makes sense. Usually.. I do a better job at reading your physical cues. Sometimes I can see something isn’t the right thing to say because you’re tense already. But I was in my own world cause you were making the pain go away and I felt good. It isn’t an excuse, though.” He gently grabbed her hand once she set down her warm tee, thumbing over the knuckles.

“I felt like such a dick. I still do. You know that? And it isn’t because I’m attracted to you. But it’s because I didn’t think about the position I’m putting you in by flirting.” He moved a little closer. “I would never try and jeopardize your job. I’ve been blinded by my own feelings for a while and I was trying to feel it out but I didn’t think to think it was because someone else or a group of people would look down at you for it.” He frowned.

It was so unfair. They wouldn’t care if he slept with her. But they’d ridicule her for sleeping with him.

“I just want to let you know now as well… I wasn’t trying to come on to you to have a hookup.” He hummed. “The feelings I’ve got are genuine. Alright? They aren’t just too get into your pants. And I never want you to feel as though that’s your only purpose. Ever. You have so much worth, and while I’m positive you don’t need me to tell you that, I want tok anyways.”

He was unreal. She really thinks so. How did a man just… be like him. He was a fan favorite and had charm but behind the scenes he was even better than anything they said.

“Yeah. I think I was afraid. Because… I’m the same, you know?” She shyly admitted. “You’re charming and I didn’t want to admit I let your charm get to me, but it has. It has very much. And I like you. I don’t know what to do about it, but I think it’s only fair I admit it myself as well when you’ve put yourself out on the line.”

Harry’s grin grew, dimples pocketing in his cheeks. She liked him back. His heart was ringing in his ears, the shy little look into her eyes making him want to explode. Fucking adorable girl making him feel such intense emotions…. It was incredible.

Thank god. He thought he was going insane.

“We don’t have to do anything in the sense of our job right now. But since we both know… would you want to explore it? I would say privately. Just get to know each other better. Talk. Hang out. Cook food together… maybe kiss.” He smirked slightly at the end, making her let out a laugh. Her laugh soothed his Damn soul.

“I think I’d like that.”

——

Part II maybe? Who knows

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littledreamybeth · 4 years ago

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Daddy ignores me

A/N: Another part of the “Secret Child” series! Not really proof read!

“MUMMY!” The sudden shrill cry of her little son pervading the quietness of their idyllic home almost caused Y/N to drop the white porcelain plate of her new tableware onto the kitchen’s granite floor. She immediately put it aside, but before she could even rush to see after him, the young boy had already beat her to it. And the picture presented in front of her simply pierced daggers through her delicate mummy heart. Big fat teardrops were flowing down Robin’s apple cheeks, uncontrollable agonized sobs wrecking his tiny body, and he looked at his mother as if she were the last person who could help him. Y/N couldn’t recall seeing him this dejected over something. With worry consuming her mind, she crouched down on his eye level, inspecting him from head to toe to find out whether he had hurt himself. But as she was going to find out later, her baby boy was dealing with emotional rather than physical pain.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Y/N cooed, opening her arms, and inviting him into her embrace. Robin nuzzled his face into the crook of his mother’s neck and clutched her shirt with intensity, seeking for her comfort. Running her hand up and down his back, the young mother waited until her son had somewhat calmed down.

“Daddy doesn’t talk to me,” Robin sniffed, lowering his tiny head in defeat.

Baffled at his answer, Y/N replied, “He won’t what? Why is that?”

Her firstborn shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, mummy. I don’t know what I did that he’s upset with me. He would play with Ella and Mila the entire time, but shoo me away when I want to join them. And when I ask why he doesn’t let me play, he doesn’t answer and turns his back towards me.” Another flow of tears was brimming his green eyes as he started to hiccup. “It makes me sad.”

“Oh my poor baby boy!” His mother pressed him lovingly against her chest, tangling her fingers into his hair.

It surprised her immensely to hear that Harry was upset over something their son apparently had done that it was enough to punish the little boy with disregard and indifference. Her partner and son rarely argued with each other because they loved and cherished each other with such intensity- they both worshipped the ground that the other one walked on. Of course, Robin did some things Harry got angry with, however, he would forgive him once Robin apologized and then everything was forgiven and forgotten. She was just as confused as the boy in front of her, who had no idea of where he was at fault. She wondered about the reason behind Harry’s behavior.

“Daddy doesn’t love me anymore…” Robin mumbled, causing his mother to shake her head in denial.

“You know that is not true, m’love. Don’t you ever think like that. Daddy loves you with his entire heart. You’re his pride, his big buddy, hm?” She smothered his face with affectionate kisses, eliciting a giggle out of his rosy lips. “Why don’t you tell me what you guys did before daddy stopped talking to you?”

Robin put his finger on his lower lip, his brain recapping the last happy interaction he had with his father. “We were playing cardboard games,” he answered then. “He hasn’t talked to me ever since we finished.”

Knowing were this was going to lead, Y/N still pushed her son to continue. She already had her suspicions as to why Harry refused to acknowledge Robin.

“How many rounds did you play, honey?”

Robin pointed the number three with his fingers into the air. “Three times.”

“May I ask who won?”

A proud expression flashed over his features. “Me. All rounds.”

Y/N scoffed. She genuinely wanted to slap her partner in that moment, her hand was itching terribly to make contact with his cheek. If there was something that everybody knew about Harry, then it was his competitive nature and his strong will to win when it came to games. Nobody took games as seriously as Harry did. Losing against his own child had probably hurt his stupid ego. No wonder he behaved like this towards a child, who went to kindergarten. The young mother sighed. Not that she had enough to deal with, nope, now she had to handle a man child.

“I think I know what the problem is. Come on. Let’s have a word with daddy.” Y/N picked the little boy up and steadied him on her hip, then making her way to search for her lover. Ascending the stairs, she heard some noises coming from the girls’ nursery, so she steered directly towards it.

She halted in front of the door, gesturing Robin to be quiet and through the slight door gap, she observed what the young father was doing with his daughters. Harry was sat on the ground while the girls were placed on top of their playmat. Their toys were scattered into different directions. Harry’s voice rang through her ears.

“You can do it baby girl! Just a little bit more!” Harry cheered Ella on, who had grabbed onto the musician’s fingers and tried to lift her body from the ground with his help. Her twin minded her own business by playing with her stuffed animals, babbling uncoherent sounds. Ella finally managed to stand on her legs, earning lots of praises from her father. Although Y/N didn’t want to disrupt their interaction, she had a problem to solve.

Therefore, she entered the nursery.

“Harry Edward Styles!” Her voice boomed through the living room, making Ella plop down on her little bum and grabbing the other twin’s attention also, who started to wail. “Don’t tell me you’re ignoring your child just because he beat you at a game!” The smile that had adorned Harry’s face vanished from his lips.

She pointed at Robin, who had hidden his face on her shoulder, avoiding eye contact with his daddy.

“What are you, five?” she reprimanded him, “This is ridiculous. Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

Harry only shrugged his shoulders, reaching for Mila, who seemed to sense the tension in the room and hence became restless. He picked her up and made silly faces to soothe her.

“Jesus Christ, Harry. Would you please look at me or rather your son, who thinks you don’t love him anymore because you refuse to talk to him? Because you lost a game? What the hell is wrong with you?” Slight anger was boiling in the pit of her stomach, even more when she felt Robin’s tiny body trembling against hers.

According to the British man’s reaction, Y/N knew she stroke a particular nerve. “What do you think you were doing, Harry?” she asked, “You can act like this towards somebody else but not your son. Get your shit together, will ya?”

“I wanted to win…” She heard him mumble under his breath, “One game, okay. But all three? It’s not fair.”

Y/N retorted, “You know what’s not fair? The way you treat Robin! You hurt his feelings. Now, apologize!”

“But-“

“I said apologize! And don’t you dare to ignore my boy again, you hear me? Is a stupid game more important than your family? One more time and you can search another place to live your life.” Okay, the last statement was a bit exaggerating but at least it worked. Fear appeared in his eyes and he immediately rose from the ground, walking towards them. If there was somebody who could threaten him with his family, then it was the one and only woman her loved.

“Hey buddy,” Harry murmured sheepishly after Y/N had handed the boy over, watching them sternly with her arms crossed over her chest. “I’m sorry I was mad at you for stupid reasons and made you feel like I don’t love you. I’m not going to do it again, I promise.”

Robin glanced at his father with glossy eyes and pledged, “I won’t play any games with you anymore. You were being a meanie. And I don’t like meanies.”

“Fair enough,” Harry chuckled, kissing his temple.

“Have we come back to our senses?” The young mother questioned.

“Yes, madam!”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fics #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n

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xo-cuteplosion-xo · 4 years ago

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Asorted ADA x Reader | The "happy" friend

BSD misc. Reader insert

Warnings- mentions of suicidal thoughts. Mentions of Verbal and mild physical abuse.

The happy co-worker, happy friend, happy ex, happy girlfriend. No matter what you pushed it on to yourself. So many of your peers had it worse. Look at Dazai, he manages to smile and joke despite his pain. You thought you could do it too. So, that’s what you did. Since you joined the agency. You never let them see you break down. They never got to see you cry. They never got to see you under anything but happy. Even if you were annoyed, you held onto your smile. There were so many orphans among your mighty crew of detectives. The ones you were the closest to, you confirmed them to be orphans from a young age. Dazai, parentless at 14. He may have been an orphan for even longer than that. You just know he didn’t have any at 14. Then there was Atsushi, who had lived his whole childhood abused in an orphanage. Kyoka, she lost her parents to her ability. The others you were not too sure about, but the sneaking suspicion this organization was full of gifted orphans, was high.

Then there was you. A girl, no older than Dazai. Not the best looking, at least that’s what you told yourself. The others had no idea about your insecurities regarding your body. Maybe you were too tall, too short, too thin, too fat. Some days were better than others. Some days the situation flipped. There was always something you could nit-pick about yourself. Your mind wandered constantly back to the words of your parents. “Not skinny enough, too skinny. Not fit enough, but don’t be too fit. Men don’t like to be threatened.” you had parents. Maybe they weren't the best but you had parents. They were a bit abusive with words but never had they placed a finger on you. Well, there were a few times but it was normal right? For a parent to lose their cool and lash out once or twice, maybe even a handful of times over the years. They judged you for your choice of occupation and the people you hung around. They called you out on outfits and the way you acted. That’s why you were here now. Far from them, but their words still haunted you. In truth, you feared them but wanted their approval.

Today, you stood with your coworkers finishing up the latest job. You hummed in your outfit. It covered your arms, which you already bandaged but wanted to keep that a secret. The things you did to keep this false joy were extreme. The things you took in impacted your state. Listening to Atsushi, holding Kyoka when she broke down. Hell, you were even there to scold Dazai and occasionally listen to his drunk words. The tales of how much he had suffered broke you. Even Kunikida learned to confide in you. He would tell you about his stress, and the pain he felt about past mistakes that resulted in his ideals being missed or broken. There was nobody in the agency who didn’t trust you with their problems. To them, you had none. They were okay with talking to you. They felt better after talking to you. That’s how it worked.

Biting the inside of your cheek, your feet moved to Kunikida. You knew he’d want to talk about this one. He hated seeing people killed before his eyes. He’d already nearly beaten Dazai for letting the boy die. Atsushi was off in the corner, fidgeting around with the tight atmosphere. You had arrived a little too late to prevent the death of the kidnapped child. Things like this happened, mistakes were bound to happen but… they had larger effects on some than they did on others. Dazai was facing the wall, his hands in fists. His head against the wall. You could tell he was blaming himself. Atsushi just felt awkward being here. “Kunikida?” you whispered trying to keep a joyful yet soft tone to your voice. Your hand reached out to tap his shoulder only for him to slap it away with a heavy glare.

“How can you smile like that? Somebody died in front of us and all you do is smile! You're always smiling no matter what happens! Do you even understand what’s going on right now? We failed (Y/n). Do you need somebody to explain to you what you should be doing right now?” his voice kept raising pitch by pitch. It sent flashes along your eyes. The way your father's voice would start soft and gradually get louder by the second, until he slammed a fist against the wall and screamed at you. Those yells always ended in the verbal assault. The comments on your form, the comments on your social life, and the useless degrees and jobs you had.

The wince you suppressed went unnoticed. The shaking of your hands is easily hidden behind you. Hands clasped together as your eyes trailed Kunikida. His body stood towering over you. Heavily glaring as he turned away. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” you tilted your head to play this off with a smile.

It was no help to your situation. He pushed past you, heading for the building exit he froze in the doorway. “We have to go tell a parent we failed to save a child's life. Do you understand how hard that is for a parent? How could I be alright? How can any of us be alright?” he was one step from overfilling your glass. The cracks forming were starting to show. Your eyes unable to meet his eyes. “You can be heartless and an idiot at times. Smiling in the presence of death.” there it was, the same words you had gotten at your grandmother's funeral. You’d tried to stay strong for your mother. You only knew how to smile. You knew no other way of staying strong. Hearing it from a friend sent you into overdrive.

“Shut up.” you hissed through clenched teeth.

This time Atsushi seemed to join in. shocked by your sudden negativity. He had never seen you like this. None of them had ever seen you drop a smile. “Are you mad?” Atsushi asked before you shook it off and smiled.

“Huh? Of course not! I'm just as normal as ever! I don’t know what you mean? Did I seem mad? Sorry, guess I just let that slip. I meant to say you shouldn’t assume I'm heartless, just cause I'm still… happy! I feel the pain you guys feel over this! I just think we should move over this!” giving a closed smile, Kunikida's raised voice washed over the room again.

“Move past?! We could have saved them if we had been a bit faster in getting here! The kid wasn’t supposed to die! Stop smiling and grasp the situation! Stop being insensitive to your acting just like Dazai does sometimes!” Were you that bad? Was it really that bad to just want to stay happy? “You have everything perfect, you can’t even grasp the situation!” you couldn’t do this anymore. His words were starting to turn from accusations to frustration. He was taking his pain out on you. Instead of doing it in the kind form he normally used, he was using anger to express how hurt he was right now.

Unable to take any more of the words he spat, you dropped it all. His words were getting on the triggering side. The words he spat slowly started to inch closer and closer to your parents' words. Words that made you have to act like this. “I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered trying to keep your tears locked inside. It was useless though. The container shattered as his words brushed by your ears. Faded and fuzzy, the world drifted away. You were pulled back into the world by a brunette. His slender hands shaking your shoulders. You shoved him away glaring.

“Woah, she’s pissed,” Atsushi whispered before you shook your head looking at the ceiling, you smiled.

“No Atsushi, I'm sad, for lack of a better word. I want to walk up the stairs of a very tall building and dive into nothingness. I want to lay down with a bottle of whiskey and drink myself into sweet relief. I want to look in the mirror and like the way I look. I want to walk to my parents with the courage to tell them I'm perfect no matter what I look like. I want to tell them that what I do for a living makes me strong. I want to have the strength to shout and tell them I don't need a man to dictate my life. I want to scream at them that the only man I want is a man who isn’t afraid of a fierce, strong, and independent woman.” the words fell from your lips as your tears fell. They fell through your smile. The happy look stuck to your face.

“(y/n)...” Kunikida started before you chuckled, closing his sentence off.

“Aren't I just perfect? I hate my body, I hate my personality. I hate everything about myself. I hate my gift, nobody would like the real me. Nobody knows the real me. Hell, I don't even know the real me. I am nothing without my smile. But… it's okay as long as I can keep smiling! I can just fake it until it's real. I fooled all of you, didn’t I? I really seemed happy! Even I was starting to think I was! But then, I get home, look in the mirror, and all I can see is a useless shell.” your voice stopped before you were wrapped in bandaged arms. Those arms ran over your back to pull at your arms. Concerned hazel brushing skilled tender fingers under the cloth of your sleeves. Those fingers dancing over the white cloth. His hair falling over his now darkened eyes.

“You too…” he whispered just as you yanked away your arms and held them, still keeping a smile.

Of course, he had to lift your spirits just a bit. So, as you looked away unable to meet his gaze, he got to one knee and pulled your hand to him with a smirk. Kunikida facepalmed realizing the words the brunette would spout next. “Dazai, this was a crime scene. Are you seriously going to… I'm going to kill you!” he shouted stomping over to you two.

Dazai’s eyes met yours as he put his playful smile on. “Would you commit a double suicide with me~?” he hummed before being shoved into a wall. “Kunikidaaaaa! Why would you do something so cruel?!” he dramatically put a hand over his chest and his other hand on his forehead. Kunikida clicked his tongue, turning to you. His eyes reflected only guilt, as if your outburst had been all his fault. Even if you had been dying to talk to somebody about the crumbling emotions for months.

“I’ll think about it, Dazai-san!” you playfully responded to his request. For a moment you truly did feel a flutter of joy.

“I swear if you start doing his habits, I will add to your paperwork!” the worst kind of threat. A threat that made both you and Dazai cringe but chuckle.

“We should get going.” you hummed looking up to the ceiling again. “We do have a family to comfort.” Everybody fell serious and nodded.

#bsd x reader #armed detective agency #x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #fluffy angst

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static-fanatic-1 · 4 years ago

Text

Chrollo + Phantom Troupe Teaser

Word Count: 5.2k

(Teaser my ass, holy shit this is going to be a long one)

Name: (y/n) Kurta

Nen Type: Conjurer

Nen Ability: Terracotta gauntlets with a lion head on top of the hand. The lion head can detach from the clawed gauntlets and act as physics-defying grappling hooks.

Example of Ability: You can use the grappling hooks to grab and throw whatever is caught, this can include people or other large objects. It will feel fairly weightless.

| Part 2 |

~~~

You remember the day perfectly, it was humid and moist, yet just cool enough to stop you from sweating. You had on your usual Kurta garb, purple and yellow with symbols and designs in honor of your heritage. You stayed home that day, being two months pregnant with your future child made your father worry too much.

You were barely showing at this point, but he still kept you home despite your line of work. You were a protector of sorts, a guard to your clan, keeping everyone protected as well as leaving to explore the world and bring back new things. You enjoyed your job, but your sweet old man didn't want you to over exert yourself.

"When you leave again you'll have to bring your secret lover." Your father would constantly start. "I bet he's a gentleman considering what your mother taught you." A fatherly smile gleaming over his wrinkling features. "If he runs off I'll hunt him down and strap him to our dinner table." He would joke.

You would lightly scold your father, knowing he would surely follow his words. "Stop. Keep acting like that and you'll chase him away."

You sighed at the fond memories, glancing out the window of the kitchen to watch the bright sun set below the horizon line. Deep purples and rich oranges decorated the clouds in a comforting glow. Another color, rich and warm, too warm, littered the skies. Coal black smoke rose above the tree tops and covered the beautiful sky in a suffocating cloak.

A lump got caught in your throat at the sight, you knew the colors and smoke anywhere, the burning trash of Meteor City making it a familiar sight. The smell too, burning your nostrils and making you cringe further confirmed what was happening.

Fire. Burning, raging fire was engulfing the village and eating it whole. Screams and cries for help filled the air as buildings crumpled into the ground. That was your call to action, you jumped out of your window and summoned up your nen, claws outstretched and prepared to slice any unknown mother fucker you could find.

You found one, a dark silhouette in the night with a slim build and intense pink aura coming from their hands. It felt familiar, the aura, but you didn't pay it any mind before shooting out the lion head on your gauntlets.

With chattering teeth they by harshly into the figure's forearms, dragging them across the floor and above your head into a burning building behind you. You cried and quickly jumped on the figure, slicing at their chest. Large, long gashes oozed out buckets of blood, and you quickly silenced the figure's cries with a even deeper gash to the throat... their head now hanging by a thin thread of flesh.

The blood that coated your nen gauntlets were nothing compared to the crimson that flooded your eyes. You would slaughter anyone that was not a clan member, you swore on that. Looking around your red tinted gaze fell upon the horrors caused by the raiders.

Bodies, bloodied and broken beyond recognition littered the ground. You wobbled over to one of them, barely making out who it was, an elderly woman you could almost call a grandmother. Her wrinkled features were slack and littered with blood, but the empty, oozing sockets where her eyes should be haunted your nightmares. You wailed louder than the dying screams, fat tears streaming down your cheeks and landing in the empty holes.

"Papa!" You shrieked, stumbling up off the ground and rushing further into the carnage. Your legs barely kept up as you rushed past the fire ridden village. "PAPA!" You screeched into the crackling night.

You paused, breath caught in your throat making you choke on the smoke. There was a silhouette shrouded by ash and darkness and flames, a distinguishable fur coat lining its figure. You gagged at the smoke, hiding behind a broken building to listen to the mumbling figure.

"Has anyone found her?" A smooth, honey like voice echoed past the dying screams.

Chrollo? Wha-? What's going on?! You stumbled on a piece of debris, tripling and falling onto a warm, bloodied corpse. You gave out a strained whimper, almost a shriek, as you tried to collect yourself and run away.

You could hear him behind you, you could almost feel him behind you. His nen spilled from his pores and surrounded you in a suffocating hold. You quietly gagged, hand over your mouth as you held back the bile rising in your throat. Tears pricked the edges of your eyes, blurring your vision with smoke and tears.

~~~

You bit your bottom lip, whipping your hair over your shoulder and staring at the man across from you. He was large, muscles bulging through the thin black shirt he wore, yet he was no where near strong enough to take you down. Theoretically, the only person out of this year's batch of hunters that could possibly stand against you was yourself and that clown whom got his ass kicked out for attacking one of the wardens. This guy was no where near your level, you couldn't even sense any nen.

"What's wrong little girl?" He spat, crouching down and preparing to bulldoze you. "Shaking in your boots?"

You narrowed your eyes with a scowl, scoffing and looking at the chairman across the plaza. "Hardly."

The large man growled and dashed with his arms out stretched. Typical. You jumped high into the air and twisted around, your leg coming back down on his thick skull. Your foot clashed against the crown of his head and shoved his face into the ground, bringing him to a dead stop. Jumping back to the ground you inspected the damage, the floor was cracked and you could barely see his head past the new hole in the ground. The man wasn't moving, you knocked him out.

There was some clapping from the end of the plaza, shoes clacking against tile as he wondered closer. His steel grey eyes trailed down to your chest as he neared, old perv. "I'm a little disappointed." He mused, looking back up to meet your stern gaze. "I thought he would have a better chance against you. Though, it's always a treat to see a first timer beat the Hunter Exam."

You lightly smiled at the praise, a small memory of your father coming into mind. "I appreciate it."

Netero grinned at your words, but it slightly faltered when he glanced back at the designs of your clothes. "So, what hunter are you aiming to be?" He started as he shuffled through his clothes.

"Bounty Hunter, there are a few people I want to find."

"The Phantom Troupe, hm? I can't blame you, they have done some pretty horrible things."

You glanced over at the old man, your gaze being met with a knowing expression and a Hunter License. "Thanks...." You warily replied, taking hold of your new license. It should serve you well, you hoped.

A few hours later you wondered into the fancy hotel you were staying at. A few strangers glanced at you with a disgusted look, you couldn't blame them as you were still covered in dirt, leaves and a few splotches of blood. A tired sigh escaped your lips once you finally got to your room, taking the card and swiping it you entered with a delicate smile. "Kurapika! (S/n)! Where are you guys?"

A tuft of blond hair wizzes past the corner of the small living room. Dark grey eyes quickly following and staring back at you with a disgruntled expression. "Your son is a handful." Spat Kurapika.

Behind him a small, pale skinned figure peeked behind the corner, a cheeky grin plastered on his chubby face. "Momma!" He screeched, rushing over and running into your waiting arms.

You gave him a kiss on his forehead, using your hand to push away his fluffy raven hair. "Pretty sure you were the handful Kurapika, no way this little angel was was trouble."

Kurapika slightly smiled, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "Only when you are around, anyway, how did it go?"

You sighed and sat on the marble flooring. "It was really easy, but I've had the training for it to be easy. You will probably have a hard time, especially if that clown shows up again." You mumbled the last part, moving to the kitchen to grab you a snack, you were starving.

"Then teach me the "magic" you claim to know."

"I wanna see magic! Momma can you teach me too?" You took a big bite out of your snack, giving a glare to both of the kids.

"Sorry squirt, when you get older I'll teach you."

Kurapika furrowed his brows. "You keep telling me that if I pass the hunter exam you'll teach me."

"Change of plans-"

"Change of plans?! What do you mean change of plans? I still don't understand why you won't teach me this "magic" you keep talking about! I would be strong enough to fight the Phantom-"

"Kurapika." You sternly glared in his direction, the look in your eyes forcing everyone to quite down. "You know I don't want you to even get involved with this. Besides the change of plans isn't that bad, I want you to figure out this "magic" thing yourself and return when you are ready. I still want to teach you, but I don't want you to get killed in the process.

"I have a plan to find and hunt down the Troupe, but it will take time. If you aren't ready by the time I am, you will not be permitted to help. Instead you will stay somewhere safe and take care of (s/n) for me."

Kurpaika's dark grey eyes stared into the back of your head and burned holes into your skull. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, yes I am. Even if you learn this "magic" there is no telling how powerful you will become. Even with years and years of rigorous training like myself, I won't stand a chance against more than two of them at a time." You kept your stance, standing tall above the blond you called a little brother. "I don't want to see you get hurt, Kurapika. I can't see you get hurt."

Your son waddled over to your tense form and wrapped his shirt arms around your thighs. "He won't get hurt momma, I'll make sure of it!" A beaming smile did it's best to comfort you.

"I know you will, (s/n)." You turned your attention back to the blond, giving him a stern stare that told him you meant what you said. "I want to protect him too."

Kurapika growled, you knew how important finding and slaughtering the Troupe was to him, so why make it so difficult? Wouldn't it be easier to teach him and make him stronger so the both of you can fight?

You looked away from the blond as he stormed into one of the off rooms, you knew what he was thinking, but that wouldn't change your mind. You blamed yourself for your clan's slaughter and you wouldn't be able to live if he was to die too. You didn't want him to get involved in our own affairs, especially when they were so dangerous.

"Momma," You glanced down at the head of fluffy black hair still clinging to your legs. "Why do you and Uncle Kurapika argue so much? Who is this Phantom Troupe?" His chuffs cheeks puffed out, his brows furrowing in thought.

"(S/n)... it's a long story. One you aren't old enough to hear I'm afraid." You leaned down, picked him up, and rubbed your nose to his own rosy one. "Till then I'll keep you safe."

"From the Troupe?"

You glanced away form his coal black eyes, the painful memories a bit too much to handle at the moment. "From monsters that want to hurt you." You planted a kiss on his forehead, wiping away some of the scars burned into your mind.

~~~

You were going to strangle that boy when you find him. With gritted teeth and blazing eyes, you haven't been this pissed off in years. You stomped over to the glass window of the hotel room your all too kind employer provided.

You gave him simple instructions, go off and figure out the basics of "magic", and then return for more training. It was supposed to be a test for the rebellious teen.

That's what it was supposed to be. Instead, he decided he had enough of you and left to find the Troupe on his own, leaving your precious son to be alone in a secure hotel room while you worked. You might just kill Kurapika next time you see him.

You fanned down the small wrinkles on your slim dress, straightening out the slit that trailed to your thigh. It was black and long enough to trail behind your tall heels. Around your neck was a pearl necklace and a fur scarf hanging on your shoulders. Your hair was curled and allowed to flow freely behind you. You also had some pearl earrings and a pearl bracelet.

Swiping the last of your lipstick on, pursing your lips and giving them a little smack before turning to the small child on the couch. His eyes were glued to a puzzle he decided was more interesting than the television. "(S/n), I'm going to have to go in a minute. You'll be fine right?"

Doe eyes glanced back at you, a puzzle piece tightly held in his hands. "I'll be fine!"

"You remember the rules right?"

"No leaving without you or Kurapika, don't answer the door unless it is you or Kurapika, make sure I call you if something is wrong or when I go to bed,-"

"I get it." You waved a hand in his face, a gentle smile etched onto your painted lips. "My smart little boy remembers everything."

He nodded, leaning into the backside of the couch to wrangle you into a hug. "Come back soon!"

"I will, don't worry. Love you."

"Love you too."

You were off, leaving and meeting with your employer at his hotel before making your way to a dinner with a few high end Mafia men. You quickly met up with the man, he was a son to one of the ten dons and hired you as both a body guard and a rental girlfriend. A little demeaning in your eyes but anything to get close to your targets.

"You look stunning." Mentioned the man, his arm linking with your own. He was a handsome man, that was obvious, a real charmer too. With chocolate brown hair slicked back and bright green eyes you could stare at for an eternity. He was broad shouldered and muscular underneath his crisp dark grey suit, a pale yellow under shirt and a maroon tie adding to his attractiveness. The poor flirt would be dead if you outwardly admitted that though.

"Likewise." Your hand placed itself on top his forearm, letting him guide you to the fancy limousine he had for the two of you.

You decided conversation would be the best thing at the moment, as getting to know a man you are supposed to temporarily date would be best for the illusion. "Where are we going to meet your father?"

"Ah, a nice restaurant just a few blocks uptown from the auction site." He directed his head to take your facial features in. "They have the best steak I've ever had, amazing garlic butter."

You were beyond tense, but a relaxed smile crept onto your lips. "I just might have to try that. Who else is coming?"

"My father's friends, one is another don, and my two other brothers. I wouldn't worry though, they might ask you a few questions but I would just let me do the talking." He gave you a kind smile, turning back to the driver and telling him the name of the restaurant.

"I don't mean to be rude, but if anything happens I'll have to leave and take care of it."

"Oh! I know, they know. My family actually told me to, uh, rent a girlfriend for the auction days." He ran a hand through his chocolate locks, a sigh escaping his lips and he relaxed in his chair. "Rumor has it that something bad might happen during this auction. Something about sleeping? Like death."

"If that's the case, then I might have to take an early leave."

He gave you a cocky grin. "Just tell me what's happening outside the restaurant, I'm curious about what kind of stuff a hunter gets into."

You returned his gaze, finally relaxing just a bit more. "I'll make sure to keep you posted."

"Sir," alerted the driver. "We're here."

"Good! Let's get something to eat, shall we?"

You nodded, sliding your dress to the side to exit the vehicle. "Oh! Please, don't make me look bad." He jested, quickly shuffling to your side to open the door. "I'll embarrass myself in front of my dad."

"About that, I never introduced myself did I? My name is (y/n)."

He gave a dopey grin. "Right, I'm Jason, it probably would be a good idea to know each other's names, huh? Well, let's go before my dad thinks we are doing something suggestive." He winked and held out his arm for you to take, in which you did with a small scoff.

The two of you walked into the restaurant, a grand archway with a fancy chandelier lighting up the entire entrance with a warm glow. Black marble coated the floor with a glossy reflection, and your heels clicked against them with an elegant sway of your dress.

A man stood at the enterence, another shorter version of Jason. "Ah, Jason! How've you been?" He glanced over at you and gave a devilish grin. "Wow, what a catch. Maybe she'll decide to stay?"

The new stranger sauntered over, a shoulder being wrapped around your shoulders. "If he isn't your type I'm always available. Jackson, by the way." He whispered in your ear with a raspy tone.

"Ignore him," Jason mumbled to you, his cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment, "He's always like this with any human of the female gender."

Humor yourself, or let the poor man walk away with some of his dignity intact? Nah, if you were going to give some of your dignity with these men you might as well have some fun. "You poor thing," You began, turning with a gentle smile to the brother. "Can't keep it in his pants, hmm?" You softly patted the fluffy hair on his head and pouted, shuffling out of his grip and wrapping your arm back with Jason. "Better luck next time." You retorted with a little wave.

With his breath caught in his throat, he coughed and turned to the direction of where their table was. "The tables this way, dad's already there." His mumbling quieted down as he led the way.

Jason turned to you, kept in a laugh, and shrugged. The restaurant was warm along with the cozy glow of the chandeliers hanging from the tall roof. There were many tables, black with cushioned chairs and blazing candles.

Your eyes zeroed on the candles, the beautifully dangerous flame causing you to start sweating. You gulped down the lump in your throat and forced yourself to relax your tensing limbs. 'It's just a small flame, nothing to be afraid of.' You scolded yourself.

The two of you wondered into a private room in the back. There was a large, round, black table in the center of the room, a few couches on the walls with side tables. There were a few candles in the center along with a crystal vase filled with blood red roses. As much as you loved the roses, they reminded you of him.

To distract yourself you glanced around the room, the father and Jackson were conversing, the other son sitting and listening. Jackson pointed in your direction, a sly smirk on his face.

Jason leaned in. "That's my dad," he pointed over to one of the other walls near the couch. A man was leaning on the side, his crisp suit wrinkling with his crossed legs. He had a beard, small but neat, with deep blue eyes and tan flesh. "That is Manchile, he's the Don I was talking about."

There were a few other notable people, but when Jason and you entered the entire room lightened up. The father stood and sauntered over, a sleazy smile gracing his gruff features. "I hope Jason didn't make a move on you?" He extended his hand, slightly calloused from use, but large and warm.

You took it with a gentle smile, time to suck up your pride and be a darling. "I wouldn't worry about him, he's quite the gentleman." Your hand was in worse shape than his, more rough, and must have noticed. The father's face changed into one of surprise and respect. "I'd watch out for that one though." You pointed to Jackson, the man lightly scoffing with a grin.

"Will do." He said with a chuckle.

Manchile joined the table, a few of his men sitting down too. "I'm starved, let's eat."

"Sure thing." The father returned his attention to Jason and you. "Ladies first."

The table was filled, and you ended up being sandwiched between Jason and Manchile. Your eyes would periodically go back to the candles in front of you, and all you could do was twist a small bit of your dress skirt to calm your nerves. You all ordered, and you took your date's advice with the steak.

As you were waiting, the unknown brother, leaned in and gave you a curious smile. "So, a hunter huh? I've never met one, what's it like?"

All eyes were on you now, and you relaxed with the distraction. "It's dangerous work... but if you were trained correctly then it is worth it. Plenty of benefits as long as you hunt something."

"Who trained you?" His green eyes gleamed begins his thin glasses. "Sorry if I'm prying, just curious."

"I don't mind. I trained myself. I've always wanted to become a hunter."

"Really? Ooh, what about the test? I've heard it's impossible!"

You slightly smiled, Manchile leaning in and joining the conversation. "Some of my men are hunters, they talked about fighting each other and impossible puzzles. My best man had to find the damned test four times before he made it."

You cocked an eyebrow. "Well he's not wrong. All the tests are different but we did have to fight each other. There were some puzzles but I didn't think they were that difficult...." You locked your lipstick and took a sip of your water, keeping your posture and chin held high. "Four times huh? I got my license on my first try."

Manchile cackled in his water cup. "Really? You make my best look like babies." The waiter returned with a large bottle of red wine and began to pour it to everyone who wanted some. You declined, drinking on the job wouldn't bid well if something happened. "Next your going to say you could win against one of the beasts."

You stayed silent, doing your best to keep your smile hidden behind your glass of water. Jason peeked over and noticed your curled lips. "No way, seriously?"

"Not sure, never tried." You commented, giving him a cocky side eye. "But probably."

It was the father's turn to laugh, Jackson joining in with some bread in his hands. "Come on, no one's stronger than the beasts. You've got to be crazy."

The father butted in with a joke. "You're a bounty hunter right? You didn't come here to take us out, hmm?"

"No, no, that'd be bad for business. I'm actually after the Phantom Troupe." The table quieted down, so you continued. "Rumor has it some people will 'sleep' tonight, take that as you will, I'm just here for security purposes. More or less."

Manchile waved over a waiter and asked for another bottle before asking some more questions. "You think they will attack? What makes you think they are crazy enough to challenge the mafia?"

"Well, I will admit I don't have proof, but it would be a missed opportunity. I mean if people are going to 'sleep' then the only criminals crazy enough to try anything would be the Troupe. They are also strong enough to do so. I guess you could say it's a hunch."

A few new waiters entered with the food. They set it on the table, asked if we needed anything else, and left.

"Well, son, you found one interesting woman, huh?"

Jason gave a breathy laugh, as if he was trying to keep his nerves together. "Yeah, I guess I did."

The current conversation died out and turned into useless banter. What they wanted to get from the auctions, who they would be fighting it for, money, fame, glory, all of it. Jason leaned over and asked if you wanted something, but you declined the generous offer. You knew there would be Kurt's eyes, but buying them seemed a bit off. Almost like cheating.

You wanted to collect them through force, just like they did, only then will you be satisfied. Still, you appreciated the offer and made sure he knew you did.

Everything was calm, the food was hot and the candles became a later memory from the conversations you were listening in on. That was until a sudden ding echoed in the private room. Then another, and another, and quickly everyone's phones rang of emergency alerts and messages.

You didn't have to glance over Jason's shoulder to see the message, you already knew what happened. Still, a part of you checked to make sure you didn't have to leave the welcoming lot of individuals.

You didn't know wether to be disappointed or excited, but either way you faced your date. "I'll head over to the auction house to investigate—"

"We all will." Commanded the father. "The merchandise is missing, as well as everyone else."

"Everyone else?"

Manchile pulled himself from his seat. "Owl grabbed the stuff before shit went down. But everyone in the auction house is gone, poof, missing." There was another synchronized ding. "There's a hot air balloon heading south."

"In the direction of Meteor City?" You commented, already heading towards the door. "I'll head over there. Keep me informed, I need a list of the people missing and a list of people chasing down the balloon. Anything else of importance will help." You pointed to Jason, but he held out his hand.

"Do you think it's the Troupe?"

You turned and stared into his chocolate eyes, his brows furrowed with worry. So you smiled kindly. "I know it's the Troupe."

"Get the Shadow Beasts." The father's voice trailed off behind the door.

You were calm as you walked through the restaurant, the hectic banter of the trailing mafia men closely behind. They passed you and exited, you quickly following suit. The outside air was crisp and humid from an old rain and the clouds coated the sky like a blanket.

"Are you calling them Jared?"

"Hurry and get worm on the phone Jackson!"

"You already have the merchandise? Good, good, keep it safe and get the others. Worm, Rabid Dog, Porcupine, and Leech are already on their way."

"(Y/n)! If it's the Troupe you should wait for the other beasts and go with them. Just to be safe." Jason held your hand, finally noticing the toughness of your overworked hands. His were soft, raised with little trouble unlike yourself.

"I'll be fine, I'm strong enough to last against one, maybe two of the members if I'm lucky." You slipped your hand from his grip and tore off your expensive heels, no need for them to get ruined like your dress. "Can you hold these for me? I'd hate for them to get dirty." You handed him your pearls, leaving the earrings because they wouldn't get caught on anything. "I'll have to come back and get them."

You smiled at him again and summoned your gauntlets, dashing off to catch a hot air balloon. He stared at your disappearing form, a clear as day blush spread across his cheeks.

~~~

You made it after a while of running, but the battle had already begun. You stationed yourself on top of the plateau surrounding the battlefield, and already you scolded yourself for not trying to keep the beasts as back-up.

Their bodies littered the floors and blood soaked the dry earth. Biting your lip, you assessed the playing field. Uvogin sat alone, a hairy man you could only assume was the Porcupine character stuck to his fist. The rest of the Troupe members, not all of them, sat along the sides with cards in their hands. Machi, Nobunaga, Feitan, Franklin, Shizuku and Shalnark. You wondered if that was everyone or if someone was hiding.

Next was a few mafia men smart enough to not engage in battle, but why haven't they run off yet? You would have taken more care in who they might be, but you were quickly cut off with an ear piercing scream. You covered your ears and crouched down further, wincing at your late reaction.

Uvogin smiled and waited. Blood spurt from Porcupine's ears and not a moment later he fell to the floor with a dead eyed thud. The mafia men began to make their move, so you wondered closer to where they were stationed.

Then it happened, chains tightly wound themselves around Uvogin and tugged him into oblivion. Chains... chains! Kurapika! With your new revelation you ran towards the car everyone was piling into. But in no time Uvogin was packed in and they began their drive away.

With a low growl you sprinted faster and jumped off the cliff side and towards the first car. You tumbled onto the roof, denting it underneath the impact, and attached yourself with your gauntlets.

Your burning rage dismissed the passenger's window, and you smashed into it without care for who was on the other side. Gripping their shirt and almost pulling them out, the frightened girl screeching. "Kurapika!"

Two pairs of red eyes stared into each other's souls. He knew he was in deep shit. "(Y/n)-"

"Don't you fucking dare." You snapped, pointing your finger to the man tied up in the backseat., but your eyes stayed glued on the blond. "I swear to god if I hear any bullshit I'm going to tear a tongue out!"

"Someone's in a pissy mood." A deep voice reverberated through the small confines of the black car. Finally, you glared at the man in the back seat, his entire body tied under nen chains.

"Eat lead Uvo."

"Already checked off the bucket list (y/n/n)."

God, you hated that nickname.

#yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere phantom troupe #yandere chrollo lucilfer #Yandere chrollo #Yandere Phantom Troupe x reader #Yandere chrollo x reader #just a teaser because this one is a long one #Kurta reader #fem reader #Yandere x reader #not even a teaser literally probably the first half #maybe the first third of the full fiction #Yandere hunter x hunter fanfic #puttin grandom tags cause it’s late #love you guys #strong reader

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marvelsimp · 4 years ago

Text

The New Kid: Friend or Foe

The New Kid Masterlist

Ch. 5

Genre: Fluff? Pairing: Peter & Lesbian!reader, Avengers & Reader, (eventual Wanda x Reader it’s a slow burn) Warnings: violence(training), blood, stabbed, strong language Description: Y/n is getting used to living in the tower and makes an unlikely friend Reader’s Powers: Healer, telepath, and empath. Word Count: 2278

“You can’t pull your punches, Y/n/n. In a real fight, you’re gonna have to fight for your life.”

“You know my whole power set is pacifist.”

“That’s why I have to train you,” said the slightly annoyed red-haired woman. “Now get your head in the game and let’s go again.”

You scoffed; you were frustrated that you had to do this. That you had to learn how to hurt people. You took a moment to stretch and you both went back into your fighting stances to start again.

You went to punch her face, but she dodged, she then raised her leg and tried to kick but you caught her foot. She quickly got her foot free before you could do anything with it. This went on for a while, you both got some good punches and kicks. You did land on your ass a few times, but you got up each time and went back to it.

“Time out”

Thank god.

Steve walked in. Oh god no. You knew what was coming, you were gonna have to fight Steve. You very dramatically fell on the floor and spread out. “Come on, Nat. This is creeping up on child abuse,” you laugh.

You earned a chuckle out of both of them. Steve stood above you and offered you his hand to which you accepted. Nat went onto showing you some simple moves to help you fight someone bigger than you after about an hour you finally got to go and get a shower and really start your day.

The last week and a half passed by quickly. Peter stayed at the tower for the first few nights but went back home once school started. But he would come after patrol and he still video called during homework, like usual.

Most of your time was spent in one of the labs. You have been helping Tony with one of his suits as a way for him to familiarize you with the machines and programs. Bruce did less hands-on work he worked on calculations for his own projects and did some work for SHEILD. You went down to the Med Lab a few times to give Dr. Cho some blood samples or some information about your powers. She took a small sample of skin, fat, and muscle from your thigh, but it healed within a minute like nothing ever happened.

You also spent some time in the gym, which you hated but the others made it a little more fun. You were really only doing it to get ready for training with Nat. When you first went in you had no clue what you were doing. Sam, Bucky, and Steve were doing some training exercise when you entered but Sam quickly saw your very clueless face and walked over to help.

“Hey, kid.”

“Hi.”

“I’m assuming you have no clue what you’re doing? You look as clueless as I would if I went up to the Tech Lab.”

“That obvious?”

He let out a chuckle. Sam gave you some stretches to warm up and then showed you how to use some of the machines. He gave you advice on how long to use each machine and told you that if you needed anything just yell. The rest of your time in the gym you watched the three men do whatever they were doing. Sam and Bucky’s bickering was very entertaining and so was Steve yelling at them to focus. You were there for around an hour every day until Nat started to train you. You very quickly learned that you grew muscle faster than the average person and you weren’t sore for very long.

When you weren’t in the lab or the gym you were probably in your room playing a game or you were talking to Wanda while she was making a meal. “So, are you the assigned cook?” you joked. You’d only ever seen Wanda prepare meals since you got here.

Wanda just shook her head, “Not really. I just enjoy it, so I usually am the one to cook. But Bruce sometimes cooks and so do Steve and Bucky. When I first joined I helped Steve add a bit of flavor to his meals. Thank god I didn’t live in the 40s.” She laughed a little, you love her laugh and smile, they seem to make the room a little brighter.

You weren’t a cook yourself so you didn’t help too much, but you would talk to her and get her something if she needed it but usually, she’d just use her powers.

That’s really the only time that you see Wanda, most of her day is spent training. She’s Strange’s apprentice. You still haven’t met him, for someone who can make portals you’d think he’d pop in at some point. You asked Wanda about seeing him, but she told you that you need to be invited or it needs to be something important. She warned against pissing him off because it takes a while to get back on his good side. But she told you she’d mention it to him.

You got into a rhythm of training, breakfast, tech lab, lunch, med lab, tech lab, supper, and Video games, the library, or more time in the tech lab. It was rarely thrown off. Every few days someone would go out for a mission or return from one. Nat only missed two training sessions, so Bucky stood in. You enjoyed training with Nat, but Bucky made sure to put some fun into it. At first, he seemed so cold but after some warming up, he really was just a big Teddy Bear. He can still be an ass though.

Your days stayed on this loop for another week until Thor returned with Loki. No one fully trusted Loki so Stark ended up putting a tracker on him that Wanda enchanted so that Loki couldn’t remove or deactivate it… he was not impressed. Well, he was, just not pleased.

“You must be Lady Y/n,” Loki smirked.

Thor whacked the back of Loki’s head. “Be good,” he whispered.

Loki just let out a mischievous laugh, “Don’t worry brother.” Loki turned back to you, “So you’re the one who discovered me? I wouldn’t expect a mere mortal would be able to find me out... not even THE Scarlet Witch did.”

“You’re impressed?” you scoffed. “Or maybe a little jealous.” You knew that he’s the god of mischief and you aren’t gonna deal with any of his shit, you’ve got enough going on.

“No,” he defended, “Just interested.”

“I’m a telepath and empath,” you explained, “and a healer.”

“Oh! So, you cheated!”

“What do you mean cheat? Your thoughts were so loud you were giving me a headache!”

“I will get my revenge.”

He’s going to so annoying, isn’t he?

Loki was surprisingly quiet over the next week until you went to the tower’s library.

The library itself is a whole floor, it has a copy of every book you could think of. It even has a librarian who is almost constantly putting up new releases. It’s a bookworm’s dream.

You wanted to find a physics book or two and you weren’t against finding a new queer fantasy book. You returned your books and asked Mx. Anderson where you could find what you were looking for and they quickly gave you directions and suggestions.

You found and picked out a few physics books and then made your way to the young adult section. The queer books have a rainbow sticker on the spine. You picked out a few then headed to leave, you walked into the “classics” section and there was Loki on a couch reading with a pile of books next to him.

“Hey,” you smiled.

“Hello,” said the Asgardian who didn’t even look up from his book.

You bent down a little to sew the cover of the surprisingly thin book. “Oh, you’re reading Shakespeare!” He was reading Hamlet. “My favorite is Romeo and Juliet. Have you read it yet?” He finally looked up from his book. “No,” he seemed a little confused, “But I did read a few others of his work and I think that is in my stack.” He turned to find it. “It has such odd language compared to the rest of you.”

“They were written like four hundred years ago,” you explained, sitting next to him.

“Ah, language does change quite quickly.”

You nodded in agreement.

“What are you reading?” he said pointing at your stack of books.

“Oh, uh um. These big books are physics books, and these smaller ones are fantasy romance.”

“Hmm, you don’t seem to be one who reads romance.”

“Well, I’m really more into it for the fantasy elements but I do enjoy a good romance.”

He gave you a smirk,” Besides Romeo and Juliet and any of Shakespeare’s works. Do you have any recommendations for me?”

You went on to recommend some classics and some more recent books. He listened to every word and asked a few questions. You didn’t stay long; you were tired and just wanted to dive into one of your books. You would usually be in the lab at this time, but it was nice to have a few hours to yourself before dinner.

“Knock, knock,” said a voice at your door.

“Hm?” you looked up. “Peter!” you set down your book and ran to him for a hug. It had been a while since Peter had come to the tower. He hadn’t even been introduced to Loki, formally that is. ‘How’s my favorite bug!”

Peter let out a laugh, “Good! You’re acting like we don’t talk every day.”

“Video calls and in-person are completely different things! Anyways what are you doing here?”

“It’s Thursday aka movie night.”

“Oh, yeah!”

You and Peter walked out of your room and went to the common space to eat dinner.

“Lady Y/n,” said a booming voice.

“Yes, Thor!”

“Would you and the Man of Spiders like to sit next to me and my brother?”

“Yes, we’d love that,” you laughed.

“So, you’re telling me that you’ve never had ice cream!” you practically yelled at Loki.

Everyone was surprised with how comfortable you and the trickster were with each other, especially Peter.

“What’s with you and him?” Peter whispered.

“We bonded over books,” you whispered back. “Your girlfriend would like him.”

Peter smiled, he’s pleased that you’re getting along with everyone and most of all that you’re happy.

The rest of the night was nice, it was just like the last two movie nights. Dinner, talking, movie, and then Peter had to leave to finish his homework or go on patrol.

The next week was just like you had gotten there but Loki had decided that it was a perfect time to really embrace his title. He started to pull little pranks, nothing too bad or really anything that went beyond a little annoyance. Or at least he didn’t until today.

It was Saturday so you slept in because you thankfully did not have to go to training. You were about to leave when you noticed a box on your desk. It was about the size of a backpack. So, you decided to open it and when you looked inside there was a black cat with emerald eyes. Who got you a cat? You like cats and like…thanks? But still, who would get you a cat out of nowhere? You picked up the cat and as soon as you did it started to transform, and you felt a sharp pain in your side. The cat continued to transform into of course… Loki. The raven hair man quickly sprinted out of your room to the common area.

You looked down and there was a fucking kitchen knife in your side.

“You bitch! I like this shirt!” you yelled while running out of your room.

When you entered the common room, Loki was nowhere to be seen. But Nat, Bucky, and Steve were there. “Where did he go?”

“Who?” Nat turned around and saw the knife in your side. Her eyes widened, then she looked fucking pissed. “What the fuck! Are you okay?” The men's emotions followed the same track.

“Oh yeah,” you said nonchalantly. You pulled the bloody knife out of your side. Some blood soaked into your shirt’s fabric, but you weren’t worried. But you do like this shirt… that bitch is gonna pay.

“Do you want me to kill him?” said the brunette man bluntly.

“Don’t worry, I got this.” You rushed into the elevator and told Friday to take you to Loki.

The elevator lowered to the Library. Of course.

“Sorry, Mx. Anderson!” you yelled while running by their desk. “There will be yelling and possibly blood shed!” You already know where he is. He’s in the classics.

There he was sitting on the couch, nonchalantly reading the Iliad.

“You’re a fucking bitch you know? I really like this shirt!” you waved the knife in your hand around.

“Oh please. You’re a healer, you’ll be fine.”

You crossed your arms, “LOKI. My fucking shirt.”

He raised his arms in defense. “It just a blood and a slight rip.”

You walked up to Loki and took off your shirt, thankfully you were wearing an undershirt that you didn’t care about. You handed the shirt to him. “Fix it then.”

He accepted the shirt and scoffed. “Fine.” He waved his hand over the shirt and it was now good as new.

“See, that was easy.” You grabbed the shirt and started to walk away. “And don’t stab me again! I think two assassins would very happily kill you!”

NEXT CHAPTER

Ice Cream or Blood

#The Avengers #avengers #loki #avengers x reader #reader-insert #x reader #lesbian reader #avengers x platonic!reader #peter parker #peter parker x platonic!reader

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kittyreading · 4 years ago

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Manga Master List: Recommendations and My Personal Wish List

!!//PLEASE READ//!!

Below is every manga from my amazon wishlist I would recommend(as of February 11 2021) with a picture and a 3-5 sentence explanation of what the manga is about. Underneath will also be the number of volumes I have read, the number I own, and it’s status of ongoing or complete and how many volumes it has. This way you can decide for yourself if you think I have read enough of it to give an accurate recommendation.

This list only includes manga you can purchase (including digital purchases) from the wishlist. I decided that I would in fact include my personal amazon manga wishlist here and at the bottom for people to buy THEMSELVES a copy of any of these manga they would like. Keep in mind many of these won’t have volume 1 in the list but you should be able to get to the series page from the list. If a manga shows up on the amazon list that I did not include in this one that is because I have not read enough of them(or any of them) to recommend. Ok? Cool, enjoy the list!!

1. The Girl from the Other side is about a little girl living with a gentleman monster. It is a supernatural mystery with beautiful art.

Own: 0

Series: Ongoing at 9 volumes

2. Pumpkin Scissors is a military fantasy about a War Veteran named Randal Oland who joins the pumpkin scissors core to help with war relief and uncover the deep corruption of the government. It is similar in themes to FMA in the sense it appears to be based on a World War, and corruption of government but it more focused on the power of the noble houses in government. There is also a fun science element but it is not as in focus as in FMA. The two but are very very different overall tho. Only 5 volumes were distributed in physical English copies as the publishing company went bankrupt, all others are only available digitally. (I couldn’t get the manga vol. 1 cover to work so the picture above is a poster for the anime)

Own: 0

Read: around 10

Series: Ongoing at 23 volumes

3. Monthly Girls Nozaki-kun is a slice of life about a bunch of highschoolers. Nozaki is the mangaka of a popular Shoujo manga who uses his personal experiences with friends to create his monthly comic series. It is a fun gender stereotype reversal manga with a large cast of both male and female characters (one could be HC as genderfluid but she’s still canonically female at this time) The manga is one of the easiest to read as the panels are mostly in straight down rectangles so the pages are extremely easy to follow and is very funny.

Own: 1

Status: Ongoing at 12 volumes

4. Yu-Gi-Oh! is well known to be about the card game yu-gi-oh, using magic and myths to further the story, HOWEVER, Yu-gi-oh! is the “Season 0″ of the series it is much darker than to be expected and there is no card game. The Yu-gi-oh most are familiar with is Yu-gi-oh Duelist (just found this out myself) and is the Yu-gi-oh you probably already know. There is no overarching plot to this mini series it is just Yugi fucking shit up playing games and destroying some bullies. I have yet to read any of Duelist as of the creation of this post therefore I cannot recommend it :/

Own: 5 (1-3 & 6-7)

Status: Completed at 7 volumes

5. The Way of the House Husband is about a former yakuza who gets married and flips his script. He becomes a house husband for his working wife and carries on doing chores and errands while still looking and acting scary unintentionally and getting himself in trouble. It is a slice of life comedy with some adult jokes but is over all extremely funny and pleasant to read.

Own: 0

Status: Ongoing at 7 volumes

6. Hikaru no Go is about a highschool boy who finds a haunted Go board. He meets the ghost who once was a prolific Go player. Together they work to become a world class Go champion meeting new people along the way. This series was cut short due to legal issues with a real Go player and therefore will remain unfinished but the story that is there is golden. It is still one of the most popular manga in Japan.

Own: 0

Status: Complete at 23 Volumes

7. Zatch Bell! This manga is about a teenager named Kiyo who gets sent a young boy with amnesia named Zatch Bell who turns out to be an alien called a momodo. Now the two must battle other momodo in order to understand what happened to Zatch and to make Zatch the new king. Along the way they make many friends and save both the momodo and human worlds. This one is difficult because it is a classic that did not do well in America so the volumes are expensive and the series is unfinished in English. You can only buy 27 of the volumes in English and a few of them are almost impossible to find, however it is well worth the money if you can afford it and it is available online.

Own: 6 (1-5 & 13)

Status: Complete at 33 Volumes only 27 printed in English (you can finish series online)

8. Fullmetal Alchemist is a cult classic most have read it, watched the series, or heard of it at the very least. This is one of the most popular Manga of all time and for good reason. The manga is about 2 brothers Alphonse and Edward on a journey to return their bodies to normal after committing the taboo of human transmutation. The manga has themes of racism, government corruption and manipulation of the military. The versions on my wishlist are the special Fullmetal Editions so they will have a different price point and volume number than the regular volumes or the omnibuses’

Own: 12

Status: Complete at 27 Volumes

9. Princess Jellyfish is about a young woman who is sort of an outcast otaku living with 5 other otaku women. She has a deep love for jellyfish as they remind her of her late mother. She meets a beautiful woman who turns out to be a male college student and slowly comes out of her shell making new friends and growing with old ones as well. This manga is very sweet and I really don’t know what else to say haha.

Own: 0

Status: Complete at 17 volumes

10. !!!HUGE TW FOR EATING DISORDERS!!! In Clothes Called Fat is a, oneshot, non romanticizing story of an office woman trying to lose weight and developing several eating disorders in the process. She goes through hardships in relationships and bullying as well. It has a bittersweet ending and should be read with caution but it is beautifully done. Please do not read this if you are under the age 16 at the very youngest there are NSFW moments as well as just generally not being a topic for younger audiences.

Own: No

Read: Yes

Status: Completed one shot

11. My LOVE Story!! Is an adorable Slice of Life shojo about a highschooler named Takeo Gouda, his girlfriend Yamato, and his best friend and hear throb Suna. This series is rather refreshing as the relationship starts pretty much immediately, the best friend is very supportive, and it is focused on Takeo’s personality over looks as he is often compared in manga to a gorilla or bear. It is a generally heart warming story with some emotional side plots. The ending is sort of sudden but it’s really enjoyable.

Own: 6 (1-3,8,10-12)

Status: Completed at 13 Volumes

12. Soul Eater is pretty popular but if you don’t know what it is about it is about a Weapon named Soul and his Meister Maka. They attend a school that teaches them how to defeat people before they turn into Demons, saving the world in the process. Once a weapon eats 100 evil souls and a witches soul they can become the new death Scythe! That is the plot presented, and it of course goes off into a much more complicated storyline. It is super fun and engaging with a fascinating plot near the end.

Own: 5

Status: Completed at 25 Volumes

13. D. Gray-Man is a little complicated. Similarly to Soul Eater D. Gray-Man is a story based around defeating people turned demon and the saving of the world through an organization, however the plot gets very complicated very quickly. The art is some of the most interesting and beautifully fun art I’ve come across and the characters are (so far as I’ve read) all amazing. The story has a lot of christian influence and is one you have to really keep up with to understand but I recommend it regardless!

Own: 10

Status: Ongoing at 27 Volumes

14. One-Punch Man is also very popular and is about a man who becomes so strong he only needs to punch you once to completely annihilate you, and it greatly annoys him. This manga greatly touches on the themes of self worth as Saitama becomes a hero that no one seems to want. The fights are fun and engaging, tho at times can be difficult to read. The art is gorgeous, with some of the most heavily detailed work I have ever seen.

Own: 3

Status: Ongoing at 21 Volumes

15. The Boy and The Beast is the manga adaptation of the movie by the same name. This is a bittersweet story about a boy who finds a family in the land of the beasts and the repercussions of this intermixing. It is sweet and sad and there’s not much else to say, but that it is a beautifully crafted story.

Own: 1

Read: 1 (but I’ve seen the movie and read the light novel)

Status: Complete at 4 Volumes

16. MAR is not a manga I should be recommending as I genuinely don’t think I have read enough of the story to do so but I love it so much I’m going to anyway. MAR is a classic Isekai Shonen, a kid goes through a door into another world and has to fight a war to save it, there is a super fun magic system and some wonderful story building with genuinely enjoyable characters and battles. I am recommending this more based off the anime than the manga itself because it was one of my absolute favorites when I was younger, so take from that what you will! This manga has the same issue Zatch Bell does however, the series did not do amazingly so the volumes can be expensive!

Own: 3

Status: Complete at 15 Volumes

Thank you for your time haha! I hope you liked the list, here is my wishlist again and if you have any questions please let me know!! I will try to keep this master list updated as it and the wishlist will only continue to grow, but I make no promises for doing it often. Making this took me a very long time so I hope you like it!

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boogiewrites · 4 years ago

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Burning Star

Chapter 1

Characters: Din Djarin/The Mandalorian / Reader / You

Summary: Din Djarin is a long-time associate and friend. When faced with the truth about the creed he's taken, doubts begin to grow in his mind about his choices. He comes to you, looking for a confidant and he finds more than he bargained for. Begins latter part of S2, porn with plot. A growing romance between two characters that thought of themselves as solitary creatures now wanting to no longer be alone. But with The Mandalorian being who he is, things can never be so simple.

Warnings/Tags: Sexual Content. Dry humping. Confessions of feelings. Hurt/Comfort. Touch Starved.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

You couldn’t recall the exact BBY you’d met The Mandalorian. But then again, you weren’t even sure of your birth year, so dates tended to blend into one another in your memory. You recalled every encounter though, every mission he’d asked you to assist him on, the times you’d healed him and his ship, and especially the time he’d come to your planet for refuge with a strange but endearing little green creature. Your small, backwater planet didn’t have much. But that was one of the main things that had drawn you to it. Your parents were nomads, and you’d adopted the same after their death. So you made yourself a home on a green little planet after years of travel. It homed tiny hubs for weary travelers dotted along with the mountainous surface. But the one they called Mando always came to yours.

You had entertained the idea of becoming a Mandalorian after your parent’s death. They were prospectors, planet-hopping and hoping to make a fortune. On one expedition the Imperials decided the planet you and hundreds of others were on was now theirs for the resources. If you want to call it luck, you did live. You were taken in by an orphanage, one of many overrun with children just like you. You were full of anger and hurt and wanted revenge.

You were caught one night, trying to leave, and a woman fatefully saw you and brought you back in, having the first real heart to heart you’d had in your life. With tears in your eyes, you said you wanted the people who killed your parents, dead. You didn’t see this as unreasonable and you still didn't truthfully. You had read about The Mandalorians and were going to join them you’d told her. You were going to learn to fight and be a warrior and take your revenge. Young and full of rage, this was the only thing that made sense. But this woman, who had been watching you knew better than you did. She saw your softness, that capacity for love and sensitivity, and stopped you.

“Do not let their hate make you hard. It’s what they want. You will act recklessly and in their interests with hate in your heart. The only way to defeat evil is with kindness and love.”

It didn’t make sense at the time and when you were in a heated mood you liked to act like it still didn’t. But she was right.

You had previously spent your days reading and learning, drawing the various landscapes your parents took you too and trying to befriend the local fauna. You were a curious child that grew into a curious adult and you had fought hard to keep that sensitivity the woman told you of. So far, it had served you well.

This didn’t mean you didn’t fight. You had to to survive, but when the opportunity for kindness arose you always gave the other being a chance. But if they betrayed that trust you killed them. It seemed fair when it all came down to it. Philosophically speaking, anyway.

You had settled a store for supplies on a long-abandoned mining planet where a nearly extinct mutated species of Nexu lived in the caves under the planet’s surface. You’d protected them for generations now and they trusted you. But they were deadly to anyone else. There were rumors of the mines not being empty, of treasures left behind because they were too tricky to extract. You knew this wasn’t true. You and your toothy, furry associates had explored every bit of the caves that you could find. But that didn’t stop the desperate from trying. This was unfortunately the root of most of the violence in your life. At least you were protecting others in the meantime.

Maybe that’s what drew your Mandalorian to you. He had taken one way, The Way, and you had taken another. You saw in each other what you could have been. He’d given in to his anger and rage when he was young, and you had learned to see past yours. You had the empathy that came from years of self-reflection and control. You had taken different paths, and you both found what was missing in each other. You had the excitement of helping him on quarry hunts on a handful of occasions and he could hide and mend when needed. It was a balance, much like the force you’d read about, and it fell into place without much effort.

Wasn’t it the way that days that began like any other would lead to things you’d never expected? This day was no different. You had previously been most excited about the stew you’d been brewing for the second day, taking your sweet time with an old recipe you’d found in one of the books one of your neighbors had given you. The term neighbor is used loosely as it would be a day's walk, at the least, to the closest person.

The excitement sparked inside your chest as you went out to greet whoever happened to be landing in the field by your settlement. Then you saw the relic hovering above the broken blades of grass. You hadn’t seen a Razor Crest since his and it was easy to know who was going to come off the ramp when it happened upon your humble patch of the planet. You shield your eyes from the burning sun, close this time of the year as the glint off his Beskar armor sends a shock to your eyes.

It was a relief to see you, he thought. Something familiar, consistent, and warm to come back to after the turbulent journey he’d found himself on with the child.

“Hey, stranger!”You call out loudly, waiting for him to be closer so you didn’t have to shout and scare the foul in the surrounding trees. “I know it’s not repairs bringing you in. Your ship is shining like the Bright Star it’s in such good condition. You been on a vacation or something?”

He knew you were joking, his eyes relaxing under his helmet even though you couldn’t see. “Just got back.” his voice hits your ears, the gritty muffle of mechanical filter making it feel remote. You let him approach you, before reaching to hug him. It was something he’d had to get used to, and something you insisted on. After growing close during your time spent on his ship, the trauma bonding of violence and high stakes forced intimacy between two otherwise solitary creatures. For as long as you spent apart, the time picked up where it started when you came back together. Almost dying is hard work, and saving another from it tends to fasten the bond between people with surprising speed.

You had never shied away from him, he’d never given you a reason to. You approached life with an open heart and only shut it to protect yourself when needed. The contact felt soothing despite his hard outer layers. Both physical and figurative. A wrap of strong arms around his helmet, the weight of someone against him, a slight tug down from the height difference. It all felt very sincere, very human to him. At the moment that’s all he was certain about. The helmet hid the troubled eyes that would’ve given him away, and he found himself thankful for it.

“Always good to see you, Manny.” you give him a good squeeze, a kiss to the helmet that you polish out, cooing up at him with attentiveness. You’d refused to call him Mando any longer after one particularly heinous mission. Calling him something everyone else did, something so generic, didn’t fit. So a pet name it was. He’d never had one before. He secretly preferred it. “This Beskar keeping you safe?” you ask, buffing the spot with your sleeve and then patting his chest plate.

“Yes.” he nods. “Except for all the people trying to kill me for it.” You laugh and pat his hard head.

“Can’t blame them. Stylish... strong... beautiful. Just like you, huh?” you give him a wrinkled nose snort and you hear the grunt of amusement and note the subtle nod.

“What I’m best known for. My looks.”

He spoke with such a monotone delivery that his jokes might’ve not landed to someone more fearful and not as knowledgeable of the Mandalorian's personality under all that flash. “Where’s your little guy?”

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth than a gurgle and chirp from a perfectly him sized sack hanging off his shoulders appeared the little green wrinkly friend. “Always close by. Except when I tell him to be. Then he prefers to wander.”

“This goo ball wouldn’t be bad would you?” he tilts his oversized ears and blinks at his father figure as if he’d brutally insulted him. “Never.” you coo and give him little rubs under his jowls. His eyes shut and he happily soaks up the affection. “C’mon. Let's get inside. I bet you’re hungry.”

“He’s always hungry.” a slightly disgruntled Mando grumbles behind you.

“Sounds like you need to eat too.” you retort, hears his heavy footsteps behind you as you enter the humble building you’d built. It was made from the trees that used to fill the little clearing where the landing pad and accommodations were now. They grew fat and had many low, heavy limbs, perfect for construction. The floor was wooden, the walls a mixture of found metal, clay, and beams, same as the roof which made a lovely sound when it rained and kept the harsh seasons out. Dried flowers and herbs hung from low rafters, all part of the long list of things you did to keep yourself busy. You loved making, and your space reflected that. Despite it not being used by anyone but yourself that often, you kept it clean. Shelves and bins as you entered, a small counter for business off the side, a few small tables and chairs on the other side of the large square space with a small kitchen and refresher through doors on the far wall. It wasn’t much, but you’d made it all and it’d served its purpose thus far.

You sit the child down on a table with a cushion in it, letting his round head reach just over the tabletop. He reaches for the flowers in a bottle while you speak and Mando keeps the child's hand from breaking anything.

“Here you go. Been simmering for two days. Broth, meat, and some herbs and veg from the garden. Doesn’t get better than that little one.” You hand him a tiny spoon you’d carved for his equally tiny hands and he makes a confused sound.

“She made that for you, remember? Be nice, use your manners.” he motions towards it with a nod. You watch the child struggle for a moment before giving up and raise the small bowl.

“That works too.” you grin. “You want some? You could get the broth through that absorption accessory I made you.”

“It was destroyed during a mission recently.”

“Ah.” you nod and purse your lips. “I think I have parts to make another.”

He was used to paying for things being made for him. But you and your hobby of tinkering in a little bit of everything had led to a few things that were one of a kind. You’d made a long device that could fit under his helmet to allow liquids to be consumed without removing his helmet. He thought it was thoughtful but it was purely selfish as you were tired of him not eating your food. Before, you had bartered to eat together in separate rooms so you could get feedback. He wasn’t very good at it. Eating to live was his main purpose of doing it at all, not like you that lived to eat.

“Thank you.” is his quiet reply. There’s an easy silence watching the child burp and gulp and making a mess of himself in the process.

“What brings you in this time? You need me to open up the hut? I’ve still got fuel.”

“I’ll refuel before I leave.” You were used to his pauses, but something felt different, you could feel the consideration for his words churning in the silence. “I came to speak to you about something.”

“I can’t tell if this is good or bad.”

“I’m not sure myself.”

Your brow furrows and you lean across the table to engage him. “In trouble again?”

He is still and quiet for another beat. “I found other Mandalorians.”

Your eyes grow wide, “Oh.” you process the information, your surprise clear on your face, you had never been good at keeping control of your expressions. “Is that... not good?”

“We found a common ground and helped each other. But I feel as if I have more questions than I did before. I was so certain before of my standing within the Mandalore creed. I was raised by it, swore to it. And now...”

“What happened Manny?” you reach across and put your hand over his, the child coos at the action. The child could feel emotions, pick up on non-verbal things others couldn’t, and he knew when you were around, his protector was much happier.

“I come from a segment of Mandalorians that broke away from society. They have very different views of The Way. They told me I belonged to a cult of religious zealots.”

“Wow. They didn’t sugar coat that at all did they?” you pat his hand and try to not come off as condescending about it.

“I was not aware of this. This… difference.” you give him a sympathetic smile even though you aren’t sure if he’s looking at your face.

“What do you mean differences?”

“As soon as I met them they removed their helmets.”

“Oh well, yeah that would…” you nod, “That’s a big difference.”

“Have you read about the Children of the Watch? I know you were fond of reading of Mandalore as a child.” he asks with a touch of warmth to his words, as if it made him proud to say it about you.

‘A bit yes. There’s not much about them out there. They’re very strict and secretive. They didn’t want the progressive Mandalorians corrupting what they saw as the true Way. You all believe in being warriors and protecting what’s yours. The helmet thing seems to be the biggest deal.”

“It’s given me… concerning thoughts.”

“Do you mind if I give my opinion on it?”

“That’s what I came for.” his words made you feel special, like you mattered. They didn’t have the tainted burn of someone that wanted to use you or what you for their gain. He came to you to talk. You were flattered.

You turn your body to face his direction, both hands on top of his large, still armored one that he stared at for a moment while you spoke. Watching your hand's flowery movements to accompany your points broke his concentration on them. “I believe this equates to my discovery that I’m not human.”

His attention is grabbed, head swinging up and the child taking notice.

“I am mostly, but I have Cathar in my bloodline....”

It made sense, he thought, he pieced things together, your angled golden eyes, the large swell of hair you styled in various ways, sometimes wild and free and sometimes braided for more function when fighting. Your nails were long and sharp, your teeth a bit pointed as well, he’d never noticed if you could retract them, he thought you’d styled them in that way. Most importantly he could see the strength your ancestors had instilled in you. Even now. You were fierce, proud, loyal, and passionate. It explained your quick temper for those who harmed others for their selfish benefit. If someone had only glanced at you, human would be the general assumption. But if someone took the time to know you as he had, it was easy to believe there was something else in your blood.

“I grew up with what I assumed were humans, but I’ll never know that now. I could’ve been a foundling for all I know. So I had this loyalty to them, what I thought was a bond, a call to be a part of that. But once I came of age and... things started to appear a bit more complicated I went to someone to see what was wrong with me. Turns out nothing, I’m just not human.” you chuckle and shrug, recalling your awkward memories. “I was then left with the questioning of where my loyalty lies. Who was I? Was I Cathar enough to call myself that? Was I human enough to remain within that species, to live and love and fight with them? I was missing such a large portion of who I was, in my blood, I was someone I’d never known. I had so many things I might’ve missed out on you know? Hunting, hierarchies, mating, having family, a pride. We were known for litters, did I have siblings?” you sigh and you feel the sadness well up as it always did when you ponder the unknowns of your existence. “I digress… what I have concluded, and you may take into consideration is that you are in fact, both. Neither is more or less important. They are born of the same thing, they were once one single unit and all future and past components of Manda. You have your war gods, so do they. You have your morals, your duties, your... Way. Even if you were not a Child of the Watch, if you broke those creeds they specified, you are still a Mandalorian. You are not what you speak after all, you are your actions. Both sects believe neither to be a part of the other, but yet they helped you? You help your fellow Mandalorian. It is only a title, The Way is beyond titles, Manny, you know this.”

“I did not know that about you.” was his response.

“There’s far more we don’t know about our fellow man than we do know.” you smile at him and pat his hand. “You are usually quiet and prefer not to discuss frivolous matters. So I don’t bother you with trivia about myself.”

“I don’t believe that you or your beliefs are frivolous.” He pauses a moment, looking at your hand before placing his on top of yours. Both of his now tentatively trying to comfort yours. He didn’t show physical affection, it wasn’t natural to him. You took notice but kept your eyes on the way his hand gently stroked your own as he tried to elaborate the best he could. “You are... very well-read. An… admirable warrior of high morals. Your ideas have helped me with this. I still have concerns...questions. But for the first time since I learned this I feel… better understood.” You could almost feel the pain of him pulling those words out himself to give to another. This wasn’t his strong suit and you knew it. Was it some of the most endearing conversation you’d ever shared? Yes. Did it make your chest ache just slightly with the sweetness he was presenting even though his eyes were hidden? Also yes. He must be hurting, truly upset, and overwhelmed to try to share the burden of it with someone else.

You look back up to him and hold his hands tightly. “You’re very welcome.” you share a connected moment, eyes to the dark void of his visor as your hands move softly and slowly within the others’. “Would you prefer to continue talking about it? Or would you rather us take one of our walks? I think a break might help clear your head.”

“I think you're right .”

--------------------------------------------------------------

You took the opportunity to carry about the child, stopping to let him feel leaves and touch branches, pinching tiny bites of native fruit for him to experience. It was lovely, the scenery and the company. You kept the conversation light, talking about the books you'd read, the things you’d made, how the local Nexu’s were doing, and what the former guests had been up to. He’d met many of the foundlings that had eventually found their way to you. They had been in the same orphanage as you had. He’d scared most of them, and you couldn’t blame them, but he had always asked how they were when you spoke regardless. The child to him was the first foundling he’d taken in, lived with, cared for, and protected. You had helped with the younger children at the orphanage as you grew up and had taken in a handful over the years. And as children did, they would leave once they felt they were ready or the itch to be free came. You were concerned about how your Mando would take losing his little guy. You could tell they had a strong connection. You walked back both holding one of the outstretched arms of the very slow child, you could see how it was easy to be swept up by the little creature.

You had him care for the child, readying him for bed and getting what was needed out of his ship before locking it down and coming into the small clay and brick temporary home next to yours. It was modest, like yours, built from the clay in the hills you’d gathered yourself and decorated with various stones and tile. It was more than enough compared to what he was used to. A small room for the child to sleep, tucked away safe and cozy and you once again held the father figure and wished him a goodnight up against the cool metal of his helmet. He thanks you for your help, as he always does.

You tell him not to mention it, he’d do the same for you, as you always did. The parting goodbyes were always rather special and tender to you. He would tell you he hoped you found yourself in the favor of the maker, to be safe, vigilant, and that he would see you again. He’d always kept his promise.

---------

Going without sleep wasn’t something new for him. So sitting in the light of one of the four moons in the sky wasn’t exactly unexpected when you saw it from the dark interior of your home. He knew you were there. He had detected the movement in the building with his helmet without even looking in your direction. He sat on the stone stoop outside, helmet slowly shifting between looking down to the dirt path in front of him and up into the bright sky. It was the only glint off him from the moonlight, he was without his usual covering of Beskar armor on the rest of his body. He was in his black fabric shirt and pants, odd to see him without the visual breaks the shapes of his armor made. He still had his boots and his helmet on. You had yet to see him without them. You put on a robe to cover yourself in your summer-light sleeping shift and decided to see if you can be of any help.

He couldn’t decide if he was relieved or more anxious at the sight of you. He felt naked suddenly, despite all of his body being covered except his hands. He became hyper-aware of the small patch of skin around his neck that was uncovered, the wind tickling and reminding him he was in his most exposed state around someone in decades. You looked soft as you take slow steps towards him across the grassy garden between the buildings. It wasn’t just your loose hair, the free, flowing fabric showing skin he didn’t recall seeing before. The glow of the moon lent him to think he could see the energy around you as you approached and it bounced off your skin. But unlike The Way he was taught, he didn’t think less of you for appearing delicate. He knew better, but it seemed to help make him feel more at ease in his state of what he would call undress.

“Hey Manny.” your voice was considerate like a mother's and full of affection he didn’t feel he deserved. “Would you like some company?” you ask, tilting your head and holding out a small cup of cold liquid down to him. “Brought tea.” you mumble before moving to stand near him, the edges of your robes reaching out to caress the shaft of his boot on occasion.

With his head low, shielding his chin from your view he takes a sip. At this point in his inner monologue, he didn’t have it in him to ask you to turn away while he drank, hiding in the shadows was good enough.

“Put the kid to bed but you forgot to put yourself down too?” you give him a sleepy smile. You hear a long exhale from the filter in his helmet. “Still too much going on in your head to sleep, huh?” you say with a nod, already knowing. You sit your cup on the corner of the small stone landing in front of the door. You kneel before him, settling in and studying him dutifully. You’d never seen him look so vulnerable before, and you were mixed on your decision about how to approach him.

“Yeah. Still too much.”

“I’m all ears if you want to spill.” you offer with upward palms.

“I don’t want to keep you up. You should go back to bed. You were resting before you saw me.”

“And now I won’t be able to go back to sleep until I know you’re okay.”

A small grunt of acceptance comes from the helmet. “I feel angry and it confuses me. I shouldn’t be angry. I’ve made my decisions. Most a long time ago. But I am. I’m trying to practice humility, acceptance. But there’s only anger and this feeling of being betrayed.”

“That sounds normal to me.” you nod in support, thankful he was finally sharing with you what was going on in his mind. You’d had glances inside before, stories he’d told, where his morals lie, but this felt different. “They did help you. Maybe it’s good to focus on that?”

“I’m not angry at them.”

Your brow shows your confusion.

“I’m angry at the Children of the Watch.”

That was different. You understood him being angry at those that called him a zealot and dismissed his beliefs. Despite them being so similar.

“No matter how small of a part of my creed may have been a lie. It was still a lie. Now I wonder what else was a lie. None of it? All of it? I’ve given my life to this.”

“It’s not... simple.” you offer gently, eyes to the ground, not wanting to antagonize him.

“No. It’s not.” you let him think, studying his bare hands. It gave you plenty to do in the downtime. You’d seen bits of him before when healing him, but you couldn’t recall if you’d seen his hands. The warm brown skin was marked with light and dark scars alike from the years of abuse his body had taken. They were bigger than yours, more square and sturdy in comparison. “The things I’ve sacrificed for a lie.” it was almost a hiss, and you feel the burn of it in your chest for him.

“I know it’s not my apology to give,” you say quietly, rising on your knees to touch his forearms, suddenly aware of the softness and warmth underneath your hands as you touched him. There were no bracers to block you or worry about activating, there was just a man under there after all. “But I am sorry about how much this is upsetting you.”

“You are never a source of upset, Jaira.” Your name came off his lips like a whisper. He had so seldom used it. He wanted to reach out and touch your hands, but the thought of skin against his made him more agitated in multiple ways, both good and bad. Your expressive face told him you had known this but thanked him for the kind words all the same.

“Nor you to me, Manny.” you said his name in the same tender way, making it feel almost vulgar as you rest so close together.

He looks away, you can see the gears shifting from his subtle body language. “I believe it’s long overdue… in the interest of exploring the things I’ve sacrificed... you’ve earned my real name.” Your eyes go large, a quick jerk upward as he moves, bravely so, to place his hand over yours. His skin felt as hot as the sun. “My name is Din. Din Djarin.”

“Din.” you say with an unintentionally sickeningly sweet sigh of revelation. You give a smile that grows larger slowly, feeling it reach up into your eyes. “Din. That’s such a… gentle name. I like it.” you insist with a nudge forward of your chin.

“Yours reminds me of a phrase we have in Mandoa.” he looks down, now preoccupied with his decision to touch your hand. It was so giving, warm, and feeling distinctly feminine when paired with his.

“What’s that?”

“I think it would translate best to luck… destiny. Bright stars that light the good course to take.”

Your eyes went wide like a forest animal. You couldn’t help it, it was one of the sweetest sentiments anyone had ever given you. “Say it for me, Din.”

He felt his chest jerk at the word. He wasn’t used to being affected by them. Certainly not his name. “Jate’kara.”

“I’ve not been able to find much about your language. Would you be willing to teach me someday?”

“Of course.” he sounded borderline offended at your statement.

“Did I say something wrong?” you ask with a tilt of your head.

“No, no.” he shakes his head. “You don’t have to ask things of me like they’re favors.” he clarifies. “Whatever you need of me...I’ll do it.”

It sent a flip to your insides. This felt like a lot of responsibility. You could just... request things from this myth-worthy Mandalorian? It was an odd power rush you weren’t truly capable of dealing with in this rather intimate setting. You were close, almost between his knees, hands clasped together and speaking quietly into the warm night air. The condensation ran cool on your skin, the wind leaving bumps over your skin in its wake. The buzz of animals and insects was loud but faded when you were so close and so deep in conversation. If he said you could ask anything of him. Then perhaps you would. Why sit on the intensity of the moment? Strike.

“What is it that is bothering you? You feel... different. Not angry. I’ve seen you angry this is more subtle more...deep. I feel like you’re holding back. What is it that's making you so angry? You are so logical and reasonable in your approach to things. What is it that's so distressing you can't sleep?”

He takes a deep breath. He hasn’t wanted to say and be thought of as simple or even crude. But you'd asked and he was left with no excuse. “There are things that men want...even need that arent considered with The Way. I am a Mandalorian. But I am also a man. I've given so much of myself to being Mandalorian that I've had to deny myself things that are a part of that human side of me.”

“And with learning of the lies, you’re angry because you feel like you've been suffering for no reason.”

“Yes.” a stern answer and a strong nod to accompany it.

You almost lost your nerve, but with the way his thumb kept sweeping across your skin and the voltage it felt like it created with every touch you would’ve cursed yourself if you didn’t ask. “What have you sacrificed unwillingly, Din?”

Your eyes gave you away if your tone hadn’t. His helmet doesn’t move, he is as still as stone, gray, and shining like a polished river rock as he bores into you. “That is a bold question.”

“You have given me bold answers. I return the earnestness with the things I want to know.”

“You want to know these things?”

“I want to know you.” a direct answer and a slight leaning forward to keep him close as if he might run away in fear. Which was the most ridiculous imagery you could imagine. “I always have. I’ve been witness to your good and the bad actions. I’d like to be a bearer of your thoughts tool. I can’t help but want to understand what makes you, you. Of all the creatures and people I’ve met, you are the only one to hold my attention so completely both with and without his presence.”

Your words made for the most interesting combination of occurrences in his chest and stomach. It was fire and ice, a pull to the man in him, and a calling of praise for the life he led. His cheeks burned, a rare occurrence. It had all been a fantasy before now. But you with your fond words and their heated meanings were making them feel more real by the second.

“You do know how to appeal to both sides of me that I’m talking about.” he pauses and observes your face a moment, and no sign of retreat is within your eyes. “There's been no place for the… physical intimacy that men can crave. I am not one to pay, and I don't have the time to put into such efforts that I believe are needed for such… intimate things. They’re as sacred as an oath. I might've not acted that way when I was young. But clarity is gained with experience.”

“I share the sentiment.” a touch of sadness he understood well was in your eyes and it made his chest ache. A being like you shouldn’t know these feelings. A flash of anger lit within him for the injustice in a universe where a woman like you would ever feel lonely in such a way.

“You’ve taken no oath to hold you back from such things.”

“But I have not had the time, place, or person to swear such sacred oaths.” you give a subdued laugh, throwing his words back at him. “Or… at least I didn’t think I did… because I wasn’t sure if they could.” you look away and he sees it. You meant him.

“They can,” he answers, a deep fearless voice emanates from the helmet that holds your entire body at attention. “There are… obstacles to overcome. But they can.”

With a rush of confidence, you move closer, your chest against his legs and your hands on his knees. “Do you know of any obstacle I have yet to overcome?” a smirk that catches him off guard appears, a playfulness to your eyes bright and doting on him makes him catch the fever you were trying to spread.

“No.” a breathy answer through Beskar.

“Then let me help.” you offer. “I have grown so fond of you over these years. I wasn’t convinced you felt the same.”

“I do.”

“We can approach this issue together and… overcome it the same. As we have before.”

“As we will again.” He recites part of the toast you liked to give before leaving on missions. He remembered it. He did care.

“What obstacles are there? You know you have my silence with such things.”

Where did he even begin? He didn’t feel prepared and ironically he was unprepared for such actions to take place and feelings to be felt. “I know. I trust you.” There was nothing but the truth in his words and you reach to put your hand to the side of his helmet as if it were his cheek. You had always accepted this part of him, treating the helmet as if it WAS him and not an external thing. Which is how he thought of it most of the time. There was never a wish for him to remove it or invasive questions. You were knowledgeable about the Mandalorians and knew their armor was sacred to them, and you assumed as such about this man and his helmet. He places his hand over yours, the warmth between them registering on his helmet display and building condensation on its surface. “Let’s go inside.” he instructs, taking your hands, a flush of warmth through his bones at the touch of another.

“Is the child-?”

“Fast asleep.” he quickly answers, leading you to the small bedroom in the earthen home.

He stands at the long side of the bed for a moment, hand in yours and trying to get his bearings, it had been so long since he’d done anything like this. You saw his head moving and taking in the room and then you and back again, you could sense the uncertainty. “Din, relax.” a warm smile comes across your face, taking the lead, and that was fine with you. You almost coo his name, your hands moving to his upper arms to rub them reassuringly.

“Hard when it’s been so long.” he regrets it as he says it, thinking it might sound a bit pathetic.

“Believe me it’s been a very long time for me too.” you console him, standing chest to chest to start. You follow the hills and valleys of his arms, strong and lean under the pliant fabric to his bare hands, lacing your fingers together, feeling him hide the twitches and jerks from the sensation of touch. “Sit down on the bed. Let me get close to you.” he sits down, sat up far too straight. “Put the bend of your knees against the bed... there we go.” he feels your hands on his thighs and an audible gulp hits your ears that you ignore. “You know I’m not going to judge you. I want this… I want you too.” He feels you close the space between you, your legs sliding between his naturally wide splayed ones. “Now tell me what obstacles did you mean before? Talk to me and let me know what you need.” your hands trace the dark lines on his helmet and a shiver runs down his back.

You were being far better about this than he warranted. It made him want you more, a hunger in his lower stomach slowly growing past his anxiety. “Helmet stays on.” was his first thought, spoken almost too quickly.

“Of course.” you keep your voice quiet and soothing, hands making their trek up and down his arms, waiting to feel them lose their tension. “Do you have to leave everything else on?” you coax him with a squeeze to his biceps, putting one leg up, now visible from beneath your robe over his.

You can’t see it but you get an actual grin out of him. “No.” a more confident response, feeling more relaxed with your unintentional playful humor. You see him look down to see the bare skin, the touchless friction between your bodies growing hotter by the second.“But let’s not get carried away.”

You hear the laugh this time, he sees your expression shift, a triumphant smile for getting him out of his own head. “I know I can be sensitive when I’ve not... been touched in a long time.”

“Yeah?” he liked the sounds of you talking about it a little too much. He wanted to hear anything you’d tell him about your body.

“Yeah.” your breath catches, “Are you?”

He nods, he didn’t have the confidence in this area yet to own what he saw as shortcomings.

“I want to sit in your lap. Can I?” You wanted to take it slow. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off. There is a fine line between indulgence and going too far when it came to dealing with a man like him.

“Yes.” another quick nod, and you are happy to give in, your hips settle well on his strong thighs, feeling secure. To him, it felt it took forever and didn’t last long enough. The drag of your bare skin against his thin clothes was a lot. The weight of what felt like a lifetime of neglect to himself and his needs weighs as heavy on him as you do. He had known touch only through violence for decades now, the tenderness you were offering him willingly was almost overwhelming. He was taught the ways of war and violence since he was young. The ways of more fragile things; of love and intimacy he’d had to learn on his own.

“I’ll go slow.” Slow was the opposite of how your hearts were beating. Your fingers wanted to touch that strip of skin unveiled around his shirt collar, but you only stared at it for the moment. His head pauses just above your chest, your arms resting on his shoulders, fingers light on the edge of his helmet and hungry to move farther down.

“Thank you.” a simple but honest answer.

You’d been close before, seen large spaces of bare skin and carried one another, slept shoved into a single space too small for you both but it had never felt like this. Everywhere your bodies met was warm and giving, both now very aware of the gap between both your hips in this position. You took the time to study him up close, the metal of his helmet was unbelievably smooth as your fingers traced invisible lines and doted on the hard surface separating you from him. Did you want his helmet off? Yes. You wanted to know, to be the only one to know, to touch and feel and savor every inch of him. The more you thought about it, the closer you got to him, the harder it was to recall a time you didn’t think of him this way. Repressing your wants and needs was something you were both personally familiar with.

“It doesn’t bother you when I touch your helmet like this does it?”

“N-no. I like it.” his face a melted mess under the guard. He watched you so close, your bright eyes glowing with the light the moon beaming down. He couldn’t feel it, but he knew everywhere you touched, spots lighting up red with heat, pulsing where more pressure was applied. It was a good introduction to being touched again. You push forward, a single kiss to where you believed his cheek to be. When you pulled away, he answered before you could ask. “Go on.” a heated hiss through the filter deep and dark and heavy as it hit your ears. You place another to the other side, tilting his head you give him another to his forehead. His eyes would close when you were near, a happy sigh, a weighted exhale is let out, feeling his shoulders slumping with each dot of affection. You hold his metal cheeks, a faint kiss to the tinted part of his visor. You press your forehead against his, barely a measurement worth noting separating you as he gives in to your touch, wanting to fall into you, to give you back what you were giving him.

You move your hands slowly, giving him time to register and adapt before moving on, your arms wrap around his helmet, holding him close before leaving a trail of smaller kisses behind, bringing his head only slightly down into your chest. Underneath he was a slack-jawed puddle. Your arms made their way down his shoulders to his back, you could even feel the raised skin of scars you’d helped suture, fingertips light along them, exploring new ones. After your flat palms explored his back, finding his breathing steady and deep you tried something new. A drag of your nails against the fabric drew a deep groan from him. “Good?”

“Ung-” a deep enthusiastic grunt escapes the helmet pushed to your collarbone. “Yes.” You continue, you scratch his back and he swears he could cry at the sensation. You didn’t move away or avoid his scars, the patchwork he felt his body looked like. You embraced it, all of him, and it was hitting him harder than he expected it to.

You take a deep breath, another kiss to soothe to the cold metal. “Do you want to...see me? Or- touch me back?”

He hadn’t even thought about it, his brain hadn’t moved past the feel-good moments you were covering him in.

“Yes.” a simple but hungry answer. As you see his helmet tilt downward towards your chest.

“I want you to too.” Your sincere tone struck him, he watched your agile fingers reach for the belt that held your robe in place. It fell silent, blood in your ears as it was your turn to feel the taste of nervousness on your tongue. Your body was something that did things for you, it wasn’t something you often stopped to consider the aesthetic of. The quiet noises that he let escape as you took off the robe left any hesitation behind with it as it laid on the floor abandoned. His hands didn’t move, his chest did noticeably, as yours mirrored, picking up speed as you moved forward. You take one of his hands, thumbs rubbing circles, leaving small kisses on his fingertips as the sounds beneath the Beskar grew louder. The rhythm of his breathing was now audible, helpless sounds you never expected to hear from anything but pain brushed against your ears and touched you in places no one had in ages. You kiss him palm, nose nuzzled into the only slightly trembling fingers. After you felt the skin-to-skin contact was enough to calibrate him, you meet what you felt to be his eyes, taking his hand and placing it over your breast. You were still covered with the thin sleep shift but it was made for breathability in the heat of summer and didn’t leave much to the imagination. You take him by the wrist of the awkwardly avoidant hand and put it on the curve of your hip. “Is this-?”

“Yes.” he rushes out and sees you smile, causing another kiss to be given to his helmet where you were aiming for what would be his mouth. He groaned, feeling your nipple harden against his palm, the other feeling the silky slip of fabric as he let himself give a firm grip to your fleshiest parts.

“Go on, Din,” you whisper into his visor. “Touch me,” you ask of him. A strangled noise breaking through bitten lips is your answer. You place your hand gently on top of his, showing him it was okay, reminding him how to, helping him give in. Your hand forces his to cup the weight of your chest, the exhale of pleasure fogged up his visor as you had your head rested against his. “Like that, yeah.” you wet your lips and his hand begins to move on its own. Soon his hands are kneading at you, a simple brush of thumb over your nipple forces an inhale he drinks up the sound of.

He fondly recalled this now, that static in the air, the shared breaths and the power he felt with a woman in his grip. He relaxes his head against the bend of your neck, mouth open and watering, hidden from view but the sound of his breathing was enough to tell you he was giving over to it now. The tentativeness leaves, his hand pulls your hips closer to him, both inhaling at the feeling of touch against the places your arousal was spreading from. You let out a small whine at the feeling of the seam of his pants, pressed against by his growing erection.

“Fuck.” you hear exhaled into your shoulder and you shudder. “You feel...so good.” his hand grips you firmly, “Like velvet in my hands…” his lips brush against his helmet and he wishes it was your skin. He was famished for touch, for this connection and lust he’d repressed for so long. But here it was, in his hands, in his lap asking him for more. His hands ran up your bare chest, feeling the pulse under your skin and the slick your sweat had created. “You’re as hot as a star under my hands.” he groans.

You audibly swoon at the comment, feeling that distinct masculine roughness of well-worked hands as his palms moved into your hairline. “And you’re as hard as Beskar under me.” You move your hips, a grind against his, and a fully formed moan escapes, neck going limp and the heaviness of the helmet resting on your shoulder now. You whine, the friction feeling even more delicious against your glossy wet center. He encourages you wordlessly, a hand on your ass to keep a slow rhythm, a painful drag of your engorged clit against the perfectly fit shaft of his cock. Such a thin piece of material between you, you thought. You reach between your legs, a wet mess on both of you and it’s no surprise. “I’m as wet as Kamino, Din.” you hum and smile, the front of his helmet against your neck again. You feel the vibration of his groan against your skin. “Look what you’re doing to me,” you whisper, mouth pressed against his helmet where his ear would be. He sees the light hit your fingers as you raise them. “See that?”

“Fuck...yes little star I do.” he groaned heavily, his chest heaving a bit. You get bolder, your hand moving from your lips to the painfully hard throb in his pants. Another long groan, a jerk of his hips as you palm him, a back and forth against the pressure, feeling him jump against the confines. “Unf - I - I won’t- “ his hips jerk and his hand moved faster than you can register to your wrist. A firm hold that makes you moan and stop. There was that strength you had wanted to be obedient to. “That might be a bit… much for me.” He stopped you out of fear of not being able to stop. He didn’t want to scare you, unleash something he wasn’t ready for or couldn’t control. It was a concern he’d cum too soon and embarrass himself, this wasn’t something he could just jump back into and impress anyone.

He was thankful you weren’t disappointed, “Do you want me to make you cum, Din?” Every time you said his name with such lust in your voice it made him moan. But he didn’t feel the least bit weak for it.

“I wanted us both to...enjoy this.”

“If you think I’m not enjoying myself you’re welcome to put that hand between my legs and find the contrary.” Another moan that makes him slump comes heavily from him. “If you do want to...enjoy this…” you let out a small breathy laugh he raises his head to. “I can arrange that.” you offer, your nose gliding affectionately against the center indent of his helmet. “Relax and enjoy this with me, Din.” you give him a reassuring smile, lining your hips up again. You grind back and forth, his hands finding their place on your body quickly. You straighten your back to give him a view of you, and you finally let your fingers dive under the neck of his shirt, feeling the slightest glimpse of hair at the base of his neck, your fingers go as far into his helmet as they can. You start that back and forth against him, over and over, lazy growing more urgent as each time he gives a harsh drag across your clit, the stimulation you needed. “I’ve thought about you like this, you know.”

A small “Ungff.” was the only response he could manage.

“Wanted my hands to feel your skin, just for pleasure. Wanted to know how you’d feel... thick and throbbing beneath me like this.”

With a deep grunt, his hand holds your hip sternly, the other moving to the back of your head, pressing your forehead to his. “Yes-keep talking like that, fuck.” The demand was thick in his voice, his hands no longer gentle, giving away the need they were trying to find an outlet for.

“You’ve turned me into something I’m not for anyone else. Some needy young girl, hungry for a taste of flash and flesh with a man.”

“You’re so, fuck you’re so soft.” he moans, helmet pushing back against you like a bull, and you were happy to ride. "Your so good at that."

You let it build, focusing on the feeling between your legs, you let your breathing take over, every grind a release of sound, and a step climbed together towards your peak. “I knew you would be impressive. You had to be. Look at you.” You pant and you feel his fingers sink into your hair, a fistful slowly tightening as you held onto his back and head, leveraging and letting your hips do all the work. “No man’s ever made me such a greedy woman with only his hands before Din. No one. Only you.” The filter slips and your mouth falls open, breath fast from exertion, both sets of hands now with a white-knuckled grip against each other's bodies.

It was hot and fast and what you needed to satiate your needs. His hands and sounds told you everything you need to know for now. He wanted you, needed you, craved you. He was giving you the power to make him weak, a rush to your head that wasn’t just your impending orgasm.

“Fuck Din I’m close.” you admit, your mouth open and panting, tongue shamelessly lapping at his helmet, your lips kissing him as if he could kiss back. Once again, he returned the kisses with his hands, switching grip one went to your back, the other back to your breasts bouncing out of their thin confines.

“Fucking do it.” he bites out through gritted teeth, fingers tugging your top down to expose you and give your nipple a pinch.

“Mmmph!” a slight whine but a plea for more. “Yes fuck I love that Din, harder.” your words rush out and he eagerly follows.

“Cum for me. Cum on me. Please.” he growls, and it ignites something in you. Something primal. “C’mon little star, fuckin burn for me.” he commands, a barked order, caught up in it all, the heat, the friction, and the haze of lust around you both he cums. Unexpectedly but it didn’t matter at this point. With that solid thrust against you, a hand gripped into the flesh between your shoulder blades, the masculine energy you’d craved washes over you in the grunts and expletives that leak from the helmet.

“Yes, fucking cum Din. Give it to me.” you moan shamelessly, head falling back. A yip of “Yes.” building from whines to full roars overcomes you as you do as he asks and explode into a white bright hot light that consumes you. You try to keep the pace, the contact but your body stutters and begins to shake. The now warm metal of his helmet presses between your bouncing tits as your head tilts back and he holds you up with both hands, you never felt fear of falling when his hands were on you. At least not falling into the floor.

It was as if his mind cleared, and he was left soaking in this gleaming woman cumming hard in his arms. He held you up, seeing your chest heave, the pink flushing your skin, how much desire he felt in his growled name as you gnashed your teeth and came on him.

Fuck he felt good.

He got to scoop you up, a trembling and panting shadow of the primal goddess you’d just been, arms wrapping around your waist, one hand moving to see your face as it fought to regain its bearings.

"You glow like a star when you're like this." He isn't sure if he's overstepped, he doesn't know if the shine in your eyes is from the recent orgasm or his words. “Fuck you are… beautiful. You know that?” your mass of hair falls forward as you look down at him, chest still finding its normal pace.

Your eyes blink, a flutter of disbelief and, if he read you correctly, a slice of fear for only a second. “Beautiful?” you ask, feeling a bit bewildered.

His hand stops its gentle stroking against your hair and face. “You act like you’ve never been called that before.” You can feel the subtle laugh in his chest when he says it.

When your face remains still for a moment, eyes bright and full of memories he wishes he could access you reply almost sheepishly, “I've not.”

With the simple, quiet answer he was given more information about you than you knew you'd given up. You'd never let anyone in like this before. No one had ever held you and told you the things you longed to hear from another you cared for. You were like him after all.

With a light hand, you rest against his helmet again, stroking it as if it were his hair. "It means more coming from you than it would anyone else."

Now you've taken his words from him. You managed to make him feel special. Something he had denied his entire life. Something he wasn't sure he even believed anyone could be. In the same sentiment as your confession, he was glad it was you that was changing his changing his mind about such things. Learning the truth about the Children of the Watch, and the questions it brought up about his life was the first in a wave of realizations he'd face. Perhaps it was time to reevaluate how he lived his life if it meant missing out on things like you.

I tagged those who wanted in my Javi fic and interacted with my posts about making this fic. If you want to be added or removed just let me know.

@jaegeeeeer @likedovesinthewnd @inkededucatednnerdy @biharryjames @ladamari68 @past-romantic @weliketomoveit @shikin83 @ookamikuro @anglovesthis @swol-bear @louist91syndrome @guiltylitpleasures @nfnoofiii @hellothefriend @beatha-dubhach @l-e-i-n-t-h @firehart9

#the mandalorian reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin reader #din djarin fic #the mandalorian fic

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bunnylouisegrimes · 4 years ago

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It’s A Wonderful Afterlife (NOS4A2 Fanfic)

A/N: I’ve had this story idea in my head for awhile, but I got to writing it yesterday and the day before yesterday. Basically, this one is the story of Rose’s transformation into a vampire. It’s gonna cover some heavy topics such as nearing the end of your life and terminal illness, so be warned, but there’s a lot of happiness in the middle and near the end. Hope you all enjoy!

It’s A Wonderful Afterlife

A NOS4A2 Fanfic

By: Bunny Louise Grimes

As the years went by for Rose, very little had changed in terms of her personality. She had remained shy and introverted (unless in the company of those she deeply trusted), she had remained both gothy and girly, and she had remained nerdy. Her love for her toys, her games, her writing, her art, her vampire husband, and her children had never waned. Fifty years of marriage and a set of dhampir twins later, and from the inside, she was as young as she had been on her wedding day.

Physically, she had her differences.

By the time she reached 57, grey hairs were starting to show in ways they hadn’t before. She had never been the type to dye her hair, but in order to preserve its beauty that she so cherished, from then on out, she dyed her long hair the closest shade of matching brunette she could.

Her height was as short as before, her weight was roughly around the same spot thanks to her vigorously making sure she never went past 200 pounds, and her eyes were as hazel as before, with the exception of holding an aged look. Her face and skin had shown the obvious signs of age, but such a thing was inevitable. It was nothing a little makeup couldn’t help make look better.

Charlie still found his June Rose to be as beautiful as he always found her. He had asked her on and off since their consummation on their wedding night, where he took her virginity and kept it within him to turn her into a vampire just like him one day, if she was willing to grow an older human. She always told him she did; she wanted to see how long this “human” thing would go. She wanted to experience humanity till the end, when the next chapter in her life would have to begin and vampirism would take the lead.

But by the age of 75, when she looked as though she was older than Charlie (when he wasn’t in desperate need of souls), and looked to be a grandmother to the children of Christmasland rather than mother, and her parents and brother had moved on to the other side from their own respective health issues, things were beginning to be odd. It was a whole seven months after her 75th birthday when something wasn’t right.

The first sign was the weight loss. Rose had always been a bit plump, but both she and Charlie noticed her normally soft potbelly was slimmer and smaller. They also noticed her thighs and arms were slimmer. This confused them, and they kept it in mind, but they figured it could be the result of age rather than a sickness.

The second sign was the pain in her abdomen and middle back. Within a few weeks of noticing her fat going down, she had pains in these areas on and off, and they would pick up in intensity and frequency some days.

The third sign was the general sickness she felt. One moment, she would be playing with the children, the next, she would be feeling extremely nauseous and fatigued. She would have to throw up in the bathroom and it would take a few minutes for her to recover. Charlie and her both knew that this went beyond weariness from play due to elder age. This was an apparent illness, and something was physically wrong.

However, Rose was also unusual not just in her gastrointestinal area, but her mind as well.

Forgetfulness and misplacing something was nothing noticeable, as she did it all the time. But she suspected something wasn’t right when within those same few weeks, she was slowly starting to forget things that just happened. Both her and Charlie would be watching an episode of one of their shows, and by the time commercials ended, she was struggling to remember quite a few details of what happened before them. It took her a moment to connect the events together. The same happened when she would read, and every once in a while, she would have to slowly read the same paragraph three times.

The turning point came when she and Charlie were discussing things in bed, and she was struggling to remember certain conversations they had and she had with the children only a month ago that she remembered a week before. A few details Rose brought up were nonexistent, and Charlie had to correct her. That night, she decided that between these small forgetful spells and these stomach issues, it was clear she needed to go to a doctor as soon as possible. He agreed and promised to take her in the morning.

The next day, they left Christmasland for the appointment Charlie made for her the moment he woke up. They explained to the doctor all of Rose’s physical and mental symptoms. The doctor nodded; how he nodded made her nervous. When she was younger, she was a nurse, and through her medical knowledge, she could guess what these symptoms meant, but she wanted to trust another medical professional’s judgement, as these things could be nothing rather than something, but as obvious as it sounded, it was always better to be safe than sorry. She had seen that nod before when in the presence of both patients who were relieved to find their serious symptoms were nothing and those who were about to have the news of terminal illness broken to them. Like a coin flip, it would be heads or tails: heads would be another day to live, tails would be a death sentence.

A series of nerve wracking scans and tests with Charlie by her side later, and the diagnosis was clear. The moment the doctor came back to their room, Rose, like a bloodhound, smelled the sullen seriousness in his face and tone of voice. She recognized that face and voice from her nurse days; the coin was tails. He was about to give her the date and method of her execution before slamming his gravel down.

Rose had always imagined that she would go out thanks to her heart or some sort of diabetes related sickness, given bad hearts and diabetes ran in her mom’s side of the family, and her obesity she tried to control would certainly be a contributing factor. Genetics were a hell of a double edged sword: they could give you the most beautiful set of eyes and hair with skin to match, but they could also give you the worst odds of illness you could think of.

This time, it was not Rose’s heart that would fail her, or the development of diabetes. It was two things that were just as genetic, but aruguably worse. She recalled her mother telling her that Rose’s great aunt had died of pancreatic cancer, and it was a miserable way to go. She also remembered her mother telling her that Rose’s great grandmother was suspected of suffering from Alzheimer’s before succumbing to death.

Well, it was no surprise to Rose when she learned that these two things were her method of execution. Not only because she suspected they could be possibilities, but because the facts were simple: if she was somehow strong enough to survive the painful destruction her body would suffer from the cancer, the synapses in her brain would be eaten away, just as if she was bitten by a zombie from one of her stories, and much like a zombie, not much would remain of her but a dead shell. She would be a burden to her husband and children, and they would have to watch her go from being a loving, wonder filled woman to a sickly, miserable, pain filled stranger who wouldn’t even be able to remember herself, her lover, or her children.

Both her and Charlie took this news with with equal sadness. The future was bleak, and they knew that. Not even chemotherapy treatment was worth it.

“My grandfather suffered from esophageal cancer, and he did not fare well with chemo thanks to his genetics,” she explained to the doctor. “Given that I am half my mother, and she is half of him, my odds are not good, are they?”

“Well, you certainly have a better chance than your mother, but yes, he is a direct blood relative, so the odds are there. If you wish to go through chemo, we can get you started on it, but if you don’t want to risk it or have any treatment, you’ll have roughly a year left to live. Since cancer and dimentia do have a connection, as it spreads throughout your stomach and body, your mental decline will come rapidly. I estimate that you will go through the final stages of both illnesses simultaneously, and it will, to put it lightly, be painful for all parties involved.”

Rose nodded. “I don’t think I want to risk it. I don’t think there’s much of a point to go through all of that, only for my mind to fail me. Not to mention, wouldn’t chemo worsen it?”

“It can, yes,” the doctor continued. “Since the state of Colorado offers the End of Life Options Act, we can administer physician assisted suicide, if that is what you would prefer, but there will be a few things you’ll need to do.”

Had Charlie not been in her life, Rose would’ve agreed to do such a thing in these circumstances, although, if she hasn’t met him, she most likely wouldn’t have been in the state of Colorado and instead stuck back home in Ohio, where no such laws would exist. She knew that with the choice of transforming into a vampire, suicide wasn’t needed.

“I’ll need to think on that,” Rose lied.

“I understand, as this is a lot to take in. Please contact me as soon as possible when you have come to your decisions.”

Father and Mother Christmas departed the hospital and stepped inside the Wraith. The drive back to Gunbarrel was at first silent, but Charlie needed to pull over to a secluded area. Rose could see the tears in his brown eyes.

“My beloved...” He hushed, his deep voice breaking. “You’re so sick...”

“I know,” she said softly. “I wanted to give my humanity the best run I could, and I did. But I’m not going through this shit. I’m going out on my own terms, only I won’t have to die. I’m becoming a vampire, and going into the next chapter of my life.” She turned to Charlie. “You don’t need to cry, baby. You have the power to prevent my departure from this world. I already talked to each of my family before they went, and they knew I was going to be immortal as long as I could be, but I could still contact them through my new psychic powers. If you and the kids are more sensitive to spirits, that must mean I will be too. Hell, we’ll make it look like I chose to die without treatment or assisted suicide to the doctors. I’ll be alright. Everything will be alright.”

“Yes, I know,” he sobbed, wiping his eyes. “It’s just... the idea of you dying... the fact is, you had been dying, and you are dying. I know that’s humanity, but when you have something like this... you are not only dying in the human sense, but the clinical as well.”

The gravity of Charlie’s words slapped Rose in the face, just as the news of her diagnosis in the first place had moments ago. Even though she had another chance, unlike so many others in her place, there was still a sadness to be had. This chapter in her life was done, and she could either do one of two endings: continue down a horrible road until salvation was given to her and everyone was left scarred from their experiences, or embrace salvation now. Rose knew that she was going to avoid that horrible road and jump straight to the awe inspiring transformation that would mark the next chapter, but it was a shame her human form had to suffer like this, and that it was even an issue. In addition, 75 was decently young for elderly death. If she were in her 80’s, or especially her 90’s, this was expectant, but 75... it seemed a bit too soon.

She began to cough, and Charlie handed her his white handkerchief. Her eyes widened when she saw blood splatter, and that’s when her own tears poured from her eyes. She gave it back to Charlie and buried herself in his chest. The two held onto each other and wept for a good twenty minutes before deciding they needed to head back home.

Before they exited the car to greet their children, Rose suddenly smiled as she held Charlie’s hand. “Tomorrow,” she said. “I think tomorrow is a good day to celebrate my last day of humanity, and then I’d like to transform. If that’s okay with you.”

A smile formed on his own face. “Whatever day you are ready, my love. I will fuse your innocence back inside of you whenever you desire.”

They broke the news to the children, but they handled it well. They understood the severity of the situation regarding their mother’s health, but were excited and viewed the positive side, that their mother was to be an immortal vampire much like them and their father. When their mother told them she would like to celebrate the last day of her humanity tomorrow and transform into a vampire tomorrow night, they knew that much was to be anticipated for. Their father assured them that tomorrow would be a day to never forget.

While the other children ran upstairs to go to bed, excited for what tomorrow would hold, Millie, Lorrie, Nicholas, and Holly stayed behind. They ran over to their mother and hugged her.

“Even though you’re not gonna be a human anymore,” Lorrie began, “it doesn’t change a thing.”

“We always knew you’d be a vampire like us one day,” Millie added. “We hope you’ll be healthy and happy again real soon.”

“I will, babies,” Rose reassured them. “I will.”

“If we’re half human...” Nicholas spoke up.

“...That means we’re the last pieces of your humanity, right?” Holly finished.

“Yes, it does, babies,” Rose smiled wider. “I suppose it does.”

The twins beamed at each other in pride.

“But just because I’ll become a vampire doesn’t mean I still won’t be myself,” she clarified. “We’ll all still be just as we were, just with me having some physical improvements. It’ll be just as if I will always human.”

They nodded and knew it was time to get ready for bed with the others. They raced each other up the stairs, their parents tagging behind. When everyone was ready, Charlie and Rose bid the little ones good night before snuggling close to each other in their own bed.

Sleep could not come quick or easy for Rose, as her worries and anxieties mixed with her excitement kept her awake, but somehow, she found herself asleep. While Charlie slept, he dreamt of how the party would look for his beloved: the balloons, the streamers, the cake, the lights, the roses everywhere, the unicorns, the glitter... everything to honor his lover’s life and everything that represented what she was and would always be to their family.

When he awoke the next morning, Rose was still asleep. Letting her get her much needed rest, he snuck downstairs. The children had all woke up at the same time he had. They all snuck down the steps and they paused, amazed at the sight that awaited them downstairs...

When Rose opened her eyes and rubbed them, she turned next to her to find Charlie missing. She went to the bathroom and left her bedroom to check on the children. They were not in their very large and ever expanding bed. She noticed that the living room was dark, but all sorts of odd shadows filled it. She went down the steps and turned the lights on.

“Surprise!” Everyone cheered.

Rose gasped. Her eyes were filled with wonder as she saw what her living room had become.

Rainbow lights and glittery streamers filled the ceiling. Colorful balloons and roses of all colors were everywhere. In the center of the coffee table was a cake with candles that became aglow once she turned the lights on. A wonderfully designed unicorn figurine with roses in its mane and tail set on the cake.

“Oh... oh, it’s beautiful!” Rose cried, tears of joy filling her eyes. “Oh, I’ve never seen anything like it before!”

Charlie beamed and pulled a pink dress over her nightgown. She hugged him and kissed him on the lips, cheeks, nose, and forehead.

“How did you all do this?” She asked.

“I dreamed it, like I do everything... well, not everything, as you are far too beautiful to be dreamed from me.”

She blushed and hugged him even tighter. “You are the sweetest man I’ve ever known. I am so happy to know you, be with you and have all these little ones to raise with you.”

The children rushed to her and she gave them as many hugs and kisses as she could give.

“Look outside, and you’ll see the party goes beyond this room,” Charlie said.

Rose opened the front door and was taken aback. Christmasland was covered in more roses, balloons, glitter, and rainbow lights. Amongst it all, the rainbow unicorns from Charlie’s zoo played in the snow together, free to roam from their usual enclosure.

“It’s all in your honor, my dear.” Charlie laid a kiss on her head.

She could speak no words, just gaze in amazement as the children ran outside to play. Charlie and Rose did the same, and for the rest of the day, they played and occasionally stopped to eat. Rose did her best to keep it together, but surprisingly, no ill feelings or forgetful spells came to her. Perhaps because her body knew that it was only one last day until her body would be immune to all ailments, so it needed to use the last of its strength. Or because happiness was her best medicine in the moment. She couldn’t tell which.

By the end of the day, they had gathered back inside, she blew the candles on the cake, and they began to eat some of it. The time had come where they needed to go to bed so that their mother’s transformation could occur. She read them her favorite bedtime stories before they all got too tired to stay awake. She and Charlie kissed them all good night and closed the door, knowing that would be the last time they’d ever see her in her old form.

When they entered the room, the couple closed their door and the fireplace kicked on thanks to Charlie’s abilities. Rose laid on the bed and sighed.

“Today is one of the best days of my entire life,” she said. “I have you and the babies to thank for that. You have made my human days very special, and you will make my vampire ones the same.”

Charlie laid next to her. “You have made my days very special, and you have made the babies’ days very special. We have you to thank for that.”

They exchanged a kiss before Rose sat up. “Well now... are we ready?”

“Are you ready is the more important question.”

“I think I am,” she said. “Words cannot describe how wonderful this day has been from start to finish. It is a day I will cherish forever. And before my sicknesses get to me... I shall end my humanity and ring in my new vampirism on the happiest note possible.”

She looked at herself in a mirror nearby as she slipped her dress off. “Oh, my dear human body. You have seen so much since the moment I was born. And yet, here we are. You won’t be the same ever again, and you will be improved in ways unimaginably amazing, but I hope you know how much I appreciate you. Even when I’ve experienced self hatred, I was always thankful for you. I hope you love this new form.”

She turned back to Charlie and laid back down. “I guess this means I’ll get to eat people with you guys. The right ones, of course. And fangs, nails, a new body temperature... That should all be an interesting experience. And I can’t wait to see what using similar if not exact abilities like you will be like... this will not only be the next chapter in my life, but will be a bonding experience that will bring us all closer together, I think.”

“I agree, my love,” he said. “I agree.”

The two snuggled close together.

“Thank you for doing this, sugar pop,” she sighed. “What would I do without you?”

“What would I do without you is the bigger question,” he chuckled. “I will always love you.”

“I’ll always love you too.”

He leaned into her ear. “Are you ready at this moment?”

“Yes.” Her voice had some nervousness in it, but the confidence outweighed it in ways immeasurable.

“Lift up your chin so I may see your neck.”

She did as she was told. Charlie gazed upon it and his fangs came jutting out, an energy boiling within him.

“Good bye, old life,” Rose whispered with peace. “May our memories live on for all of immortal eternity.”

“Welcome to your new summer to blossom, my June Rose.”

Charlie slammed his fangs down upon her neck, an energy force emitting from the two bite marks. She gasped and her eyes widened. A foreign, but comfortable and oddly familiar sensation came over her. She clutched onto his back as blood dripped down from the bite marks. They glowed a white-blue color.

As the sensation consumed her, she felt as if she was traveling back in time. Every few seconds was another year she felt healthier and younger. It took her a moment to register that’s what that was, but when she saw her face in Charlie’s eyes... she could confirm her wrinkles were fading.

She looked at the arm she could see most clearly. Her wrinkles had dissipated and the fat had returned. She was sure her other arm looked the same. When she looked at her hand, she saw her nails gaining a yellow tint. She felt them increasing in length. Once they reached the same length as Charlie’s, they stopped. She couldn’t see her feet or legs, but she could feel the same effect happening to them. Her legs and feet (and especially her thighs) gained back the weight they had lost. She noted that her pallor was now matching Charlie’s, based on how her arm and hand looked.

Her breasts, always large, plumped back to their youthful size. Her stomach had also returned to the cushiony potbelly Charlie always loved to rest his head on. As embarrassing as it sounded, she felt her privates tingle and somewhere above them, a burning sensation occurred. She thought about it, but considered that her fertility must’ve been returning. She was miserable on and off when experiencing menopause, but she supposed as a vampire, she’d be able to withstand any pains she might experience if she had periods again. In addition, she was sure Charlie would still find her menstrual blood as delicious as he did before when she was human.

Through the reflection in Charlie’s eyes, Rose could see her wrinkles had completely faded. The aged look her hazel eyes held flooded with a new look of old youth meeting for an eternal kiss after years of departure. Her face returned to how she looked on their wedding night, only a bit more pale. She grunted as her white teeth gained their own yellow tint and increased in sharpness. A group of fangs came out from behind these new teeth. Once this occurred, blood filled her mouth and trickled down her throat while ice cold breath emitted from her nose and mouth like a rabid animal. A warmth in her stomach made her feel as if she had drunk the finest coffee or hot chocolate rather than blood.

My God... this is why vampires crave this stuff... it’s got flavors in it that we can’t taste.

The dye in her hair had faded, exposing the natural grey. But it quickly disappeared as her natural brunette took over. At long last, she felt she could embrace her natural hair again. Even its volume, thickness, and waviness returned.

Rose had to fall back further at the sheer force from her insides. The blood that fell from her neck returned to the permanent bite marks and absorbed back inside of her. Cold chills consumed her. Her eyes, nose, ears, tongue, and touch nerves sharpened. The cancer cells in her body exploded like little stars until they were gone entirely. Every healthy cell underwent a metamorphosis that strengthened them and kept them permanently superhuman. Because of this, her immune system had reached powers impossible for the human body, destroying anything abnormal. Any sickness would be identified and wiped out instantly thanks to her new antibodies. Even her asthma had been erased from her lungs. From within her brain, the synapses snapped back together like a puzzle, and her memory was the clearest it had ever been.

I’m healthy again... Thank God, I’m heathy again...

Once her body was complete, a new sensation took over her back. She tried to jolt forward, but Charlie was still on top of her. He stepped back, as every ounce of innocence was back inside of her now. She lurched forward and leaned down. She could see her new legs and feet and her other arm, just as the other one.

Her back felt heavy. Something was weighing her down... something was coming out of it... something...

Unable to control the scream that came from her, two large masses of bone, muscle, and skin came from her back, perfectly ripping her nightgown, and extended to reveal... bat wings. Through the light in the room, the veins had looked like their own art piece to Charlie.

As quickly as the pain came, it left Rose and she laid back down, gasping and skiddishly feeling the new wings. Just like one’s arms or legs, she found she could move them like any other appendage. She flapped them, noticing they were larger than her. A small gust of wind filled the room.

“They’re... beautiful...” Charlie marveled.

Unable to speak, Rose stood up and stumbled. She found that her wings and heavier weight added some balance issues, but within thirty seconds, she had adjusted. She walked over to the mirror to look at herself more closely. Her toenails clacked against the wood, just as Charlie’s did. She looked just as she did when she was young; this time, she was pale, colder, had sharper senses, had vampire teeth and nails, a vampire bite mark on her neck, and very large bat wings on her back. She curled them up and extended them out comfortably. She flapped them a few times, and she found herself being lifted up into the air through the force of such gusts.

“Woah!” She cried. She let her wings die down and she landed as gently as she could on the floor.

She turned to Charlie, who stared at her with twinkling eyes.

“I guess I’m gonna need to make holes for these bad boys in all my clothes, huh?” She laughed. Her voice had largely remained the same, but this time, there was a youthful strength to it.

Charlie chuckled and beaconed her back to bed. “I suppose we shall. You look absolutely stunning, just as you always have. Only this time, your inner beauty is emanating from you. We shall see all of your abilities in the morning, especially since I’m sure the children would love to see you and your new talents as well. I’m quite surprised that scream didn’t stir them. But I believe your body needs a rest after the amount of change it had to go through.”

She nodded and crawled back into bed, right next to Charlie. They cuddled up next to each other. Her wings curled back up in a way that was comfortable. He rested his chin on her head and she nuzzled her face in his chest. Their combined warmth made sure they wouldn’t feel cold while sleeping. Rest had come easy for the both of them, and they found themselves sharing a pleasant dream.

Tomorrow would be the day the children would awake to be gifted with their healthy vampire mother, but even so, she would still always be the mother they knew and loved. For Charlie, she would always be the wife he knew and loved. For Rose, her new chapter had begun, and the dawn of a new era was ready to last for the rest of their eternity.

#nos4a2 #charlie manx #charles manx #nos4a2 charlie

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mrsjadecurtiss · 4 years ago

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Hiiiiii I know you've been bombarded with Roose meta questions recently but I'm writing a fic and having an INSANELY tough time writing Roose in a way that feels accurate or true to character. So I decided to consult the expert. What do you think Roose would be like as a husband? Because I keep slanting towards writing him like Stannis: cold, impartial, not affectionate, awkward, and emotionally repressed to the point of breaking his jaw from clenching if his wife were to initiate physical contact. But that doesn't feel right. I know you recently did an ask on whether or not Roose would be physically affectionate, but as a husband in general...idk I can't tell. It seems like he might have abused Bethany Ryswell, but Walda seems to be getting along just fine, sans Ramsay. Do you think he'd be emotionally open at all? Confide in his wife if he knew she was smart? Would he sleep together, or separate? Would he think of her as his property, or physically abuse her? I don't have a solid enough grasp on Roose to answer any of that in a way that makes sense 😭 sorry for how long and contrived this ask is omg. You do gods work on this blog💖

Hi! :)

You mean well, but it is a bit tiring to get asked so many questions to aid your fic writing (with anons i can also not tell how many were sent by the same person) - the sort of meta answers i do sometimes take me hours to write, and you asked a lot of stuff which would demand me to analyze not only several character relations/traits but also stuff about medieval society/westerosi worldbuilding...

I will try to answer some of the questions in a shorter manner:

1. It does not appear that Roose knowingly abuses his wives (as in, he would not treat them badly intentionally). Marriages are made for political alliances, and he knows the importance of keeping the person involved in positive spirits as to not harm this alliance. We see for example how he offers Theon (as Reek) fresh clothing as a show of goodwill because Theon as the heir to the Iron Islands is an important ally, and he berates Ramsay for threatening cruelty to Barbrey. Barbrey also lets Theon know Roose isn't happy with how Ramsay treats Jeyne. His current wife Walda is usually depicted as trusting her husband and having positive feelings towards her marriage.

Ramsay's face darkened. "If I cut off her teats and feed them to my girls, will she abide me then? Will she abide me if I strip off her skin to make myself a pair of boots?" - "Unlikely. And those boots would come dear. They would cost us Barrowton, House Dustin, and the Ryswells." - Reek III, aDwD

[To Theon:] "You must be cold. We'll put you in lambswool, soft and warm. Perhaps a fur-lined cloak. Would you like that? [...] Would you prefer to dress in silk and velvet? There was a time when you were fond of such, I do recall." - Reek III, aDwD

"The bride weeps," Lady Dustin said, as they made their way down, step by careful step. "Our little Lady Arya. [...] Roose is not pleased. Tell your bastard that." - The Turncloak, aDwD

Lady Walda gave a shriek and clutched at her lord husband's arm. - Theon I, aDwD

Roose knows to treat his allies politely, and would thus treat a wife with the standard courtesy worthy of a woman of her status. He would not want to make her despise him, because this could have a bad effect on his alliance with her house.

2. However, this does not mean Bethany or the first wife was happy with him. When he talks about Bethany, he doesn't use her name, calling her only his "second wife"; reflecting that he likely was not close with her and sees her more as property. He is a cold man, closed off and callous, and is not conventionally attractive either (usually described as "plain"), so while he would have acted in a courteous way towards Bethany there was likely little attraction, warmth or friendship between them, and she would have probably not enjoyed spending time with him much. We have too little info to tell anything in-depth about their relationship, but it could have been abusive towards Bethany, or they could have had a relationship more akin to distant coworkers.

3. Walda is depicted as having positive feelings towards him, and he states he is "oddly fond" of her. Walda is funny with an occasional mean streak, which could match with his own mean sense of humour. She is also a little bold and cheeky. Considering that Roose is also good friends with Barbrey, who is bold and headstrong, it appears he finds women with those traits sympathetic/amusing. In a medieval society, women are inherently less powerful; so he can find it charming if they are bold since it does not threaten him the way it would if a man did it. However, the woman needs to know her place, and it seems likely he would not be amused at all if he was personally insulted or the woman tried to rise above her station. If a woman was meek or boring or closed off he would probably just be courteous, but not be very interested in her.

4. He would likely sleep in seperate beds with his wife a lot of the time (this appears common in the asoiaf world, for example Catelyn also has her own bedchambers), though how often exactly that is likely depends on how close he is to her. We have a line implying he spent the night in the same room as Walda as they enter the Great Hall together, though they could have also just linked up before entering.

Roose Bolton entered, pale-eyed and yawning, accompanied by his plump and pregnant wife, Fat Walda. - Theon I, aDwD

5. He appears to counsel with Barbrey frequently in aDwD, so if his wife was a strong/smart ally with a lot of experience that he can respect, i can imagine that he would talk about important stuff with her especially when it comes to organizing the castle (which is a duty the wife traditionally shares). I do not think he would emotionally confide in his wife, both because of his general closed-off personality and because of patriarchal values that would demand a man act stronger than the woman at all times.

If you write from the perspective of the wife, try to read how he interacts with Barbrey, Catelyn and by extension Jaime to see how he interacts both with highborn women and nobles of his status. In my past meta i detail some more of his character traits.

Hope this helped! I think these are all interesting topics to discuss, they are just too many for one ask, so i tried to keep it shorter with the answers. I wish you good success with your fic!

#asoiaf #roose bolton #asoiaf meta #asks #anonymous

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soyeahitsmiddleearth · 5 years ago

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Perception pt. 1

The Company x Reader

I’ve always had the idea that, while men and elves seem to like the slimmer built type of women, dwarves and hobbits like theirs a little more curvy/voluptuous (whatever term you like). Maybe it’s all the eating and beer drinking that makes me think that lol. Anyway....the human reader would be confused at first about why literally the entire company is acting like major show offs. But, once she figures this out she uses it to her amusement/advantage. There doesn’t have to be a specific pairing, or you can pick one yourself if you feel like it. ---middleearth2asgard

---

Fat.

Ugly.

Pig.

These seem to be some of the favorite insults of those who didn't like you in your past life on earth.

The stereotype that every woman must be and look a certain way, be a certain height and have a certain weight, has always weighed you down heavily; and while you often pretended that it didn't hurt you very much and you did your best to ignore it, at some point you began to believe those things.

A person can only go on for so long hearing something before their beliefs change, after all.

Obviously, you're not ugly in the slightest, for all people are beautiful when their lovely on the inside. Not to mention, physical attraction is merely something based on opinion. Ever heard of the saying 'beauty lies in the eye of the beholder'?

In this specific group though, everything is a lot different.

Not that you particularly know it, but for them you've got to be the prettiest thing around.

Healthy is the way the see you, healthy, strong, and gorgeous, and that topped with you wonderful personality... well, they're done for.

Not all of them, obviously, because some are married, unaware, or just not interested, but that doesn't mean they don't like you or anything like that.

The first time Kili called you pretty, you got angry and told him to stop teasing you.

When his brother did the same a few hours later, you became furious and refused to speak with them for the rest of the day.

Balin asked you why you were in such a bad mood that night, and when you explained it to him he only smiled and shook his head, telling you in a soft and understanding voice. "I do not understand how you feel of yourself, my dear, but please rest assured that they were not teasing you. You're lovely."

Since Balin was the one who said it you kinda felt obligated to believe him, and so that next morning you sought out the sheepish brothers and apologized for getting so angry, though you offered no explanation to your behavior.

When Bofur called you lovely one afternoon, you didn't get as angry though you did deny it, mumbling something about your weight before riding off away from him.

Dwalin's compliment of you was more of a gruff, "You look nice today," and it embarrassed you and only uttered a disbelieving, 'okay' in response.

Eventually, you grew more used to the compliments given to you on your appearance, though you preferred the ones about liking your cooking or laugh more so since you could actually believe in someone liking that.

Little did you know, however, that your reluctance to have faith in their praises has sparked quite a bit of debate amongst them, and rather quickly did an agreement to show you how lovely you truly are come to be.

Another thing you've noticed besides the constant compliments, is the boastful and swanky behavior of some of them (like Thorin's nephews, Dwalin, Bofur, Thorin himself sometimes, and even sweet Ori to name a few).

Truthfully, you find it to be pretty funny. How they'll randomly challenge each other and walk around all big headed when they win one of those challenges, showing off their skills and boasting.

It's pretty funny though you don't really know why they do it, and you haven't really bothered to ask about it either so...

---

"Hey, Y/N!" Someone calls suddenly, capturing your attention from the conversation you were having with Gloin, "Watch this!"

You turn toward the noise and see Fili and Kili looking at you with matching grins.

As soon as your attention is on them, Fili pulls out some bite-sized dried mutton and aims as Kili runs a few paces ahead. Fili throws the food and Kili follows it with his mouth open, catching it perfectly.

A bright smile spreads across your face and you clap your hands a couple of times, "Wow! If I couldn't do better, I'd probably be impressed!" You exclaim, unable to keep the confidence from your voice.

Kili's bright smile melts into a frown and he furrows his eyebrows, meanwhile Fili just raises an eyebrow and asks skeptically. "You can do better?"

"I sure can. I can catch food in my mouth from almost any distance." You say as a smile spreads across your face, fondly remembering all the grapes and marshmallows that you've 'trained' with over the years. It's just a natural talent, really.

"You don't mind if I put that to the test now, do you?" He challenges, pulling off another bite sized piece of his mutton.

Oh, he really thinks he's gonna psyche you out right now? You are so about to put this mans in his place. "Not in the slightest! Hit me with your best shot, pretty boy!" You exclaim rather assertively.

You drop what you're doing and jump up to your feet, stepping back further a few paces.

"Wait, you're going really far." Fili warns, looking at you in perplexity.

"Are you afraid you don't have the arm for it?" You taunt, crossing your arms over your chest with a smirk quirking at your lips.

His eye twitches in annoyance at your teasing, but he only pulls his arm back to show he's ready. "Well, you asked for it."

You drop your arms back to your side and watch his hand carefully, and when he finally throws it and it sails through the air you keep your eyes trained on it the whole time.

As it grows closer you adjust your stance and position, and then you open your mouth when it's less than a second away and...

It lands right in your mouth!

You throw your arms up in the air and cheer, chewing the hard jerky while everyone else looks on in amazement.

Once the mutton is swallowed you smile brightly and drop your hands back to your sides, "I told you!"

"T-That was astounding!" The blond dwarf breathes, looking over at his brother with the same look of shock and admiration on his face.

Right before you respond a small voice in the back of your head whispers, 'Now they know how you got to be such a pig.' And the grin immediately falls from your face.

"No... it wasn't anything." You deny softly, walking back forward to grab your things.

Your sudden change in demeanor is almost as shocking as the hidden talent you just displayed, and as soon as you walk droopily over to the items you discarded they began to exchange confused and slightly concerned glances with one another.

For the majority of the day, you don't say anything else.

---

That night when dinner time rolled around you hesitated to eat anything.

In fact, you fully intended not to have anything at all if it weren't for the fact that Thorin approached you and reminded you that you haven't eaten yet.

Obviously, you cannot tell the leader of the group 'no' to eating like a petulant child, so you concede and get a bowl for yourself and, ultimately, give your left overs to Bofur despite him insisting that you finish your own food.

It was the same story the next morning at breakfast.

You kinda poked at your food, had a few mouthfuls, then gave the rest to someone else.

Of course, that didn't go by unnoticed either.

---

After everyone picks up on your odd mannerisms and realize that there's something deeper going on, they end up having a conversation about it while you're out bathing in the river away from everyone else.

"The lass has been acting awfully odd, recently..." Dwalin brought up suddenly while everyone settles in for the night, catching everyones attention in no time.

"She has, but does anyone know why?" Nori adds, his eyebrows furrowing.

Everything is quiet as they think it over, trying to find out what has changed.

"Maybe the compliments are bothering her?" Ori offers quietly, his head tilted slightly to the side.

Balin shakes his head a bit, taking a puff from his pipe before adding, "Yes, but she's always been rather touchy about acclamation and flattery. It has to be something else."

"Well, after we bet her on catching food in her mouth is when she started being all weird." Kili pipes up, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Or at least, it developed more. She's never refused dinner before."

Thorin listens along quietly, occasionally taking a puff from his briar while he too tries to figure it out.

"Let's put all of our facts together, hows about?" Balin suggests, leaning forward a bit. "She refuses to accept compliments on her appearance, she expresses a skillset and shuts down, and she won't eat properly."

Once more there is silence as they consider the facts, and then Bilbo adds, "The food catching skill, right?" He sounds like he's onto something, and the brighter of them see what he's getting at.

Balin nods his head slowly, stroking his beard gently, "Yes...," he begins, "Well, this is less concerning than I thought. I was worried she was sick, at first."

Thorin nods his head, putting his pipe down as he leans forward and finally speaks, "As was I. It's still bothers me though..."

"What? What bothers you?" Bofur asks, looking between those who seem to understand what's going on.

"I don't get it either." Kili adds, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"The lass doesn't value herself, my boy." Balin explains in a quiet voice, his expression grim.

"Oh..."

"Well what are we going to do about it?" Fili asks, crossing his arms over his chest with his own pipe hanging from his hand.

"There isn't much we can do other than show our appreciation and express our disagreement with her self evaluation." The older dwarf explains.

Everyone nods, and at that moment they decide the best course of action is to prove you otherwise.

#thorins company #tolkien #the hobbit fanfiction #kili #fili #the company of thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield #bilbo #bilbo baggins #fili x reader #kili x reader #bofur x reader #bofur #bilbo x reader #thorin x reader #dwalin x reader #dwalin #the company x reader

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legendoftheghost · 5 years ago

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NSFW Headcanon: Jin Sakai

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Jin believes practicing aftercare will naturally develop closer, more intimate bonds with his partner. After sex, he is particularly vulnerable; they’re naked, they have (hopefully) just had an orgasm, and one of the most intrinsic need for him is that need to ensure that positive state of mind continues. Everyone feels good when he knows his partner cares for him, and what better way to show it than tending to his partner when they both are in a vulnerable post-sex state of mind? Jin is especially susceptible to the post-coital blues, and even when he is seemingly highly independent, somewhat repressed and distanced with expressing emotions, I think this will be the perfect time for him to take a plunge and attempt to cuddle and engage in deeper conversations.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His entirety? Despite his fears of failure and flaws on his body, Jin Sakai is a man comfortable in his skin. From the crown of his head to the end of his toe, Jin Sakai has a body of a seasoned warrior; as a disciplined samurai, he had learned not only martial arts, but swordsmanship, horse riding, hunting, how to survive in the wilderness with bare essentials, and he literally has zero ounce of excessive fat on his body.

He’s not the strongest, biggest warrior, a powerhouse who can dominate and overwhelm enemies with brute strength, but he’s compact, sculpted with enough muscle definition, and corded with lean strength that only comes from meticulous care. Younger Jin used to hate the scar that would continue to bleed and bruise due to excessive bullying, but now that he is the Ghost, he thinks it only gives him character. After all, scars build character. And out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars, and Jin Sakai is a prime example of one.

Jin isn’t very particular when it comes to his partner’s favorite body part, but if his partner has anything that contrasts Jin’s own, he would obsess over that and touch him/her over and over. It could be the sensuous curve of the woman’s narrow waistand widening hips, the budding swell of her breasts and slender neck, or another man’s expansive chest and strong arms and legs embracing and cradling him.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He doesn’t like the mess, and would prefer if he came inside his partner, but the one thing he finds it extremely appealing is coming on his partner’s stomach.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Jin loves talking about sex with partners, friends, whoever. To him, sex in essentiality is a fascinating subject that's different for each individual yet common to people all (in some way), and he finds it endlessly depressing that it's a taboo subject.everybody (for the most part) needs sex and wants to have sex, so Jin believes that people should be able to talk about it openly, and he will sass and awkwardly joke and humor with insinuations of sex in normal conversations.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He snuck into Clan Sakai and Shimura’s personal archive / library and would sneak in some erotic illustrations of the time in curiosity. Despite the general lack of experience and focusing on his strenuous trainings, he would have fulfilled some curiosity of sexual exploration through masturbation and through secretive excursions with Ryuzo.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

His preferred positions are; The Victory position, Doggy Style, Shoulder Hold, Lifted Missionary, and Lotus

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Appearing too serious is Jin Sakai’s greatest flaw; being too serious which is Jin’s principal trait doesn't seem like such a bad thing, but it could create some issues regarding sexual explorations.

Social anxiety.

Perfectionism.

Social awkwardness.

Fight or Flight responses to most things (Can't laugh inconveniences off or smoothly escape conflicts because of over seriousness, which is likely to do the opposite, in other words escalate minor conflicts to big ones).

Overthinking and not living in the moment.

Not having fun due to exaggerated thinking about the consequences.

Jin may be a sassmaster and likes to throw in some dry humor in between, but that’s his coping mechanism to lesson and ease his insecurity and stress that stems from even the sexual act itself, but in the act, he’s deadpan serious.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Judging by the full thatch of his beard, I’d like to think that he’s pretty thick and ample down there as well, peppered with hair below his belly button, and a nice, sizable thatch of his pubic hair.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Jin does crave intimacy during sex, and this is something which becomes very important to him. Jin is at his most vulnerable, candor, raw, and open, and if it’s not a casual sex only to fulfill the needs to get off than anything else, Jin still needs and wants to build some sort of friendship or connection beforehand. Their sexual performance is then more about action than it is about emotions and deeper layers of intimacy, and with more deeply-connected intimacy, he would rather focus on both the physical and mental connection, which could make it much difficult to come with him. Regardless, he is tender, and will attempt to initiate; especially stroking his partner’s back, the side of his/her face, raking through his/her hair, etc.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Jin likes the stop-squeeze technique, which is a form of ejaculatory control. It allows him to near the point of climax and then back off suddenly by holding the tip of the penis until the sensation subsides. He likes to do this multiple times to make his orgasm much more intense. While it could be a tedious or time-consuming practice, he likes that explosiveness and exquisite high he gets from it.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Shibari (kinbaku), aka rope sex: Contrasts are central to Shibari: intricate geometric patterns with the natural curves of the body, rough rope against soft skin and vulnerability side by side with strength. The practice can also lead to a trance-like experience for the tied partner and a rush of adrenalin for the artist, or rigger.

Erotic Asphyxiation (breath play): This type of sexual activity involves intentionally cutting off the air supply for you or your partner with choking, suffocating, and other acts. People who are into breath play say it can heighten sexual arousal and make orgasms more intense.

Dirty Talk: Jin can have a little trouble getting out of his own mind. However, in this case, it’s less about being able to connect to the body than it is a fear of letting go. A little dirty talk goes a long way in making him forget his fears and let loose.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Taking in consideration of his fugitive life, it would be somewhere relatively hidden and private. Especially in nature; against the tree trunk, near the lake or an ocean when the weather accompanies Jin’s mood, and empty, abandoned houses.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Jin is almost always turned on, and has higher than normal sex drive. He’s one of those who craves intimacy and wants to share himself with someone special, even though it doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t participate in any given opportunities when they are presented. It can feel like a chore and not really something he wants to waste their time or energy on if they cannot converse well to begin with. There must be underlying honesty and genuinity in order for Jin to at least partake in a casual sex.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Cockiness – specifically unwarranted arrogance accompanied by a smug attitude. Lack of a sense of humor – unless they’re the one dishing it out. Flaking – because flakes are some of the most unappealing individuals to build any type of relationship with. Being goalless and content with life — having zero aspirations for the future. Liars – but not even about significant stuff. Just unnecessary lies, made up stories and exaggerations when a fib is pointless. Vulgar language finding its way into every, single, sentence spoken. Baseless cattiness, malicious comments and disdain toward others. Humiliation and degradation. BDSM for BDSM’s sake without exploration, caution, and mutual respect.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He’s much more inclined to receive than give. While Jin lacks the scope of experiences, he is skilled with his tongue, very attentive, considerate, and careful to observe his partner’s reaction. Because he is a perfectionist, he will attempt his absolute best to pleasure his partner and send him/her over the edge. He expects the same when he’s on the receiving end.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

The act in itself is viewed essentially as a series of steps to his and his partner’s mutual satisfaction. It entirely depends on their shared needs. As a dominant top, Jin is likely to be a very passionate lover, focused on the connection he gains from this experience. He does appreciate and sees how much closer sex can bring him to someone he loves, and would rather be patient waiting for the right person to share this with, because for him to reach this step, it would have taken a lot of trial and error. He definitely likes things to built up towards the climax, exploring different positions to find their needs satisfied.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Jin actually prefers quickie, because it offers a much-needed opportunity to relieve stress, strengthen a relationship, and get off at a time when intimacy, connection, and, well, time, are luxuries (especially with him on the run). Prefers mutual masturbations, than penetrative sex.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Jin is likely to be a very passionate lover, focused on the connection he gains from this experience. He sees how much closer sex can bring him to someone he loves, and would rather be patient waiting for the right person to share this with. If he’s in a long-term relationship, he will be more than willing to experiment and take risks. It all depends on their shared interest, and Jin would be open to try everything at least once.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

From his strenuous training as not only as a samurai, but as the Ghost on the run, Jin has extremely high stamina and will be able to go on for more than a few rounds if his partner is up for it.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Occasionally will use Geisha balls / beaded necklaces for added pleasure, mostly one another in reciprocated masturbations.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He isn’t very good at teasing, unless it’s with words. He is rather straightforward with his actions, because he doesn’t like to deceive with his affectionate, tender touches.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

On the quiet side, and for most of the lovemaking, he will make soft, gentle moans that turn into animalistic grunt when he’s on the verge of orgasm.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Perhaps one of the simplest, yet most potent sexual fantasies Jin has is just having his partner direct the sex script for the night. Whether it's a full-on dominant or simply a partner who knows what he or she wants and how to get it, he finds the thrill of a confident and sexual partner to be very appealing.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He is uncircumcised, his shaft is curved slightly upward, with veins that snake along the underside. His member is longer than average (around 13cm when erect) and has considerable girth (9 centimeters when erect).

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Jin has rather active sex drive. It’s not a particularly powerful sex drive, for he could always resort to, and might prefer his own imaginations. His inner minds are rather rich place, and he doesn’t always feel like outwardly expressing this side of himself.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

All depends on Jin’s condition on that day; judging on the Ghost’s life (on the run, essentially a fugitive ronin), and a slew of traumas and PTSD trailing his back, Jin Sakai suffers from insomnia. While he has high stamina and could go for more than a couple of rounds when he’s in a particularly frisky mood, but one intense round could have him knocked out exhausted. He’s a kind of a guy that sneaks in sleep whenever and however it comes, so he would let himself fade away for an hour or two, before he’s coaxed to awake.

#▬▬ι═══════ﺤ || the storm of clan sakai (headcanon)#(nsfw)#jin sakai #ghost of tsushima #(compiled into one large post)

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mysterious-prophetess · 4 years ago

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Review: Red Shoes and the Seven Dwarves

It’s finally out in my region so I was finally able to get my hands on it to watch without risking my computer.

Not that I would resort to such....less-than-legal means... <.<

Anyway, I’m glad I did buy it officially. It was every bit as cute as I thought it would be after I saw the new round of trailers and comments by others on tumblr.

I’ll give my spoiler free thoughts now and go into more details under a read more.

So first, I have to compliment the animation. It is so beautiful. The characters all looked great and none of them looked uncanny at all. My favorite character design of the humans was Snow sans shoes, but Merlin in his normal form is a close second. It’s their eyes.

My favorite non-human character design was the magic mirror.

The magic effects were also nicely done.

The plot’s pacing was decent. There were times where it almost felt like they had built in commercial breaks for an eventual network airing from how some parts would cut to black and start a new scene. It wasn’t often and it didn’t really detract from the film.

The characters were all consistent and Snow White/Red Shoes was down right relatable for me. Merlin and the other six Princes were fun and played off one another, though the trio of Pino Noki Kio almost felt like they didn’t need to be three characters since they never acted independent of one another. Whereas Jack, Hans, Arthur, and Merlin all had their own distinct personalities.

Even the Evil Queen had some good moments.

Prince Average felt like an after thought.

The moral of the story, while done before and nearly to death, was given a fresh spin in this film.

Over all this film is charming and the marketing team that screwed them over with the fat-shaming like ad campaign should never be hired by these guys ever again. There is no fat shaming in this film directed at Snow White/Red Shoes.

The lesson is instead a good one.

I heartily recommend people watch this movie. There are some semi-Shrek like elements on occasion (like out of place pop culture references) but overall the film has its own identity.

Another nitpick aside from the weird commercial breaks that kept seeming to happen and that’s the over use of the movie’s main pop song. I liked it the first time but after a few other reuses it started to get a little stale.

Otherwise I loved the music of the film.

Snow White’s journey was one that I loved. She had one mission and one mission only: find her father. In fact her desire to be herself contradicted the shoes magic. She was perfectly happy as her normal self and not the magic enhanced version the shoes transformed her into. That’s a powerful message to send to girls who aren’t skinny or traditionally pretty. Though, Snow White is down right adorable as her true self.

I also liked that the perfectly pretty form wasn’t something Snow White necessarily liked but was willing to use to her advantage to help find her father. I also liked that it had drawbacks as Snow White in her normal state was actually a physically strong woman but as a dainty pretty girl all that strength she had and liked having was gone. Furthermore, the movie showed that Snow White was decently athletic as her real self, which was a refreshing take for a heavier character. Large doesn’t equal flabby, weak, or out-of-shape.

Snow White’s struggles with taking off the magical shoes were reflective of the times where she got insecure about herself. Despite loving who she was, she did sometimes accept the pretty dainty form because of how much nicer people were.

The Magic Mirror was surprised she could even take them off because it meant there was something she wanted more than being pretty. The first time, at Risky Rock in the Fearsome Seven’s house, it was her desire to be herself. In the alleyway, it was a desire to escape the goons. In the river it was her desire to save Merlin. Yet, whenever she wanted to take them off other times, things had happened to make her hesitate on giving up the conventionally pretty form that had made it so others would help her.

As someone who is not conventionally pretty and definitely not skinny, I really empathized with Snow White about this.

On no occasion was Snow’s true self ever treated like a joke. There was the scene after she’d taken the shoes off where guards were harassing her where it almost looked like Merlin and Arthur would ignore her peril because she wasn’t her Red Shoes form, but Merlin came back and helped her. He was even kind of nice to her.

Never even when Merlin finds out about the shoes versus her real form does he call her ugly or make comments about her weight despite being still kind of fighting his own ego while learning the lesson at this point.

Speaking of Merlin (and the others of the F7).

Merlin being the main male protagonist does get the most screen time. Arthur get the second most. Then Hans and Jack, and then the Pinocchio Trio.

At first their dynamics were all clashing and Arthur seemed like a bully and Merlin seemed like a very shallow impulsive jerk. Let’s be clear, all the guys are shallow. Even the trio who are more obsessed with their inventions half the movie. It’s what got them cursed by the fairy princess in the first place. Considering it was a fairy they pissed off, being turned into green dwarves when anyone (who isn’t a magical creature) looks at them was actually getting off mild.

I was surprised that each Prince actually has to break their curses one at-a-time. It’s not a “break the curse for one and you save all” which was a new take on a collectively applied curse. Which was why they were every-dwarf-for-them-selves when it came to trying to woo “Red Shoes” and get a kiss from her.

Merlin’s character journey was one that is usually reserved for the curse breaker in fairy tale movies where a curse indeed is in play. In that he was the one who had to learn to look past appearances. I love that Snow White calls him out on that at one point in the movie too.

Merlin learning to let go of his obsession with looks (his own included) was what allowed him to see Snow White as the most beautiful woman in the world (in his eyes) which was what let her second kiss at the end break his curse. Because he saw her inner beauty which mattered more than any physical appearance she had.

The characters grew and them ending up together at the end felt natural and not forced because the time they spent together always felt like they had chemistry which is hard to pull off.

Moving on to other things: Regina, Magic Mirror, and Average.

Honestly? Average felt like a real waste of time. It was through his lines we got the most Shrek-like throw-away references, it was he who had the least impact on the plot, and he who could have been written out of the flick almost all together. Yeah, Merlin recognizing his tree-i-fied form did hint at what Regina had done to others (and it was after he and his two not-the-Stabbington-brothers-goons became evil ents that I figured out King White was that wood bunny because it was large and cute and that was the White Family’s designs overall).

Average was a throw away character. In many ways he wasn’t even mediocre let alone average.

The worst thing about him is he can be easily written out of the movie.

As the stepmother of Snow White, Regina is queen of the kingdom and all the scenes where soldiers go after Snow White and the F7 could have been her sending people to do her dirty work to spare her magic usage.

Average’s two goombas? Hired thugs who’d never seen Snow White before. Take him out, shuffle a few things around, make a captain character be his replacement in the attack on Risky Rock scene, and nothing of value would be lost in his removal. Average is the film’s only major mistake. He was a dead end that could have been easily written around and the screen time would have been better spent on Snow White and the F7 or maybe fleshing out Regina a little more.

Magic Mirror and Regina both played well off one another. Patrick Warburton as any character will always be an excellent casting choice.

Regina’s schemes made sense from a shallow perspective.

I saw someone compare her to Mother Goethel from Tangeled in a youtube comment on one of the trailers and kinda?

They had the same sort of vanity-wanting to keep their youth and maintain their beauty-and their penchant for cloaks was the same but, Regina to me....was more like Mother Goethel and Triss Marigold from Witcher 3′s fusion. Her younger form reminded me WAY more of Triss than Goethel as did her gown. Plus, it’s canonic in the Witcher-verse that sorceresses use magic to keep young. Also, she’s not the first evil queen of a Snow White retelling to even be obsessed with youth to the point she goes to extreme lengths to maintain it. See Snow White and the Huntsman’s queen.

Regina stands out as her own character despite sharing a name and role with Regina of Once Upon a Time. She’s ruthless, and able to manipulate others with either her words or illusionary magic (though it costs her like the witches from Stardust). She’s also absolutely cold. She just kind of falls flat compared to the Magic Mirror.

No offense to the voice actress or the writers, but up against Patrick Warburton’s Magic Mirror/tree character, Regina is a little less memorable to me. He has more sass and more pure threat to him than Regina does. Sure, she has magic that can turn people into strange tree monsters, but it’s the mirror that gives the F7 the most trouble throughout the movie, and they fought off something that looked to be a whole platoon of guards/soldiers armed with heavy artillery (canons). Granted, it was a close call that relied on their wits and other skills, but they still had less trouble with that fight than they did against Magic Mirror.

Some More Things:

The humor was nearly overplayed but they managed to tow the line between going too far and just right. Mostly this was seen with the F7 and their attempts to get Snow White to kiss them and break their spells, especially Arthur.

They did give him more of a character beyond loud bully, which was that he had a sensitive side and a lot of pride (which was easily bruised). In fact, only he and Merlin felt like they had characterizations compared to the other five. Hans was obsessed with cooking and Jack with jewels and the trio with tech but that’s all they got beyond having their friends’ backs whenever it really mattered and being awesome badasses. Since these other five were mostly side characters, this is more of a nitpick than an actual problem since the film was setting up Arthur vs Merlin for Snow White’s affections.

The fact that Snow White brushes all the attempts of flirting off so easily was very amusing to me and a nice way of showing how she was focused on finding her missing father throughout the whole film (despite the fact that she had already found him). Hilariously, in hindsight, she really had seen him in the woods. If she’d been herself, who knows if he’d have even attacked her.

Finally, I’ll end on what had seemed like an inconsistency but now I realize is a loophole because the fae have those in everything. The guys have to be alone or have the person they’re with close their eyes to be their true selves, except Merlin is still his true form even though he’s not alone with the Magic Mirror or the wood rabbit/King, or the three wood bears/children.

Turns out, once I thought about it, the fairy’s curse was if “people looked at them” which meant, the ones doing the looking had to be people and the wood creatures-despite formerly being people-were considered to be people no longer. The Mirror was probably never a person, which mean he’d never counted as a part of “people” so he could look all he wanted (which was his thing as a mirror). It’s an interesting loophole.

Long story short, I really enjoyed this film. It was very cute and it was done so dirty by its marketing three years ago.

Good film. Good messages. Go watch it! It’s not like we’ve anything ELSE to do at the moment (and it’s not like there are any other worthwhile films coming out right now). Support this film, and this studio.

#red shoes and the 7 dwarfs #rsat7d #red shoes and the seven dwarves #red shoes and the seven dwarfs #review #it's a good movie

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