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heartandfangs · 1 year

Text

HALOS, HORNS & EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN.

GENRE Roommate AU, Smut, Hint of Romance

PAIRING Jongseong/Jay x Fem!Reader x Heeseung

WARNINGS 18+ ONLY MDNI, Threesome, Cursing, Jealousy, Breast worship (what’s new), Making out, Oral sex (f!receiving), Mention of food, Light biting, Daddy kink, Role play, Cum eating/swapping, Unresolved feelings, Dom!Jay, SoftDom!Heeseung, PowerSub!Reader, HeeJay are pervs

SUMMARY After several long months of ignoring the angel and devil living across the hall, said roommates take matters into their own hands to please you on your special day.

WORD COUNT 4k

AUTHOR’S NOTE This one’s simple but kinda crazy?? ngl I REALLY got carried away with the wc for this first request, but I’m going to try and keep the others shorter so I can get through them quicker. Definitely felt less pressure while writing this for fun tho. Happy birthday 🪶 anon! I took some artistic liberties with your simple request lmao, but hope you and everyone enjoy it regardless (if it’s not ur cuppa tea dw!) 🖤🤍🖤🤍

See end for cont. author’s note.

Masterlist

After an incredibly rough week of work, you’d completely forgotten to switch off your alarm last night so you could sleep in for your birthday. It was your long-awaited day.

“The fuck,” You groaned before tapping the screen of your phone to silence the obnoxious sound.

Clambering and scurrying footsteps could be heard outside your bedroom and in the shared kitchen. A nagging feeling in your stomach told you that you wouldn’t be allowed back to sleep any time soon.

After about a minute, you noticed the sound of your roommates gathering outside your door— then knuckles tentatively rapping against it.

You pulled your duvet over your head and curled up tighter onto your side, refusing to answer.

Another knock.

It was more insistent this time, annoyingly so.

“What?” Your grumpy tone made it known that they were unwelcome visitors this early in the morning.

Please go away…

Jay, seemingly unbothered by your attitude, cracked open the door, surveying your condition before swinging it wide open to reveal a birthday cake in his hand.

Heeseung didn’t look any better than you in his black sweatsuit set and cowlicked ash-gray hair hiding his half-lidded eyes. Jay more than likely dragged him out of bed to help him prepare your surprise, yet he still gave you a smirk behind Jay’s shoulder and flashed you a peace sign.

With a mischievous smile, Jay strode to the edge of your bed wearing a typical pair of gray sweatpants and a black tank, his lean arms on display. “Morning, birthday girl.”

Heeseung made his way in and released a handful of red and pink balloons that floated to the ceiling; you’d think it was Valentine's Day or something. “Happy birthday, ___.”

Slowly, you dragged yourself up to sitting, keeping your blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You rubbed your eyes, “I can’t believe I sabotaged myself with my alarm today.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Jay balanced the cake in one hand as he kneeled on the floor by your bed and ran a hand through his pale blonde hair, “And well, now you just have more of your day to enjoy. But first, cake.”

Of course, they knew better than to sing. You sighed and stared down at the simple, pink-frosted cake piped with red dollops in a heart-shaped border.

In the center was written in red frosting:

u can’t pick ur dad

but u can pick ur daddy(s)

hbd!!!

You snorted and pressed a hand to your lips, raising an eyebrow at the two. Grammatically, it didn’t even make any sense, but you guessed it wasn’t supposed to.

“What the hell is this? Which of you—” You barely managed to get out, shoulders shaking from laughter as you eyed Heeseung and gave Jay a look of scrutiny, “Or should I even bother to ask?”

In return, Jay playfully swiped the pads of his fingers across the corner of your lips, effectively smearing a bit of pink cream onto your skin.

“Hey—“ Despite flinching, your tongue automatically darted out to sample the rich semi-sweet frosting, eyes widening in approval, “Mm!”

Jay chuckled and licked the remaining frosting off of his thick fingers, watching as you quickly averted his gaze, “I baked and decorated it. Obviously. But this guy stalked your Pinterest boards and saw something similar. So that’s how we got the idea, I guess.”

“Stalked? I just follow her,” Heeseung insisted, twirling the pink ribbon from a balloon around his finger. The two of them glanced at each other, and despite being touched by the sentiment, you paused.

While you had some pretty questionable content saved to the boards on your account, you definitely couldn’t have known Heeseung bothered to keep an eye on them.

What else did they see?

“Oh— how thoughtful of you,” You glanced over at the culprit, who suddenly found your carpet fascinating.

Jay cleared his throat and gestured the candle-lit cake towards you, its dancing flames taunting you, “Well, make your wish before the candle wax melts all over it, ___. Anything you want?”

“Hm,” You casually stretched your arms and shrugged off your blanket to reveal your gym shorts riding up your thighs as you crossed your ankles, “So if I wished for you both to leave me alone right now, you’d grant my wish?”

Heeseung untangled his finger from the balloon ribbon, blinking in surprise just as Jay’s shoulders slumped slightly, a flicker of hurt unexpectedly crossing his features. The blond pressed his lips together and stood to his feet.

“Well, if that’s what you want. We’ll leave you be.”

“Jay…”

He nearly bumped into Heeseung on his way out but stopped at the sound of your sultry voice.

Heeseung seemed enraptured as you gnawed at your lips and ushered Jay back with a simple look and tilt of your chin. The younger man’s gaze settled on the stretch of your thin cotton shirt over your breasts, and you felt yourself flush.

“I’m fucking with you both. Bring my pretty cake back.”

Both of them seemed to perk up as though they misheard you before trying to cover up how your choice words affected them.

Jay huffed at your smug grin, “Go on then, blow it out, princess.”

With a roll of your eyes, you leaned forward and blew out the candles lined along the top of the rosy pink cake, leaving a trail of smoke in the air.

“There, I made my wish. Thank you, boys.”

The last word seemed to grate on Jay’s nerves, with the way he haphazardly slid your cake onto your desk.

“Hey, be careful. Why wouldn’t you handle your hard work with care? I’m gonna eat that later,” You quipped.

“What was your wish?” Jay dared to ask, crossing his arms as he leaned back onto your desk.

That earned him a weird look from you.

“You can’t just ask her that,” Heeseung nudged Jay in his side and took the opportunity to sit next to you, the mattress dipping under his weight. Heeseung was a bit intimidating in size, but his proximity didn’t make you uncomfortable in the slightest— or so you liked to tell yourself. “We’re not done with your gifts yet.”

You faced him and leaned back on your hand, placing the other atop your thighs, skin suddenly prickling with goosebumps. “No?”

Heeseung couldn’t help the subtle smile playing at his lips due to the unnecessary but predictable tension between you and Jay, “We know the extra attention isn’t your favorite, but just for today, don’t fight it.”

“What do you mean? Don’t fight what exactly…?” You continued to feign confusion, feeling your heart thump erratically as Heeseung tucked your messy hair behind your ears and dragged his soft caress along your warm cheeks.

You felt a sense of adoration in his touch, those languid eyes of his melting into your own so you wouldn’t have doubts about what was to follow.

“This,” The manner in which Heeseung moved against you was gentle but confident, his moist lips capturing yours as though he didn’t want a second with you to go to waste but still knew he could take his time with you.

How could you fight such a sweet kiss?

Not long after, Heeseung began to playfully prod his tongue along your inner cheek before swirling it against yours, slowly dropping his palms down your delicate neck, then even lower, until he found your soft breasts. The squeeze of his warm hands around them sent a jolt through your body and tightened the knot in your belly; you couldn’t help but arch your back to press closer to him with an airy moan.

It took a second before you realized the gravity of what you were doing with your shyest roommate and steadied yourself against his chest. “Heeseung—”

Then you felt a rougher set of fingers hook underneath your jaw and steal you away from Heeseung’s kisses.

Jay stood over you and held you in place, pressing a frosting-dipped thumb past your lips, the flavor awakening your tastebuds once more.

“Suck,” Jay commanded under his breath, which was somehow more intimidating than if he were to shout it. As he pushed the pad of his thumb down onto your wet muscle, you obediently closed your lips around the knuckle of his finger and met his keen eyes.

He nodded approvingly, “That’s a good girl.”

It was common for the two of you to always give each other a hard time, but if he ever overstepped his boundaries, he always made up for it through an unexpected warm gesture or a home-cooked meal the next day once things had simmered down. He wasn’t as much of a hardass as he let on.

At first, Heeseung appeared to be the most laid-back and benevolent of you three, but you always figured he was more of a maverick than one might initially guess. It wasn’t until he started playing clever pranks on you after a couple of months of getting to know him that you realized you’d finally cracked through that bashful exterior of his.

Although the three of you shared an undeniable chemistry that allowed you to live together as roommates without entirely wanting to rip each other’s throats out, neither of them had ever made a move on you before— and you couldn’t have ever guessed they’d make a move on you together.

Were there signals over the months that you’d missed? Looking back, yes, that might’ve been the case— but you’d chosen to ignore them due to an inability to make up your mind. Perhaps that’s why things were getting out of hand; you’d driven the two of them up the wall, and they had no choice but to retaliate.

All you could do right now is try to make it through whatever they had in store for you… and somehow, you didn’t mind that.

“Hate it?” Jay asked.

Judging by your heavy eyelids and the sweet hum of your voice vibrating against his digit, he had an idea that it was quite the contrary.

“Figured,” Jay removed his thumb from your mouth with a pop and leaned over to pull you against his lips for a crushing kiss of his own.

He was all heat and didn’t hesitate to tug your lips between his teeth or shove his tongue against yours until you were red in the face, gasping for air and more of him simultaneously.

“Mmh— Jay!”

He gave you a haughty look and continued to make a mess out of you, ruthlessly nipping at your ear and down your neck, knowing that you enjoyed the roughness of his affection. It almost killed you when he slowed down a bit, eyes flickering open to stare at you with his forehead pressed to yours, breathing the same air as you.

Right then, you felt Heeseung mouth over the fabric of your shirt, gradually coaxing your nipple to hardness. With the moan you rewarded him with, he grew bold and pulled the fabric over your breasts to take the one closest into his mouth, suckling sweetly around it.

You swore your nipples had a direct connection to your clit because it pulsed against your tight shorts and made you sink your fingers into tufts of Heeseung’s dark grey hair with a whimper.

Of course, Heeseung would be the one to make you give in.

After seeing your lovely reactions to his other roommate’s ministrations, Jay promptly kneeled on the bed and caught your other nipple with his soft lips. You cried out as he released it with a smack, only to continuously flick at the tip with his tongue, sending you into oblivion.

The two boys worked in tandem to pleasure you, tugging at your delicate nipples and laying kisses on your burning skin, the delicious sounds of their mouths worshiping your body falling on your ears. How they had their own ways of going about it made you feel even more cherished by the two. This was the kind of gift that kept on giving.

“Oh my god, that feels so good,” Panting, you tipped your head back and squeezed your eyes shut, letting the pleasure wash over your body at being tended to with such enthusiasm. Your panties were growing wetter by the second.

“I told you she’d lose it once we started milking her tits,” Heeseung commented, reaching up to stroke your cheek with his thumb, “Like the feeling of getting milked that much, baby?”

The way Heeseung addressed you made your stomach do flips.

“Mmn, yes… You guys are fucking— ah— crazy,” You whined helplessly.

“We’re not the ones posting kinky shit to our public socials,” Jay deflected with a hoarse laugh, remembering something in particular he saw on yours that he liked.

He continued to suck and knead at your breast with the intent to make you swell under his touch, and by the time you were begging for release, he wanted you to be soaked through your little shorts.

With a bit of tooth and control, Jay gradually sucked around your areola until you let out a delighted yelp, in which he quelled your pain with laps of his tongue. He was extremely cognizant of how your hips twitched, inviting him to touch you further.

“Hngh— please, it’s not like I planted a seed in your minds. You were both perverts to start with,” You shot back despite feeling stranded in the fog of bliss, “Jacking off in the shower with my soap…”

Jay, in particular, froze at your accusation.

“I’ve used that brand my whole life and noticed each bottle went quicker ever since I moved in with you two. And then jacking off in my bed when I’m not home—”

You punctuated your slight annoyance by curling your fingers around Heeseung’s cheeks. That irked you a bit more than Jay’s shower antics for hygienic reasons.

“I can smell your shampoo all over my pillow, you know. Can you at least change my sheets out of courtesy once you’re done? Bet you wanted me to figure it out, didn’t you?”

The entirety of Heeseung’s skin above his collar turned a deep shade of scarlet, his large eyes shining from embarrassment. “Shit, uh. I-I…I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll even do your laundry for a month.”

“What, so you can steal another pair of my panties?”

Heeseung couldn’t hide his startled expression. A few seconds passed before a smirk made its way onto his flushed face, and he wet his lips. “‘Course not …”

Jay cocked a brow at Heeseung having been exposed to the degree that he was. Really, the two of them should’ve known better. Although the blond wasn’t sure if there were more things Heeseung’s done that you hadn’t caught onto yet, he knew that to be so in his case.

“I knew it all along,” You sat up straighter and stroked Jay and Heeseung beneath their chin, spreading your legs to reveal how your arousal had seeped through your layer of panties staining the fabric of your bottoms a darker, enticing shade.

With greedy looks in their eyes, both boys set their sights on the evidence of your excitement, saliva collecting under their tongues.

“So, how are you both really gonna make up for such shameless, deranged behavior?”

Heeseung felt his cock twitch heavily in his sweatpants at your challenge, knowing it was all your fault.

“We were just getting to that part,” Jay appealed, caressing his hand along your inner thigh, dipping closer and closer to your warmth, “___, trust me, you’ll forget all about our fuck-ups in a few minutes.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” You directed Heeseung to continue stimulating your tits by dragging his chin forward as you leaned back onto your elbows.

He peeked over his shoulder at Jay, who positioned himself between your legs, and it was evident by the dark glint in his eyes that he wanted to taste you as well. However, you judged his sinful shenanigans to be greater than Jay’s and instead jerked his head towards your chest, your free hand gripping your breast.

“C’mon, Daddy, make my wish come true. Milk my tits and pussy, I want it so badly...”

That was a first. Your words seemed to reset the two back in order; Heeseung’s breath caught in his chest, but Jay fell back into the flow of things quicker.

“Shit, baby. We’ll give it to you.”

You squirmed as Jay ran his hot tongue over the seam tucked between your swollen mound, his fingers tugging at your waistband to strip you bare.

Heeseung held your hazy gaze as he yanked off his top, tossing it onto the floor before diving back into devouring your breasts. With each messy kiss placed on your chest, your entire body shuddered, and Heeseung found himself groaning against your skin from how amazing it felt to finally gratify his urges for you.

It was so satisfying to make you moan nonsensical things while feeling your nails scrape along his nape and upper back.

Once Jay freed you from your shorts, all that was left was your drenched panties, which he took an even more passionate lap at, shoving his tongue against the dip of your entrance through the fabric but all too conveniently avoiding where you needed him most.

“Mm, Daddy… please,” You whispered with a gulp, spreading your legs even wider to lure him in, “Please make me come on your tongue.”

Jay’s eyes softened; in return, he pressed a kiss to the flesh of your trembling thigh and began to remove the last barrier of clothing that kept him from your warm, wet pussy. “Alright, baby. I’m gonna help you come so much, okay?”

“Mhmm…” You nodded.

Ah, it was so different to see him like this. He’d always spoiled you one way or another, hadn’t he?

If only you noticed how his cock was straining in his pants at seeing you spread so prettily for him while thoroughly enjoying getting your tits sucked.

“I haven’t seen a pussy prettier than this,” Jay commented, catching his roommate’s attention.

For a second, you were given a chance to breathe and merely collapsed onto the sheets, staring up at the balloon-covered ceiling as Heeseung leaned over your body to enjoy the sight of your arousal dripping down your folds.

“Fuck, it’s so wet,” Heeseung murmured, his eyes drinking up the erotic view of you from above as he spread your lips apart with his middle and index fingers. “Look at that drooly little hole. It’s clenching so tightly…”

Jay chuckled, and you could only whimper, feeling Heeseung’s breath ghost over your pussy. Hearing them talk about you so casually caused your face to overheat; you wondered if they ever discussed you behind your back like this.

“Think this pink little clit would like it if we suck on it?”

Before Jay could respond, Heeseung pressed forward and swiped his tongue across your swollen clit, fit his lips around the nub, and then sucked.

“Heeseung!” You jerked against his face and reached back to grip your duvet, feeling more wetness drip onto your sheets.

Heeseung had the nerve to snicker in front of Jay’s face before pressing himself back up at the sound of your needy voice.

Jay’s jaw clenched, but he hadn’t made a move to stop the other male since it wasn’t against their agreement. All he could do was sink his grip into your mattress, pissed that Heeseung had just stolen the first taste of you from him.

Well, he did practically invite him over to gloat before feasting on you. He just didn’t anticipate that it’d backfire; should’ve thought twice about that.

Little did you know it’d work in your favor.

“Mm, knew you’d taste like candy,” Heeseung hummed, clearly trying to hold back a smile. He tipped your chin up, his voice low and tender, “Give Daddy a kiss, I want you to taste yourself.”

You were tentative in doing so but eventually got lost in the sensation of sharing the taste of your arousal with Heeseung. It made your lips tingle, toes curling against Jay’s shoulders.

“Ah…”

Every inch of your skin became a magnet for Heeseung’s lips as he kept himself busy, rubbing at your tits, fully aware of the havoc he’d wreaked with Jay. He supposed that’s one thing he shared in common with you— getting on Jay’s nerves when he felt like it.

Oh, were you feeling absolutely dizzy now, and even more so when a plush pair of lips you’d been missing began to make out with your pussy.

You exhaled harshly and glimpsed down your body at the blond tending to your aching mound. All that softness previously on display was gone; Jay’s never looked more starved than he did now, grip fierce on your thighs whilst plunging his tongue into your pussy.

“Oh fuck, Jay—!“

He wasn’t messing around. With each heavy drag of his hot tongue on your clit, your muscles seized, breath growing shorter and shorter, your body on the brink of an orgasm.

Heeseung latched onto your tit and rolled your other nipple under his fingers, watching your desperate expression from beneath his lashes.

With the incredible sensations you were experiencing all over the pleasure points of your body, you were done for.

Jay reveled in the fact that you couldn’t keep your plush thighs from squeezing tightly around his head. He was just as attentive to your responses as Heeseung, his kisses to your clit pushing you over the edge as your eyes fluttered shut.

Shocks of pleasure traveled up your core, causing spasms throughout your entire body. The boys couldn’t get enough of your precious moans echoing off your bedroom walls, and Jay seemed to be enjoying your high as much as you were. You felt his moans rumble against your skin— had a feeling he was savoring every drop of you.

Heeseung fondly ran his fingers through strands of your hair strewn across the sheets while your limbs were awash with ecstasy. Despite your twitching, you felt Jay continue to dip between your thighs and gather your creamy release on his tongue. Shortly after, he crept over your body and reached for your jaw, his eyes trained on yours as you felt his cock scorch against your abdomen.

“Open,” He urged, and not a second later, you were mindlessly offering him your tongue.

Your cream dribbled from the tip of his tongue onto yours, like honey— and just before the strand could break, he sealed his lips over yours, stroking deeply and slowly into your mouth like he wanted you to blackout in his arms from lack of oxygen.

Oh god…

After all that, you managed to let out a breathless chuckle and offer Jay a bashful smile which he returned.

“So, did we somewhat make up for our shameless, deranged behavior?” He asked.

Well. You supposed you could say you weren’t nearly as put off by the secret perversions that took place over the past several months as you were 30 minutes ago.

You swallowed thickly, adrenaline still coursing through your veins as you pressed your sticky thighs together. “Yeah… a bit.”

“Just ‘a bit’ she says. Good thing we have more gifts,” Heeseung exchanged a look of amusement with Jay and kneeled by your side.

He began to stroke himself over the jet black sweatpants hanging low on his hips, brazenly shooting you a heated look as he did.

Without thinking, you reached out to touch him, and his large hand immediately covered yours, guiding you to squeeze along his thick cock and feel him up as you pleased. You just couldn’t get your hands on enough of him— either of them.

Heeseung clicked his tongue.

“Wanna open mine?”

—

A/N CONT.

Yay, I can finally add something to Jay’s repertoire! It was fun to see what naturally came out on the page for him in this fic, he ended up being Very Daddy. 😵‍💫 I actually started a femdom sub!Jay fic months ago but never got around to finishing it so I’m glad some other anons requested more of him lmao

I wasn’t sure if I’d like writing a threesome fic, but I thought I’d try it out– I didn’t hate it. A threesome tit sucking scene had been a long time comin 🤭 ANYWAYS Hee was a nice contrast to Jay in this as I’m still high off of him in NIIY. 🥰 This is also my first time writing in some aspects of a Daddy kink, but I’m still exploring it. Let me know if you enjoyed that aspect bc I know I usually tend towards more switch dynamics in my fics?

I was about to write a part 2, but I gotta get the other requests done! Also random but not, I feel like perv Hee is just a running joke in this fandom on here, so I’m just keeping the legend alive (again), he’s the official panty thief ™

As always, reblog, like or follow me if you enjoyed and check out my masterlist for more fics ⚰️🖤 It’s appreciated!

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one-httyd-a-day · 2 months

Note

Hello! I love your art so so much. The colours and shapes are beautiful and I just want to give all the dragons a hug.

I know you've already done a Woolly Howl (gorgeous btw) but would it be ok if you could do Wise Wind or Snoggletog Wraith.

No worries if not. Thanks <3

Wise Wind!! Is so!! Gorgeous!!! Thank you for bringing him to my attention, I had so much fun with all the little effects <3

Dragon #80 - Wise Wind (Rise of Berk)

(Took some artistic liberties with the design, hope that's okay! The reference images I found were kinda hard to make sense of tbh)

#httyd #how to train your dragon #httyd fanart #httyd woolly howl #wise wind rob #dragon 080 #asks #dragon request #thank you for the request! <3

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misc-obeyme · 9 months

Note

For the 1k prompt (which btw congrats) i would want to request that MC luck saves their life by axcidently summoning Michael

Hello there, anon!

So okay, this is just remnants of my 500 follower event lol. I haven't started the 1k event yet so I guess this is just a pre-event? Anyway...

I know I said any character aside from Mephisto, Raphael, and Thirteen, but I honestly did not even think about Michael. I wasn't expecting anyone to request him. I was going to say that I won't write for him, either, but then I changed my mind.

The thing about the other three is that we have some information on them and I feel like I know their characters fairly well except for how they are when they're being romanced. So I'm just waiting until they become dateable to start writing about them.

But Michael? We have very little info on him, just enough to get a glimpse into his character.

So I wrote this based entirely on my own headcanon of what I think he's like based on what we've seen so far. I described him, too, but again, that's entirely my own headcanon since we don't have an official design for him yet.

This takes place in the human world because I think if he showed up in the Devildom it would likely cause some problems. It also ended up almost twice as long as most of these little blurbs, but that's because I felt like I had to describe more than usual.

Anyway, I hope this is close to what you were looking for. I actually had a lot of fun writing it because I was able to take so many artistic liberties lol.

Thanks for the request!

GN!MC x Michael with prompt Luck

Warnings: well MC almost dies, but doesn't actually die so do with that what you will, also I would say a lot of making up stuff for Michael

You had returned to the human world for a little time away, to see your family and friends, to experience sunlight again. It was just a short time that you would be there, but you made sure to make the most of it.

And so you had decided to go on a little hike in a nature area nearby where you lived. It was a beautiful day and the sun was shining brightly that morning. It wasn't too hot out, so it was the perfect time to go enjoy the nature of the human world for a little bit.

You spent time in the Devildom flora, too, of course. But it wasn't quite the same as the familiar trees and plants of the human world. The sunlight streamed through a handful of white puffy clouds as you went, listening to the cheerful bird song, hearing the sound of a nearby stream. You pulled in a lungful of fresh air, thinking about how next time you might invite your favorite demon to come back to the human world with you. How nice it would be to walk this path with him side-by-side. To show him where you lived before you came to stay in the House of Lamentation.

You reached the edge of a tall cliff that overlooked a beautiful stretch of forest. Beneath you, you could see the tops of trees and the sparkle of a distant river. You took one step closer to the edge, wanting to see as much as you could, taking in the sight of the blue sky stretching out above you.

There was a hole in the ground right where you stepped and your ankle rolled. You felt yourself unable to stay standing, falling as the pain shot through your leg. You hoped to at least catch yourself on your hands when you hit the ground, reaching out desperately. But you were too close to the edge, the momentum of your body was too strong, and you felt yourself go over. Your fingers scraped the edge of the cliff as you went, still trying in those last seconds to stop yourself.

And then you were free falling. The wind was rushing past you, pushing on you, as you plummeted. Your mind was in complete panic, full on terror screaming through it, and you thought you might be screaming with your voice, too, but you were too disoriented to tell. You could sense a burning on your finger, so hot it made you shake your hand as an automatic response. But you still didn't register that fully as the fear overcame you.

You closed your eyes, prepared to hit the ground, prepared for pain at the very least and death at the very worst.

But you never hit the ground.

Instead, you stopped. It felt like you were suspended in midair. Your heart was still racing, your mind still screaming, but you could also feel arms around your waist and the still burning sensation around one of your fingers.

You opened your eyes and found yourself looking back at a man with large white wings that had an opalescent sheen to them. His arms were what you could feel around you. You could barely see his face because he was glowing so brightly - an almost blinding light. You looked down at your burning finger and saw a similar light radiating from the Ring of Light.

With a great flap of those mighty wings, you were propelled back upward. You felt your feet touch the ground, a little ways off from the edge of the cliff you had just fallen from.

The light dispersed from your ring, your finger no longer felt like it was being burned. The man who still held you lost his glow as well and suddenly you could make him out.

There was no doubt that you were looking at an angel. His eyes were like the eyes of all the other angels you knew, blue with a distinct halo shape inside it. But where normally there was gold, here you saw a prismatic shine of rainbow colors. His hair was long, cascading down his back in bright golden blond waves. His white garment was gathered at one shoulder, held there by a clasp made of opal and glass. His other shoulder was bare, half of his chest visible to you. A single gold chain hung around his neck. His wings spread out behind him, the pearly sheen of them glimmering in the sun.

You were mesmerized by this figure before you, but you were also still dealing with the adrenaline and fear of having almost lost your life. You found that at some point you had begun to grip the arms that were around your waist.

"Who…?" you managed to ask.

The angel smiled and you nearly fainted at the way it transformed his face, from concern to something that could only be described as beautiful.

"You know me," he said. "I'm Michael. You inadvertently summoned me as you were falling from the cliff. The Ring of Light let me know that you were in danger. It's lucky that I was able to leave the Celestial Realm in time to catch you."

Michael? The Michael? Well, it wasn't like this was the first time he had saved your life.

"Th-thank you," you said weakly.

"Are you going to be all right?" Michael asked.

You took several deep breaths before letting go of his arms and stepping away from him. "Yes," you said firmly. "I'm going to be fine. Thank you for saving me… again."

Michael chuckled. "I know you have no reason to trust me, MC," he said. "But I can often tell when you're in danger and I will intervene if I need to. My former brothers care for you very much. Please try to be more careful."

You nodded, still too overwhelmed with everything that had happened to form a real coherent thought.

Michael surprised you by reaching out to brush your cheek with his fingertips, his expression going soft. "I'm really beginning to understand what it is they see in you."

You stared at him, eyes wide, but you didn't have a chance to respond.

He smiled again, stepping back. "Farewell, MC. Until we meet again."

You had to shield your eyes as he began to glow again. He flapped his wings once, lifting into the sky, before simply disappearing in a glimmer of light.

You stared at the blue sky for some time before deciding you would go home earlier than you had anticipated. The fear of having almost fallen to your death was still fresh in your mind. And the feeling of that angel's arms around you persisted. You looked down at the ring on your finger and wondered just how much luck had been involved.

the original prompt list

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me michael #obey me michael x reader #obey me michael x mc #anon request #misc writes

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cypherverze · 1 year

Text

CHAPTER THREE

Hardest Part of Ending is Starting Again

an avengers x john wick crossover fanfic

You can access the previous chapter here: Chapter Two | Series Masterlist Access

PAIRINGS: avengers x teen!readers (platonic) , tony stark x niece!reader , john wick x daughter!reader , peter parker x female!reader

SUMMARY: After spending a day with Peter Parker, you had solidified the thought that you have indeed, a crush on Peter, but his words says otherwise. Meanwhile, Abram had already put out a contract for you, with a five million dollar bounty on your head, that is being taken care by an avid hater of your father.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hello! if you had manage to get to this chapter, i just want to say thank you for showing an interest or liking my fic. i’m not sure how many chapters there will be, but i’m planning on incorporating as well the timeline from either far from home or no way home. i’m kind of happy that there is already a progress with peter! i’m sorry if there are typos, i usually write my draft in the middle of the night, i sometimes accidentally sleep on it and i wouldn’t notice the typos until i had them already posted. also, i have until monday to post some updates, bc after monday i’ll be busy again so updates will be slow.

i took some artistic liberties, some of the characters in the john wick franchise have limited backgrounds, so i made up some backgrounds for the characters so that some details would make sense.

REMINDER: this is purely fiction, i had made fictional connections so that my fic would make sense. i don’t own the characters that are originally in both franchises. please do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 4,570

WARNINGS: foul language, mention of guns and knives, death, and violence

DIVIDER BY: @delishlydelightfuldividers

You had been woken up by the alarm clock, quickly stopping it, you’re already used to waking up early because it’s your routine, and you just easily slipped into the routine. You opened your eyes and stared at the ceiling for a moment, it has been four days now since you started staying with your uncle and his team at their compound and had an encounter with Tarasov’s men. You had been cooped up in your room yesterday, double checking everything in your father’s briefcase.

You turned to your side and Koda was laying right beside you and you gently ruffled his head. You let out a sigh as you got up from the bed, causing Koda to do the same thing. You went out of the room with him and as you approach the common area, you saw that the team were all suited up, guessing that they had been called for a mission.

“Where are you guys heading off to?” You asked as you sat down on the couch and watching them.

“We got called for an urgent mission,” Your uncle replied, “Not sure how long it will last but don’t worry, we’ll be back in no time.” He smiled softly at you.

“Alright then.”

“Don’t worry about being alone, I called Peter and told him we’ll be gone for a while,” Steve smiled, “He’ll check up on you, so you have nothing to be worried about.” He added and you saw Sam playfully winked at you, he’s teasing you again.

You grabbed one of the throw pillows from the couch and chucked it at him with full force, it landed on the center of his stomach, and letting out a small wince due to the impact of your throw.

“Come on team, let’s go! Let’s not keep the quinjet waiting.” Steve said with a command.

Each of them hugged you goodbye, not missing a teasing wink from both Sam and Natasha. Tony was the last one to leave the room, he hugged you tightly.

“We’ll be home soon, try to stay alive by then. Okay?” He cupped your face, and gently nod at him.

“No promises.” He sighed and smiled back at you, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Go be a normal kid for once, spend some time with kids your age. Spend time with Parker and his friends, they’re good kids, alright? I gave him your contacts as well, I hope you don’t mind,” You nodded and made his way out of the common area, “Stay out of trouble! Keep the compound in one piece!” He yelled.

“Again, no promises!” You yelled back.

When they had all left, you are still seated on the couch. While the team are gone, you had given a thought of staying at the continental for the meantime, and maybe you should. You stood up and went back to your room, you had finally made up your mind that you’ll pack up and stay at the continental. While you were packing up some of your stuff, you noticed the blood oath marker on the desk, it’s your marker. The sun was shining on it, small metal round object glaring at you, waiting to be used at your disposal.

The markers are considered to be the ultimate last resort solution for any favor. You had never given your marker to anyone, not one person, ever since you started this kind of job. Truth be told, you never saw anyone worthy on giving your marker to, if you can get out of the situation on your own, you’d rather do that instead of asking someone for help and giving the marker in return for the help that they did for you. You had learned it from your father the hard way, when Santino D’Antonio had decided to pay him a visit. Your father had rejected the marker, so by rejecting it, Santino blew up the house. The bastard may have gotten a bit too far, but it’s his full rights to do so. A marker is no small thing, but your father rejecting one? Well, look at what happened.

Santino had helped your father on his impossible task, no matter how much you hated that guy, he’s one of the reason why your father had been granted his freedom and lived a peaceful live with you and your mom. You hate to admit it, but if it wouldn’t be for Santino’s help, your father would have been still with the Tarasovs, he wouldn’t have you and your mother. You had thought about it and the repercussions that small object would bring. You would like to label it as a blessing or a curse, depending on the given situation.

It’s a small thing, but it brings a lot of weight. As what they say, for a person to grant a marker to another, is to bind a soul to a blood oath. Dishonor the marker, you die. You kill the holder of the marker, you die. You run, you die. So whatever choices you make against the marker, the consequences are always the same. That leaves you no choice but to accept whatever task that the marker-giver had given to you. So when you know that you can compromise in a situation, you compromise. Instead of ending up owing someone a debt.

You grabbed the marker from the desk and sighed. You threw it in your bag, you are always bringing it with you. Even if you don’t plan on giving it to someone anytime soon, if it falls into the wrong hands, it could also bring repercussions. You double checked your things and zipped your bag close. You went to the bathroom to take a bath, then changed into some comfy clothes. You’ll be taking out Koda for a walk today before you leave.

“Ms. Jovanovich, Mr. Parker has arrived, and he’s looking for you.” Friday suddenly announced.

“Thanks, Fri. Please tell him that I’ll be out in a second.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

You grabbed Koda’s leash and attached it to him. You suddenly thought about who’ll watch Koda while you’re gone. The team’s gone and you’re gone, You suppose that the AI can watch it for the meantime? You kind of want to ask Peter, but crossed out the idea. You don’t want to bother him that much, and you guys had just met. You are in no position yet to ask any favors like this, and he lives with his aunt, who might or might not be allergic to animals, or maybe just not fond of animals in general.

You went out of your room with Koda and head to the common area, where you saw Peter waiting for you.

“Hi, good morning!” You cheerfully greeted him.

“Hi!” He smiled at you, kneeled down and ruffled Koda’s head, “He belongs to you? Saw him yesterday in the compound, spending time with Mr. Wilson.” He stood up.

“Yeah, he’s mine. Well technically, he’s my dad’s, but got the custody right after he passed away.”

“O-oh, I’m sorry.” He looked down.

“No worries, it’s been a long time.” You smiled softly.

“So what are your plans for the day?” He asked.

“I’m gonna go take Koda for a walk and drop by at the book store, wanna come?” You invited him.

“Sure!”

“You can leave your backpack at the couch,” He nodded, “Hey, Fri! Peter and I will be going out for a bit, we’ll be back soon!” You said.

“Okay.” The AI replied.

“Come on, let’s go.” You both made your way out of the compound.

You are both walking, side by side, with Koda leading the way. It’s just pure silence, none of you decided to speak, just listening to the buzzing noise of the city and the honking of the cars.

“There’s a good book store few blocks away frow here.” Peter said.

“Oh, sure! Let’s go there, I need to buy some books.” You smiled.

“How come I never see you that often at the compound?” Peter asked, decided to make some small talk while you both walk towards the shop.

“I never really go there everyday, only quick drop by, once or twice a month,” You replied, “It’s just I’m really swamped with work, got a lot of stuff to finish.” He nodded.

“Will you be staying now at the compound? Since Mr. Stark mentioned that you’re planning on transferring to Midtown.”

“I’m only staying at the compound temporarily, though he wanted me to stay permanently at the compound. It’s just that there are things that I really can’t easily leave behind,” You looked down, “He told me to consider the idea, so I’m still in the decision process of it.” You chuckled and he nodded at your reply.

“We’re here. They don’t allow pets inside, but I can watch Koda for you!” He offered.

“Yes please. Thank you!” Both of your hands touched briefly as Peter retrieves Koda’s leash from you.

You felt a bit of spark when your hands briefly touched, there’s this feeling also in your stomach that you can’t explain. Peter flashed you a gentle smile, and you smiled back at him. You quickly turned around, and entered the shop, you can actually feel yourself blushing. You hope that Peter didn’t notice.

You grabbed a small basket and went to the section where they sell medical related books. You grabbed a few books, focusing on the human anatomy. You went up to the cashier and paid for it, returned the basket to its proper place and went out of the shop. Peter eyed the plastic that contains your books, and he can definitely see what the books are all about.

“That’s some interesting books you got there,” He said, “You into science?”

“Oh, yeah, kind of. You know, I love reading. Especially on the human anatomy,” You laughed, “Before we head back at the compound, can we buy some pizzas? I haven’t eaten yet. Let’s buy some and just eat it back at the compound.” Diverting the topic to another one, you can’t really go into details with him as to why you bought some human anatomy book.

“Yeah, sure. I know a place that you can buy some good pizza.”

“Okay then! Lead the way, Peter Parker.” You both laughed.

You didn’t notice that Peter was still holding Koda for you, you didn’t want to be rude in getting Koda from him. Besides, Koda is warming up to him. So you just smiled at the sight, your heart a little bit racing.

You arrived back at the compound, with Peter holding two boxes of pizza. You grabbed Koda from him and dashing inside as soon as you removed his leash. You both went to the common area, and Peter placed the boxes of pizza at the table.

“Welcome back, Ms. Jovanovich and Mr. Parker.” The AI greeted you both.

“Hey Fri.” You greeted.

You both sat down on the couch, opening the first box of the pizza. Been a long time since you last had eaten a pizza, due to you being in the continental a lot, so the food there are always proper meals. It feels good for a change, which is a temporary one.

“So, tell me about Midtown.” You leaned back and turned to look at Peter. By looking, you mean staring.

You can’t help but stare at Peter’s face. His cute nose, dimples, and cheeks that you want to pinch so bad, and lips that probably feels so soft. You are slowly memorizing Peter’s face—it’s a common thing for you to do, you memorize people’s face because of your job. But for Peter, it felt different. You’re memorizing it as a memory for you to keep. Your stay at the compound is only temporary, who knows you may never see him again. It’s a good memory to remember him by.

“(Y/N)? Hey?” Peter snapped his fingers infront of your face.

You had been staring at his face for far too long, you forgot to pay attention to him. Your eyes widen in realization, and it caused your cheeks to blush beet red.

“O-oh, I’m sorry! Was just caught up with something on my mind lately, but carry on!” You coughed, “So you were saying?” You turn your attention back to him.

“Midtown is pretty cool. I go there with my friends, Ned and MJ. Gonna introduce you to them sometime, they’re cool people,” You nodded, “And it’s a school for smart kids.” His eyes widened at what he said.

“It’s not that I’m saying you’re not smart!” He panicked and you just laughed at him. You never really notice the mistake on what he said, he just suddenly corrected himself.

“Hey, it’s alright. No worries.” You grinned.

“I-I know that you’re smart too, I didn’t really mean to say that you’re not.” You smiled widely. You put a hand on his shoulders, calming him down.

“I told you, it’s okay!” You shake him a little bit, “No need to explain it further. The further you explain, the more you mess up the words.” You laughed softly and gave him a small pat on his shoulder.

You find it really cute when he’s all panicky.

“I’m sorry.” He squeaked.

“Stop saying sorry. It’s okay, no harm done.” You chuckled and smiled at him softly. There was a pause between the two of you, a minute of silence before Peter spoke.

“So, uh, you’re Mr. Stark’s niece?”

“Yeah, he’s my mom’s closest cousin. They lost contact with each for a long time,” You leaned back at the couch, tucking both of your legs beneath you, and Koda resting his head on your lap scratching the back of his ears softly, “Until I appeared under SHIELD’s radar, and that is when I found out that I wasn’t totally alone in this world like I thought that I would be.” You shrugged, your attention still with Koda.

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re uncomfortable, it’s okay,” Peter said, “I mean it’s uhm, pretty personal.” He added.

“Nonsense, it’s fine with me, been a long time since it happened. So I have no problem with it.” You shrugged at him.

“You told me…told me that your dad passed away. May I ask what happened?” Peter directly looked at you, his eyes showing genuine curiosity.

“He died due to his injuries from work. He was supposed to be coming home right after his work, but he wasn’t able to take in the injury that he suffered. His body gave up,” You kept your gaze on Koda’s sleeping figure, “But I’m happy that he’s finally free when he did. No longer tied to anything or anyone, and he’ll finally be with mom.”

You looked at him, there was this expression in his that he wants to ask something. Peter wanted to ask about your father’s line of work, he wanted to ask if he’s an assassin.

“Yeah, he was an assassin. The best of the best,” You smiled softly, his eyes widened at you said. You had guessed what he wanted to ask, but hesitated, “The criminal organization fears him the most. He’s the kind of man that you do not want to cross or mess with.”

“What made you become an assassin like him?”

“Well, it was the one thing that my dad wouldn’t want me to become. But like others, I don’t know how to cope up with the loneliness, grief when he died. He was the only one that’s with me after mom died and we had each other’s back. I had felt this sudden resentment. Resentment for leaving me all alone in this world, the only person that is left in my life, had left me,” You chuckled sadly, “It was the only thing I can do to ease the pain. I see it as a coping mechanism, and turns out that I was a natural at it. So it stayed with me.” You smiled at him.

“Well if it makes you feel better, I’m Spider-man,” You laughed at his reply, “He gives me the confidence that Peter Parker doesn’t have. Maybe it’s because people can’t see or know that’s it’s Peter Parker, the awkward and nerdy highschool boy that goes to Midtown, that’s under the mask.”

“I know.”

“You…know?” His eyes widened, “how?”

“I have a knack for finding out people’s secrets,” You scrunched your nose, “There might have been a few things or habits that you usually do that you don’t notice that gave it away, but people can notice if they look and observed closely.” You smiled.

“Really?! Like what?”

“That’ll have to be a secret,” You teased him, “You have to find out for yourself.”

“Come on!” He whined and you just laughed at him. Peter kept on insisting you to tell him, but you didn’t budge. You almost did, but didn’t.

At some point, he finally gave up. You talked a bunch of random stuff, Midtown (again), and his friends. You are just there listening to him talking and staring at his face, however, you can’t help notice how the way Peter talked about MJ, how his tone would often change when you talk about her, and right then and there, you had suddenly felt that little pinch in your heart. You are really good at reading people, and it looks like he’s got a huge crush on MJ.

It kind of broke your heart a little. Yes, you finally admit that you have this silly crush on Peter, despite having just met him. Like come on, it’s impossible for you not to not like this guy. It’s his little quirks and cuteness, a little bit brainiac, that made you gravitate towards him, though on the other side, your rational side, maybe that it’s good that Peter has a crush on someone. Person like you, whose life is always on the line, you can’t afford being literally in love with someone. You and words like crush and love does not belong in a sentence, It’s dangerous for you, but not only for you, but on the other person as well. You know very well that Peter is capable of protecting himself, but those people that are after you, they would always find a weakness, an opening. They always manage to successfully find one.

You and Peter both spent the day at the compound, eventually after all the boring talks, mutually agreed on watching a movie together. He made you sit through an entire movie of Star Wars, it kind of peaked your interest, but not the same excitement that it gives Peter. It’s an okay movie for you, not bad, but watching it one time is already enough for you. You looked at your watch, and it’s already late in evening. Peter’s phone vibrated, notifying him that he has a text message. It was a text message from his aunt May.

“Hey, I kind of need to go home now. May just texted me,” He spoke as he looked at you, “I had fun spending time and getting to know you.” He smiled.

“Likewise, Parker.” You smiled back. He stood up and grabbed his bag, you walked him to the exit.

“Will I be seeing you again tomorrow?” He asked.

“Uh, I’m not sure. I’ll be leaving for a business trip, so probably not.” You shrugged.

“For how long?”

“I’m not really sure, depends if the work gets finished earlier than expected.”

Then out of nowhere, he suddenly hugged you. You hugged him back, but he let go quickly.

“I’m so sorry for that,” He scratches the back of his neck, “As a thank you. I’m happy that we met and I earned a new cool friend.” You just smiled.

“Hey, it’s no problem. You can call ot text me anytime, Tony gave you my contact, so make use of it. If ever you need some help, you know how to reach me,” You gently pat his shoulders, “Though I won’t be able to answer it right away when I’m working, but I’ll get to you as soon as I’m free.”

After watching Peter leave the compound, you head back to your room to get ready. You’ll be leaving tonight to go to the continental, and your bags are already prepared and waiting by the door. You went to the bathroom to shower. After showering, you pulled out your outfit from the closet.

It’s a suit, just like the one your father wore. But you made a little bit of a revision to suit your style. The classic white long sleeved polo with a black necktie, tucked in your black high-waisted fitted trousers, and some combat boots, topping it off with a black long coat for the final look then brushed your hair. Never forgetting in attaching some of your weapons in the hidden parts of your suit—some knives by your boots and both guns and knives on both side of your hips.

Grabbing your father’s watch and swapping it with the ones you use on a daily basis, you also put your mother’s bracelet on your right pocket, keeping it safe. Dusting off some imaginary dust in your outfit, you stare at yourself infront of the floor length mirror, sighing. You checked the room for any mess and there were none, you intended on leaving the room spotless, just like you weren’t there. Truth be told, you really don’t like making a mess, you would always keep a place or room clean. You grabbed your bag and strapped it on one of your shoulder, then grabbing the briefcase. You turned off the lights and closed your room, then you made your way to the common area.

“Hey, Fri.” You called out for the AI.

“Yes, Ms. Jovanovich?” The AI responded quickly.

“If ever the team arrives, please notify them that I’m away for a business trip. I have no exact date as to when I’ll be coming back, but it may take a while.”

“Yes, Ms. Jovanovich.”

“I’ll also be leaving Koda here in the compound. I already refilled his bowl of some his dog food and water, if ever he gets lonely, please give him access to my room, because that’s where he’ll gonna be mostly.”

“Yes, Ms. Jovanovich.”

You kneeled down by the couch, where Koda was resting. He was whining and rubbing his head on your palms, he knows that you’ll be leaving him again.

“Hey buddy. I’ll be gone for a little bit for a business trip. But don’t worry, I’ll be back soon. I’ll come back home early for you,” You smiled at him, you pressed your forehead on his, “You’ll be taken good care of here in the compound. The team loves you, they’ll be able to take care of you whenever I’m gone.”

“Be a good boy, okay!” You gave Koda a long kiss on the forehead and stood up. His whines broke your heart, but you needed to leave. You moved to pick up your briefcase.

“I’ll be leaving now, Friday. You can lock up when I leave.”

“Yes, Ms. Jovanovich. Good luck on your business trip and take care.”

“Thank you, Fri.”

You look at Koda one last time and smiled at him. You made your way to the exit of the compound. You’ll be taking the taxi a couple of blocks from the compound, that will be driving you to the continental. You began walking the busy streets of New York, completely blending in the shadows of the night.

Abram Tarasov.

Abram is a calm and collected man, he can be patient, he’s known for his wisdom, and has a group of loyal henchmen who carries out his orders without any questions. As much as possible, he doesn’t want to deal with violence, he prefers a peaceful negotiation, hence why he has a talent for negotiation, and also has a keen eye for profitable ventures. Abram works together with the Tarasov Mob Family but only on the sidelines, which had been previously headed by his brother, Viggo Tarasov.

Back then, their family was just a small-time criminal running a small-time operation. So when your father had managed to kill all of their rivals for his impossible task, the Tarasov Mob Family had quickly rose in power. So it was all thanks to your father that the Tarasov had accumulated a vast network of contacts, inside and outside of both United States and Russia. They had managed to operate illegal businesses and various fronts like churches, freely. But after Viggo and Iosef was killed by your father, he had took it upon himsef to take over and steer the mob back into its original course, picking up where it had left off. He can’t let an empire fall, it had taken them a long time to get to where they are now, especially not on his watch.

It’s rare for them to see Abram having an outbursts, and when they did, it is when he had learnt that his brother and nephew had been killed by your father, and all he wanted was to get a revenge. Though back then, he had accepted your father’s offer of peace when your father had paid him a visit in his chop shop. Nothing good will ever come out if he decided to come after your father for revenge, and it is wise not to poke the devil in the back by taunting him. But when your father is no longer in the picture and one of his informant had told him that you’re Jonathan Wick’s daughter, he can’t let this opportunity pass without getting back at you.

Yes, he feared your father, that’s why he didn’t bother on getting a revenge, but he does not fear you. You may be Jonathan Wick’s daughter, but to him, you’re just some girl who happens to be a daughter of Jonathan Wick. In his eyes, you are not good as your father, you are not worthy to be feared, and he is not afraid on killing a silly kid or some teenager like you.

“So you’re telling me that that girl had beaten my men by just using a pencil?” He’s voice was calm, but the emotion on his eyes tell you otherwise, as his men stood in front of him.

“Yes sir.” Abram took a sip of his bourbon and slammed the glass on his desk and stood up.

“You have one job,” He punched the man who spoke in the face, “One fucking job! And you let my men be beaten by a fucking girl! By just using a fucking pencil at that!” He kick the man on the shin.

“Вы все бесполезный сукин сын!” He went back and sat down on his chair, he turned to his assistant, “Call Anya. If there’s anyone that will be able to finish the job, it’s her.” He leaned back to his chair and closed his eyes.

“Sir, Anya had agreed to do it.” His assistant said.

“Good. Put out a contract for Anya, a five million bounty on Jovanovich’s head.” Abram replied as he gently taps his fingers on the arm of his chair.

“According to Anya, (Y/N) Jovanovich is staying at the continental.”

“Tell her that I will double the bounty if she bends the rule.”

TRANSLATIONS

“Вы все бесполезный сукин сын!” - you are all useless son of a bitch!

*** i’m only using google translate, so please excuse if there’s something wrong with the translations.

TAGLIST

@sirimiripetrichor @nimo-jay @preciousbabypeter @graysonmalik2550

#avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #john wick x avengers #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x wick!reader #avengers imagine #avengers x john wick crossover #avengers x wick!reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x female!reader #john wick x daughter!reader #tony stark x niece!reader #tony stark x teen!reader

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jacketpotatoo · 2 years

Text

A step-by-step look at my drawing process (commission edition) ✨

1) My client ( in this case @/brxkenvalley; ig) gives me their pitch and references. In this case, I was asked to draw their oc in whatever pose I thought would suit them and so I came up with these:

They’re very rough and I focused more on gesture and expression than getting the details right. I also asked them questions clarifying some of their designs and their personality traits (which is a really helpful thing for commissioners to provide so that the artist has a better grasp on the character)

2) my client then asked for C. with an altered expression resembling B. so I made minor alternations to the draft and they decided on the one on the right

3) After approval, i sketch out the character and I’ve taken to just cleaning up my sketch instead of doing lineart because that saves a lot of time

The annotations are me asking for some design clarifications because I wanted to make some alternations so that the piece looked better/more complete (esp cuz I thought straight horns did not look very good on the hat). The quick greyscale shading was just a temporary placeholder to separate the elements clearly. As for references, I use a combination of many from google and from pictures I’ve taken myself. For example, the hands here are based partly on an online reference, partly from my own hand, and partly from muscle memory of me practicing and knowing how to make a hand look like it makes sense

4) flats. This was tough because the reference I was given had the character’s whole colour scheme as similar shades of very dark grey and so I took some creative liberty to adjust the colours a little to make the separate parts pop out more

You can also see the horn fix and added details on the hat. Not much else to say except I stuck very much to cool colours for the whole thing to fit the character’s mysterious vibes

5) Rendering/painting. Everything prior to this was done on procreate but my brushes on Clip Studio Paint are just far superior so rendering was done there

This is what takes the longest and is where I merge my sketch and flats layer and paint over everything (with the help of the magic tool and lasso tool to select segments according to colour). I think it might’ve taken around 4 hours? I used a lot of different brushes to try and get a varied texture and when I was satisfied, I exported it back over to procreate for colour correcting using different layer types and their in-built adjustment tool. I also used an add-glow correction layer with an airbrush on the white parts it pop out more, as well as give the character a more ethereal look

6) I ask my client if they want any minor changes and if not, I’ll email the file to them :)

And that’s my commission process! I don’t do all of these steps when I’m working on personal art (esp the planning) but occasionally, when I have a clear idea for a more complicated piece, I find planning really helpful. I could also do a process thing for a background piece if anyones interested, just lmk. Also feel free to ask questions if you have any and I hope this was clear!

#haven’t done a proper comm in a while so it’s pretty cool to see the improvement #please don’t use the art btw!#jp musings #art stuff #commission #commission art

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naresnani · 2 years

Text

Annihilation

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire | Napoleon Bonaparte / Arthur Wellesley | Words: 3.2k

Tags: NSFW, dark au (see notes), rough sex, biting, bleeding, blood drinking, masochism

Summary :

Looking at the former Duke of Wellington, he couldn't call that final state the same thing as beautiful, but he couldn't find any other word more perfect for it.

Notes: So this is based on the... netflix castlevania-esque AU I thought up a while ago, which illustration can be seen here. You should probably check out that post first to make more sense of the setting. Anyway this was also written for the 2022 Napoleon Week event ran by @kissmetwicekissmedeadly (or @xxsycamore ) and Me, for the prompt of day 2 - Scar // “I can’t call this beautiful.” Taken A LOT of artistic liberty with this one.

Also, Mind the tags.

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A gash of lightning lit up the decrepit castle alive. Unlit chandeliers clinked above restlessly making a show for no one while the following thunder hums underneath the flooring. The foyer looked dead-still otherwise, as is always the case. The entire place seems barren no matter how much work is being done here in reality. It is still as hollow, still as noiseless, still as dead.

The only place something wretched could call home. Lord Vlad's lair. Desolate enough to not be disgusting. It's as good as one could get being the risen dead. Only the higher ranks could ever even hope to catch a sight of its towering structure. But there's really nothing all that exciting once you find it. A human might, but for him it's either this listless existence or the grimy blood-mixed dirt of the battlefield.

Napoleon remembered that he was human once. Sort of. And sometimes it's achingly obvious that he was still a bit of one.

Because all this destruction in the name of Vlad's revenge towards humanity blankets him in something indefinable. It's not even guilt nor bitterness. It's something he desperately needs to shake off to resume his path, but couldn't.

Total sensory and emotional deprivation was perhaps not how man are made to live. The intoxicating effect of violence to mend it just doesn't last long enough for him. Pain doesn't last long enough for him. Wounds and anger doesn't. Death doesn't.

Lord Vlad often laments that of beauty. Not everlasting enough, not indestructible enough, not his enough. Especially after humanity had taken away his love forever—burned at the stake for being his. Now suppose love and beauty is something he deems unachievable but desperately seeks for, and that desire is what made all the other great purebloods relegate him. He's too human. All too human.

Napoleon considered. Could what he's dealing with be something… a tad similar to that?

The entrance door behind him screeched an awful sound. The key's few clicks dislodged some of the vacuum that oppressed the place. Something else is now roaming the building.

By the sound of the staggered steps and the burning metallic stench, Napoleon knew exactly who it would be.

"Finished with your mission?" He turned back just a degree. He could catch the silhouette of a bowing figure, prowling slowly to where he was standing. It barely took notice of him until they caught each other's eyes. "I know I will always find you this way."

Blown out pupils, skin and cloth covered in blood and filth. There's nothing behind that window.

The former Duke of Wellington stared from that shadow. Napoleon thought this sort of fall from grace couldn't be more erogenous, this end result of evolution. He wished the remaining half of him would finally submit to that end—no more trace of the former human! But he couldn't find a way. He couldn't yet bridge this agonising limbo and be done with that ineffable emptiness.

Looking at the duke, he couldn't call that final state the same thing as beautiful, but he couldn't find any other word more perfect for it.

"I'll admit, I was waiting for you," said he.

The creature stalked, and finally lunged for him from that distance, crashing him into the wall before Napoleon could draw a knife off his holster.

He held off the duke with an arm against its throat and finally managed to fish out the knife. He boasted the weapon in front of it, chuckling as if threatening to cut its face open, before landing the sharp side across his own arm instead.

Blood spilled generously from the cut. He let the former man sink his teeth into the wound, suffocating his body further into the wall just to drink every drop of it. He groaned through gritted teeth in pain, but one couldn't let this Wellington stop drinking before it's over.

Seconds passed with lips sucking harshly on the wound and the duke hadn't yet gotten enough of it for longer than expected. He realised, Wellington wouldn't stop until he's dry.

With heart jumping frantic in his ribs Napoleon shoved him off with all of his strength, enough to send him tumbling hard onto the floor. As expected Wellington instantly stood up without a sweat, bent over as if he's about to retch.

He did just that with mouth opened as wide as it was able. Nothing came out of him.

"You… damn you."

The human voice that belongs to him. Raspy, quiet. Much younger than one would expect.

"... I knew it. It's your damn stench again. You've been doing this on purpose."

Napoleon’s lips couldn't stop their curve. Wellington spat on the floor and got nothing out but saliva. Not lingering taste from the back of his tongue, not the smell. He groused. Looked back towards Napoleon.

"What in devil's name do you actually wish to do? Get me hooked? Slowly turn me into your slave?"

"What would you reckon I wanted?"

"It will not work out as well as you think."

Napoleon lost the smile. He leaned forward.

"Listen, here." He grabbed Wellington by the shoulder—a mock friendly gesture—and harshly pulled him closer to whisper, "You were the one practically choking me out for it. Don't give me that attitude. I could've just put you down to make it easier for the rest of us but Lord Vlad is sometimes rather attached to his dogs."

Wellington snarled. "Then you know very well what will end up happening instead is you, torn up into pieces all over the ground and floor, unsalvageable—and that's something you cannot afford to regret too late."

Napoleon's eyes twitched. He smirked. "I had wondered if you'd care even slightly if I'd died… maybe you do."

"I care whether or not you've died by my hands."

"Huh. That's surprising."

"I have some conscience left." Blue eyes pierced into dull emerald ones. "Unlike you."

Napoleon endured Wellington's biting gaze. It shocked his nerves into a cold standstill. In a way it's more ferocious the more it possesses reason. Because he could shred you apart better with intention.

But Napoleon had been with him for a while—longer than he could recall the era before—and each day, each time they stood on the same battered battleground, the same village burnt into crisp, he knew that it's true.

Wellington would chew him out for every single 'inhumane' death and then drop down to scavenge a fresh corpse the next moment. An idiot of principle. He never spared Napoleon a single glance before this. Never gaze at him as prey. Never took him apart the way he wanted him to. Napoleon wants to feel the receiving end of that monstrosity. For once, for once in this dull indestructible existence.

That conscience Wellington decided to keep,

"Hmph." Napoleon averted his eyes, almost to hide a smile. "It's unfortunate."

He wanted Wellington to take him, badly.

His arm had stopped bleeding. Napoleon brought his hand up to bite the pad of his thumb until it broke skin and grazed it across Wellington's lips. It caught the duke off guard, shutting up tightly. Some red coated the lower curve. He could definitely still taste that savoury blood all too well.

"But consider… that I maybe do enjoy seeing you like this." He smiled wider. His thumb stopped at the edge of Wellington's mouth, urging it to finally tremble open, tongue darting out slightly to lick the blood off. Napoleon could nearly pinpoint the way the high spread from the prickle of the duke's taste buds into his darkened eyes. "Seeing you addicted. To me."

Wellington's shaky hand hesitated, before it grabbed Napoleon’s to push his thumb further into his mouth to lap up any excess drop even after the wound closed up almost instantly. He couldn't hide his frustrated grunt, flattening up his tongue up to a knuckle, and further up the arm still, cleaning up any dried stain of the previous bleeding.

"That's it… just like a dog," Napoleon cooed.

Hearing that Wellington fixed him with slight fury, shiver, whatever emotion was overcoming him right now, and pushed Napoleon further up the wall to latch his mouth into his neck, earning him a shocked huff from the man. Just having Napoleon's pulse be this close made him shudder. His lips could trace the warm blood flowing under the skin.

Then he felt a cold, sharp instrument resting on the skin of his nape.

Napoleon tutted. "Ah-ah-ah. You can't have what you want. I'll kill you."

Napoleon's knife blared its warning. Wellington somehow restrained himself, letting Napoleon down, his teeth just a touch away from his neck. He could effortlessly tear through it just as that knife could smoothly sink into him, but he kept his lips shut. Breathed in what air that he could gather around to ground him.

"Keep your teeth away and I might- just keep your head on your shoulders." Napoleon sounded breathless. He couldn't help his heart running faster than he'd like it to. "It's not a pleasant experience. Faust possibly won't even bother with you."

Napoleon expected Wellington to be provoked and leave this game alone, but instead he felt rough lips diving in and rubbing, picking, pinching—tongue licking the same spot with the beating pulse over and over again. Arousing a single nerve. It's ferociously gentle. Torturing. Too intimate.

He arched his back off the wall to slightly escape from it but Wellington planted his full weight to prevent it from happening. A pathetic moan almost left his throat. This simple helplessness along with the weight of someone devouring him this way almost built the excitement he was seeking.

It was supposed to be a long game, but Napoleon couldn't make himself stop it from advancing.

He pulled on the duke's hair. Wellington started sucking some skin deep into his lips until it broke the small vessels beneath the epidermis, just until he could almost taste the blood under the thin layer. Just there. So close but not here. He was only licking Napoleon’s bruises and he needed to sink into him. Fits his mouth on him. Something. Anything.

Something hard was pressing into his thigh. Napoleon's cock, leaning into the lines of his trousers. "...You fucking harlot."

Napoleon's laughter emanated. He shifted the knife behind his neck just a bit to remind him of it.

"If we're both getting off to it, can't say it's a bad deal."

"So this is what you've been fantasising about, huh?" He dragged his thigh a little just to see Napoleon’s reaction. "What is this, a sick death wish? A paraphilia? A self-destructive fetish?"

"If only it were so casual. I…" Napoleon winced and bowed his head. "It's not simply lust. I want to be crushed out of this vessel. This… residue of humanity is dragging on my skin. I can't stand what it's doing to me anymore."

"Haah, what are you even…"

"I need undoing." He looked back at him. "Undoing, you hear me? Proper ruin that'll keep me breathing. There's no such thing. Only some that'll break me enough."

Wellington scowled. Whatever nonsense this man is going to give, he knows what he actually wants. They stare at each other closely. "Why me? not the Lord, not the doctor, or just some random wench that you can find."

"Why you. You're the only one that I-" Wellington wouldn't understand the slightest, of course. Napoleon closed his mouth for a second. "Allow."

Closer. "Allow to what, precisely."

"To fuck me." The knife sat deeper into the skin.

Wellington sneered, a tad amused. "If that's the case…"

His hands roamed for the first time. It pressed through clothes into the dips of Napoleon’s ribs, waist. He stopped a hand on one of Napoleon’s thighs to drag it back to his cock. They wouldn't leave each other's eyes out of sight. New shivers thundering in him. Wellington whispered,

"Turn around."

Napoleon kept their eye contact. He slowly released his knife from Wellington's neck, lowering it, and eventually letting it fall onto the floor.

He trusts him with his life.

Wellington twisted him around while dragging his hips backwards. Napoleon grunted by the strain. He pulled off Napoleon's trousers just enough to free his erection.

Napoleon grinds his teeth so as to not moan while Wellington stroked him. He tugged Napoleon’s shirt open to reveal more skin, to fit his teeth into while the man was writhing. He supposed this is the only way he'd get his fill.

"Is this what you were thinking of?" He squeezed on the stroke up. "This is what you wish I'd do?"

Napoleon couldn't speak or he'll let out an egregious moan. He grinded his hips back into Wellington's to get his cock harder. The duke tsked. He lapped up his own fingers clean before shoving them into Napoleon’s trousers and pressing into his hole.

Napoleon swallowed up a grunt. The finger dragged along his walls, stretching a muscle he didn't realise could be pulled so pleasantly. It breached deep enough to graze rub into his pleasant spot, and he let tremors rumble throughout his body. This is as close as contentment he's going to get.

Wellington grazed his teeth on his shoulder and Napoleon finally moaned. His cock and entrance kept being stroked and stretched incessantly at the same time no matter where he escaped his hips to and he felt everything coming in together, climbing to a single point.

"...How simple."

Napoleon chased his release himself by fucking into Wellington's hand and fingers. It felt just like any other one. Could've jerked himself off and gotten the same result. He leaned his head into the man behind him, panting, searching the blue eyes that were keenly watching him.

"You could do more than that."

"Be patient."

Wellington collected all of his cum into his palm, tugging the oversensitive cock to spill everything out. He used them to coat his own erection while Napoleon shook over the prolonged stimulation and he pressed his forehead onto Wellington's cheek while taking a lungful of air for each stroke he gave.

"Take your clothes off if you have to," Wellington said. His breath still reeked of rot that Napoleon wished would eventually also blight him. That beautiful end. He idly pressed his mouth into Wellington's—catching him off guard—while he let his trousers fall, his half unbuttoned shirt and jacket falling off his shoulders; the duke once again thrown off by how much he was giving him.

The kiss didn't move their lips. It simply froze them still. Wellington hesitatingly trailed his hand along Napoleon’s bent arm to find his fingers that were stopped in the middle of unbuttoning, and finished the job for him, pushing it off and letting everything fall to the floor.

Napoleon’s body was entirely unprotected, while the duke's clothes and armour still pressed intimately against his bare skin. They didn't see each other's eyes. They might not ever want to see them again.

Wellington even spoke against his lips, so he didn't need to pull away. "You're giving me everything."

"Yes. This is nothing."

Wellington's fingers danced along Napoleon’s abdomen, his erection absentmindedly resting between Napoleon’s behind. This is nothing but the banal state of being. Debased human body.

"This is what you want destroyed?"

Some lifeless limbo that you're living in.

"Or do you actually want it… completed?"

He slowly rutted into Napoleon’s willing entrance, while his hand reached down to cup the other's softened penis.

Napoleon moaned while grabbing hold of Wellington's clothes behind him for anchor.

"You're bothered by your longing. Means emptiness has filled you. There's no way to escape that for a human."

"I- I fucking realised. –ak-!"

Wellington set a brutal pace that dragged and opened his tight insides unceasingly, stimulating more nerves that spread to all the tips of his body. His cock soaked Wellington's hand, who did not move to give it any attention.

"Hah, poor thing. I didn’t realise all that anger and blatant disregard are… quite literally desperation."

Napoleon’s barely swallowed gasps and moans poured out towards the tall hollow ceiling. His pleasure and pain couldn't spill out anywhere, just coiling and coiling inside because he couldn't let himself cum until he's certain that monster wouldn't keep going.

"I shouldn't destroy you, you might've deserved this torture of being." He slowed down to thrust full and deep, rolling his hips to hit the spot Napoleon would feel his dick the most. He trailed his hand and softly held Napoleon's bare shoulder close to his lips. "But… you could have this from time to time."

"A-ah- just, keep going."

"I know." Wellington bit a piece of skin. He kept up his grinding while relishing the small trickle of blood. Napoleon whined and it's a noise Wellington never heard from his mouth—the cock in his hand got impossibly harder and his passage clenched tighter onto the dick penetrating him.

"- -Oh… I should- really.. savour you."

Napoleon exhaled long and deep breaths. Wellington slowed down for a moment, long enough to make Napoleon realise the hair tickling his cheek, and the hand idly tracing his bare abdomen. The cold air blowing around him contrasted with their warm breaths.

They continued long into the night.

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Napoleon whimpered as he felt the heat trickling down his legs. He has not felt this mentally exhausted in a long time. The bed they've moved into creaked as Wellington shifted behind him, grasping the back of his thighs and began licking him up to his aching hole.

"You- !"

He doesn't have the strength to complain, dropping his head down onto the sheets. Wellington could taste some drops of blood. He cleaned it up and prodded his tongue in to lap up any that could've been left in his wake.

Napoleon was trembling on the bed. He couldn't yet feel anything close to what he's been looking for, for any pain that Wellington bit into him kept fading back into nothing. There's nothing that the duke would do to him further except just… making love and making love.

"... You still wouldn't give me what I want."

Wellington laid atop of him, biting the side of his neck deep into his artery, eliciting a very weak cry. He only sucked in a couple rich gulps before immediately pulling out, only licking the rest of the blood that seeped out.

Napoleon had filled his palette enough. He didn't know what else he could do. The wound closed up quickly, as any inflicted wounds would have on the halfling, and Wellington thinks he definitely shouldn't just try to finally finish him in one go, not even if he actually wants to.

The man was probably too spent to continue anything anyway. He let Napoleon roll to the side and his back on his arm. He brushed the sweat off the man's forehead idly. He couldn't find anything else to touch, or to stare at.

They accidentally looked at each other's eyes. It's not as bad as they thought it'd be.

"I don't know what you truly want, and I don't think you do either, do you?…."

Long and weakened breaths. The castle became a silent and hollow cranium, again. As it will always be for eternity. But the duke did not know that during those last moments where he had gently brushed the sweat off his fellow's skin for seemingly no reason, had been the closest Napoleon had ever gotten to feeling complete.

#ikevamp #napoleon week 2022 #Ikevamp napoleon #Ikevamp wellington

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dybdahltravels2022 · 2 years

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Rhodes

This is our last stop on our boat - and I just have to say - WOW!

While the walls and palace at different places we have seen were battle worn, this city was never taken. EVER! It was however handed over to several different conquerors - but they didn't blow it up . It is stunning!

This is the legendary site of the Colossus of Rhodes. Below is an artists' rendition since there is not a piece of this sucker left. Rumor was that it was about the size of the Statue of Liberty and made of copper and when it collapsed after a major earthquake, the Ottomans, who were in charge at the time - picked up the pieces to use for something else.

Below is a picture of Kepler with the rumored spot of the Colossus of Rhodes stood. But of course the location of this statue is also in questions. Some believe it was in dead center in the middle of town.

The walled city is huge and there really is not much question about why it was never breacher. There are 3 different walls including a moat BEFORE you even get into the city.

FINALLY we got into the city...

Here is are some pics I took off the web to give you an idea of how huge this place is.

We were lucky to have had an opportunity to swim right in front of this place. And yes, the water is that color.

We spent a LOT of time in this place including going through the palace. AWESOME!!!!

We were there two days and we had the run of the walled city but we also went high into the hills to see another monastery built by the Knights of Malta. Of course not everything has survived the elements and the earthquakes - although the walls of Rhodes have... hmmmm. Anyway - check out these pics: (And I figured out that the spot where you are baptized with full immersion is called a Baptismal. - DUH!)

During this visit, with plenty of shade and cooler temps on the hill, I walked with a former Catholic on the path of the Stations of the Cross. Now I have heard about this many times, but never exactly got it. Now I know. Of course the narrative was written in Italian - but we got it. There were also peacocks everywhere!

One more thing that we saw that I had never seen before was an Roman actual stadium - OH we have seen the Coliseum, but this was the size of a high school football field of today. Perhaps this was a track and field stadium.

We also had an opportunity to go up into the hills where the terrain changed dramatically to visit an areas that is the breeding ground for a certain type of nocturnal butterfly which makes it is moth. I simply could not see them - they were about an inch or inc and a half - but others could and I have to admit that the coolness of this area was greatly appreciated.

We had a lovely dinner the falling night and as an aside, we had the opportunity to visit the bridge on the ship on a different day - but it was cool.

We moved off the ship early the following day and then did a brief tour of the "newer" parts of the city and then we were in a hurry up and wait pattern. The weather on the sea has changed and we needed to get off a couple hours earlier than scheduled so the next group could get on the ship. They were NOT going to spend any time in Rhodes because they needed to get to the next port - our route backwards. And since I'm writing this several days after the trip - we have learned that they were unable to stop at ANY PORT! TERRIBLE!!! (As I write this we are in the same pattern of hurry up and wait to board our ship in Aberdeen, Scotland, that will take us to the islands in the North Sea and I'm sooooooo hoping this doesn't happen to us. But we cannot control Mother Nature!)

Our flight to Athen was also delayed - so the wait was long. But since we packed our patience and sense of humor, good-will and understanding - we passed the time with some shopping, a smoothie and just enjoying our last few minutes on Rhodes. I will close this post with just some stunning photos of nature. Athens will be our last stop and Mark and I will fly to Inverness, Scotland and Kepler will return to the US.

WHAT A GREAT TIME WE HAVE HAD!!! Stay tuned....

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absolute-flaming-trash · 2 years

Note

Yay I didn’t miss it!!!! Congratulations again!🍾🎉🎉

I’m going to go with Gyutaro + Breathe For You by Monsta X, or if you feel more comfortable with Choso he works too!

And here are translated lyrics

I’m still on the fence when it comes to demons who were turned when they were underage, even though technically as demons they’re hundreds of years old, so I’m going to go with Choso for this one, sorry my friend! I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. 💛

I took some artistic liberty here since Choso is half human, I’m operating under the assumption that regular people can see him.

Warnings: Stalking, Kidnapping, Forced Relationship, Mild Spoilers (character relations)

Breathe For You - Monsta X

Choso’s existence was an incredibly lonely one, despite his special circumstances.

He wasn’t like other curses where he could only be perceived by those with a specific amount of cursed energy, it was more so due to the fact that he had very little family left and little to no friends he could name.

There was Yuji, and really that was it. The rest of his brothers were either dead or unaccounted for. Outside of that, he had no one.

Until he found you.

Courting wasn’t something that had ever crossed his mind before, so he began to follow you whenever he had the chance to - gathering as much information as he possibly could to make the best impression once he finally introduced himself.

It just… got a little out of hand.

He didn’t have to be fully human to know that the intensity of his feelings for you weren’t what were to be considered normal, but that was just it. He wasn’t a normal being to begin with, so it only made sense that his emotions would be a little more on the extreme side - for better or for worse.

That being said, it still pained him a little when you would try to turn your head away from his kisses.

In a way he couldn’t blame you. He knew it was a lot. He knew you just wanted to go home, but he couldn’t just let you leave. Not when you captivated him so much, and that combined with the fact you had zero cursed energy to speak of? That meant you had no idea just how truly dangerous the world was. How evil it could be.

The idea of you passing so much as a sewer drain would make him double check all the safety measures he had in place to make sure you wouldn’t go on any kind of adventures on your own.

You were angry with him now, but he knew you would understand that he was doing this because he cared for you. He had caught you smiling a few times recently, and it made him fall harder for you - even if the cause of it was because of an escape plan you had thought you’d kept secret.

It just reminded him all over again that this was the best choice to make for you.

#riri answers #riri writes #love my moots #lovely laura #I'm sorry this one is a little shorter but I felt like if I added more it would take away from it #Choso #Choso x Reader #JJK #Jujutsu Kaisen #400 followers event #tw yandere #tw kidnapping #tw stalking #tw forced relationship #jjk spoilers

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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

Text

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 4

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 2877

Additional note: This is the final chapter. There'll be an epilogue, but you'll have to wait a bit because there are a lot of challenges I've signed up for and I'm way behind schedule.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

Devastated and angry at the world. That's how Ivar is feeling.

Holed up in his room since the night before, and despite Lagertha incessant requests, he doesn’t plan to come out, not now at least. Come to think of it, he might as well decide never to leave his room again.

He can't stand the idea of facing his brothers. He doesn't want to have to tell them about his failure. He doesn't want to endure Ubbe's pity and condescendence. He doesn't want to see the look of triumph on Sigurd's face. The thought makes his stomach lurch while at the same time a murderous urge creeps into his mind. No, he definitely can't see his brothers.

Surprisingly, and unlike Lagertha, his brothers have left him alone, as if sensing that entering his room would be as moving into a minefield. Only Hvitserk had taken a chance earlier, cautiously poking his head through the door. His disapproving look obvious when his eyes had taken in the scene before him, Ivar's belongings scattered on the floor, some of them smashed into pieces.

"I got you a chocolate muffin from the kitchen, baby bro," he had explained, putting it on a nearby shelf, and it had almost brought a smile to Ivar's face. To Hvitserk, there's no predicament that can't be improved with comfort food.

"Look, Ivar," scratching his neck, Hvitserk had then said, "I don't know what happened and I don't want to pressure you. You tell me when you're ready, if you are. But I'm here, okay? Whatever the time of day or night, you don't have to be alone if you don't want to. If I'm upstairs, just call me, okay?" With these words, he was gone, the door closed.

Ivar can't get the events of the previous evening out of his mind. Like a waking nightmare, they are playing over and over in his head: how he had freaked out when he heard the beeps; the confused and then so disappointed look you had given him when he sputtered his need to leave; finally, his shameful escape into the night.

What could he have done? What should he have done?

He does know the answer. He should have been more cautious. He should have checked the time, asked for your number and just walked away.

On the other hand, what difference would it have made? He would still have no future with you, right? He would still be a cripple, and you would still be... you... perfect... too good for him.

So yeah, he had run away like a coward. He lets out a bitter chuckle to himself. Run away? Who is he kidding? He hadn't run away, that would have been too easy. Cripples don't run away. Without his cane – why the fuck did he leave it behind?? – he had pathetically limped away, stumbling, his feet sinking into the sand. He had still been on the beach when the battery had died. He had had no other choice but to crawl like a worm the rest of the way, silently praying to the gods that the darkness of the night would prevent you from seeing him like this.

Tears of despair run down his cheeks for the umpteenth time. He's used to feeling humiliated, but feeling humiliated and heartbroken simultaneously is really too much to take. He feels like he's dying from the inside over and over again, cursing himself for wanting to attend the party, for wanting to see you again. He should never have let his walls down, he should never have dared to hope. What was he thinking? He may have walked, and even danced with you, but at the end of the day, he still is a pitiable cripple with stupid, crooked legs, in love with a girl way out of his league.

If he's being honest, that's what hurts the most. He now realizes how delusional he had been. Holding on to a dead dream for years, he had not forseen the painful yet unavoidable reality check. And now, it's like he's been hit by a train. Because there's no denying it, dreaming of a life with you is no longer an option, not after last night. And even though it's almost unbearable, he knows now he has to let go of you, of the idea of you and him being together. As much as this mere thought is devastating, he has no other choice. He has to stop fooling himself, for his own sanity, if nothing else.

Giving a guttural cry, much like that of a wounded animal, Ivar doesn't hear when the front doorbell rings. Not that he would have reacted even if he had heard it, too busy wallowing in self-pity.

***

"Thank you for having us here on such short notice, my dear." Your uncle states joyfully, his eyes sparkling, as Lagertha greets him with a handshake and a tight-lipped smile. Even though you don't know why, it's obvious that she's not his biggest fan.

Your uncle, who doesn't seem to notice – or doesn't care, you're not sure – keeps giving her a beaming smile. "My niece here," he turns his head toward you for a short moment, "has a weird request. She met a boy yesterday, during the party. He lost something and my sweet Y/N has been adamant since this morning that she wants to find him and personally return it to him. We were wondering," he turns his gaze in the direction of the couch, "if it could be one of your wards."

There are indeed three young men, half sprawled on the couch, who get up as one when Lagertha gives them a stern look. If you vaguely remember having seen them before, a single glance is enough for you to know that the one you're looking for is not among them.

You're on the verge of saying so but your uncle doesn't give you a chance to. "See boys," he unceremoniously grabs the cane you're holding behind your back, "here is the lost item. A cane! Fairly uncommon, if you ask me. Anyway... Does this... thing belong to any of you?"

Since you know it doesn't, you're surprised when two of the guys both take a step forward. "Actually, it's mine," they say in unison, each of them only then becoming aware that the other is speaking.

Dumbstruck, you look at one then the other successively. They've got a lot of nerve! You know they're lying, and you would have known it even if these two idiots hadn't spoken at the same time. They just look nothing like your handsome stranger – if he's a stranger.

"Sigurd, you know it's mine!"

"Don't play dumb, you never use a cane, Ubbe! Whereas me, I do sometimes. Everyone knows artists tend to be eccentric, right?"

The blondest one – Sigurd if you heard right – points his finger at a guitar leaning against the wall and then winks at you, "I'm a musician, you know?" You don't even have time to roll your eyes as the other one – Ubbe? – yells, his nostrils flaring.

"Shut up Sig, you're so full of shit! You know I've got a sprained ankle!"

"A sprained ankle, no kidding? Who did a ten-kilometer run today, huh? It's not me! So, you are the one going to shut up, you fucking douchebag!"

It's almost funny to watch them arguing back and forth. If you weren't so pissed off, you'd laugh. But right now, you're mostly mad at them. Their blatant lies make your blood boil with anger.

Are they really thinking you're a complete idiot? That you can be fooled so easily? Who do they think they are? Who do they think you are? Some stupid chick ready to fall for their good looks? If they think that, they're kidding themselves.

"You're the fucking douchebag, Sig!! Don’t forget I'm the oldest!"

"And what's the difference, huh? You can't have all the girls, Ubbe! Keep fucking Margrethe and just let me be! Stop being a controlling asshole!"

"STOP!!!! BOTH OF YOU!!!"

Lagertha's shout is deafening and if looks could kill, these two morons would be lying dead on the floor right here, right now.

"Y/N, my dear," Lagertha gives you an apologetic smile, "I'm so sorry for that. I swear they usually know how to behave, better than that at least. Guess they don't know how to handle your striking beauty. Now sweetheart, tell me, is one of these two knuckleheads the one you were with last night?"

The silence that falls on the room after her question is so complete that you could hear a pin drop. Acutely aware that all eyes are on you, you shyly lower your gaze, shaking your head slightly, as you clasp your hands over your belly. You eventually speak, your eyes meeting Lagertha's, and you can see she knows what you're going to say. "No, the guy I was with last night is not one of them."

"How can you be so sure?" Sigurd's voice is soft and tentative now, and Ubbe adds, seemingly for once in agreement with his younger brother, "yeah, how can you? It was pretty dark after all."

You give them a smile. "How can I be so sure? You mean beside the fact that you obviously don't need a cane? Neither of you?" The third brother, who still hasn't opened his mouth, chuckles, giving you a thumbs up. "Look, I appreciate your interest, I really do, but neither of you are the one I am looking for. Therefore," you look at your uncle, "we should leave, don't you think?" Checking the time on your watch, you shrug. "What about the Eyvindsson family? Didn't you tell me about three brothers? We may have time to go and see them tonight if we hurry."

Your uncle nods, handing you back the cane. "You're right, Y/N, we should leave." Taking two steps forward, he grabs Lagertha's hand. "Sorry dear, we will waste no more of your time."

You're about to thank her when one of the boys clears his throat. "Ahem..."

Turning your head, you're surprised to see the third brother, the silent one, raising his hand. "I think I might know who this cane belongs to." Frowning, he glances at his brothers. "And you both know it too."

"Shut up, Hvitserk!" Sigurd spits, clenching his hands into fists. "Don't bring the fucking cripple into the conversation."

"Sigurd! Keep your mouth shut!" Lagertha glares at him for several long seconds then her face softens as she looks at Hvitserk, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What are you trying to say, Hvitserk? Do you think this cane belongs to your baby brother?"

Hvitserk nods. "I know it does, actually."

"Come on, Hvit, you're talking nonsense. It cannot be, it just cannot. That guy was standing. It wasn't our brother. Our brother wasn't there last night." Ubbe stubbornly insists, but Hvitserk just shakes his head.

"Of course, he was. I saw him. And don't bullshit me, Ubbe, you saw him too. With Y/N." Hvitserk states. That's when you realize that your palms are sweating and your pulse is racing.

Hvitserk keeps going, now speaking to his guardian. "I know what I saw, Lagertha. It was him. I don't know how, but he was standing, Ubbe is right. He was even walking. It may sound weird but I swear, it was him."

Lagertha nods. "I believe you, Hvitserk." A beaming smile spreads across her lips and she tilts her head. "I wouldn't be surprised if Floki had something to do with such a miracle. Go get your brother, Hvitserk, please."

Your heart leaps at these words, you're barely able to contain your excitement and as you let out a nervous chuckle, you cannot help but jump for joy. Needless to say, Ubbe and Sigurd seem much less enthusiastic than you.

***

Reluctantly following his brother, Ivar mutters under his breath, "you're pissing me off, Hvit. I'm fucking not in the mood for whatever you have in mind."

Hvitserk pays him no mind though, a small smile dancing on his lips. "Trust me, baby bro, you'll be in the mood."

Ivar wants to protest, or maybe just turn around and wheel back to his room but all at once the sound of your voice reaches his ears and he stops, frozen in place, his eyes wide open. He may have stopped breathing.

Patting his shoulder reassuringly, Hvitserk whispers, "It's Y/N, baby bro, but I have a feeling you already know. She's here for you, she was looking for you, Ivar. Go..." before giving a single push to his brother's wheelchair, his right hand on the backrest.

Ivar honestly doesn't know how he manages to wheel himself into the living room. What he does know, however, is that you're suddenly standing right in front of him. The heart stopping smile you flash him blows all the air out of his lungs, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, and the outside world – Lagertha, his brothers, Harald – ceases to exist.

A little voice tells him he should be feeling self-conscious with his hair all messy and wearing worn sweatpants, but he can't bring himself to care, not when you kneel in front of him with stars in your eyes.

"Here you are, finally," you breathe, gently placing a hand on his knee. Ivar didn't know until now that one could die of happiness, but that's exactly what he's feeling and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

Swallowing, he blinks several times. When he speaks, his voice trembles, his bottom lip quivering. "Hello Y/N, you were... looking for... for me?" He has trouble getting the words out, his nervous fingers fidgeting on his lap.

Grabbing both his hands in yours, you nod, your thumbs stroking his knuckles tenderly. "I was, yes, and for a very long time."

Shyly lowering his head, Ivar, almost feeling dizzy, can't wrap his head around your words. They're just too good to be true. "But... why?"

"Why?" You giggle, your laughing eyes lighting up your face, and he's positive, you're even more beautiful like this. "Isn't it obvious? I want to know more about you, what's your favorite color, what you eat for breakfast, where you see yourself in ten years. I just want to spend time with you, Ivar."

'Ivar' You've just said his name and it's like the sweetest music to his ears. He can't believe it. Wow. "You... You recognized me?" There's so much hope and joy in his voice, he cringes.

You shrug, your smile never leaving your lips. "I wasn't sure at first. You've changed a lot." Your hand cups his cheek. The sensation on his skin is so overwhelming he has to hold back the tears threatening to gush. Yet, he can't help but think you're speaking about his legs.

He grits his teeth. "Yeah... Standing tall can change a man."

"No! no, no, no," you retort without missing a beat, "That's not what I meant. In my memory you still looked like you did when we were ten, but look at you now, all grown up! Your hair was so short back then." Reaching out, you brush a strand of hair back and tuck it behind his ear before letting your fingers run slowly down and up his bulging biceps, your hand finally lingering on his forearm, "Plus, you clearly work out a lot. So, yeah, I thought it was you, but I wasn't sure. When we were dancing last night, I thought I'd ask you right after, but then you left and... well... I didn't have a chance..."

Ivar wraps his fingers around yours, a frown creasing his forehead. "About that, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left like–"

You shush him, holding a finger to his lips. "It doesn't matter, Ivar. You don't have to explain. All that matters is that I found you." Standing up, you lean forward and gently kiss his cheek and he feels like he's floating. Intertwining his fingers with yours, you whisper in his ear, "I reckon we got some lost time to make up, you and me. Can we go stargazing now?"

Hearing this makes Ivar's insides turn to jelly. Barely able to think, he is on cloud nine and wishes with all his heart never to come back down to earth again. But despite the daze, despite the fog in his head, despite the blinding happiness, he knows one thing: no matter how many stars he sees, you'll be the brightest one.

"Yes, Y/N, you're right," bringing your hand to his mouth, he gives it a kiss, "let's go stargazing."

And as he leaves the room, you walking alongside him with your hand on his shoulder, his heart filled with joy and wonder, he doesn't miss the thumbs up Hvitserk gives him, nor the scowl on Ubbe's and Sigurd's faces.

For a fleeting second, he thinks he should – he could – taunt them. They deserve to be laughed at, don't they? But then, he realizes he doesn't have time for that. The time for happiness has come, and it's far more important.

Giving you a beaming smile, Ivar inhales deeply before releasing a sigh of satisfaction. Yeah. Happiness. Happiness sounds good.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar’s taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @adrille88

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927 @dini73

#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

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lwt28brave · 3 years

Text

LT2 masterpost

If it was up to me, we would get an autumn or winter EP. Since it’s not up to me at all, here, enjoy this post with everything we know so far of LT2, which is to say, not much at all. Everything here is hypothetical. I’ll be updating every time I see something relevant. A little disclaimer that while this is a masterpost (kinda), it could be read as discourse (duh, it’s also a theory), AND it’s also by me, and you shouldn’t expect me to be serious at this point.

Due to me restraining myself, there’s no reference to any of the times he’s mentioned his guitar skills and him improving but I hope you know I cried every single time.

I’m also linking my old pinned here. It was written before AFHF and around the free merch thing that didn’t lead to much, but I still think I made some good points.

Possible tracks:

Copy of a Copy of a Copy

Change

Faith in the future??

369??

Possible names:

369

Faith in the future

When is the album coming out?

Your guess is as good as mine

Friday 28th of January 2022. Almost two years after Walls. It’s a Friday. It’s a 28th. What else can I say?

Here you can find @want-to-be-loved timelines for every month.

Here you can find @berlinini’s timeline of what Louis has been up to this year (2021).

The rest is under the cut. And here you can find a PDF version where Tumblr can't tell me how many pictures I can add.

2020

He said back on May 2th 2020 he wasn’t writing anything new yet.

(x)(x)(x)

Interestingly enough, he’s said many times after that that the album’s not ready cause he has no new experiences to drawn from. I won’t call him out because he does it himself.

May 4th. He liked a tweet from DMA’s Johnny Took saying they had to go write together again. Louis has been credited as an influence for them and (kind of) participated in their previous record, so I’m assuming he meant for their music and not his, but you never know.

Nothing(literally nothing??? how did we survive) until 11th of July. We all know what happened that day. We all celebrated it. Nonetheless, that’s not what I’m talking about here.

(x) So, by the beginning of July 2020 he was working on concepts and ideas for the new album. That was fifteen months ago. I know perfection takes time but…

Brief summary of important things that happened from then until the next mention of new music:

Louis left Syco!!!! 10 days later he rescheduled the tour for the first time. He followed Matt Vines on Twitter, probably so we could publicly shame him into doing something. Also, the 10thanniversary. He followed more people I wish he hadn’t.

Then more nothing until September. Not even a single tweet. The first merch drop was on the 28th of August but he just RT’ed the tweet. He first mentioned Free my Meal on the 25th of September. Then on October 1st Walls hit #1 on a lot of countries and Louis was incredibly happy and excited about it ^^

And then, that same day, October 1st, 2020, he dropped this bomb:

(x)

He also said it was too soon to be sharing new lyrics with us (x)

And, obviously, this tweet which is actually what made me start this whole post. I would hope you know mate.

(x)

He also told us he was cooking "banger after banger" and that he was incorporating more social themes into his music (x)(x) (I believe any social issue is a political issue but that’s not the point rn).

COPY OF A COPY OF A COPY?!?!

These next paragraphs are brought to you by my mind not remembering things and me not having any links. I’m assuming COACOAC came from those writing sessions that supposedly happened in October. Or in LA but I have no idea if he actually was in LA at any point other than a Daily Mail article putting him there on December which would have been too late, but I do remember that someone said he was in the studio in LA last autumn???? A rumor. Maybe. IDK. Did I mention already all of this is very hypothetical?? Well, this is it. I can’t even remember if this was October or November or what. So, take this with a grain of salt.

I’m also… taking the liberty to assume, if you must, that Copy wasn’t meant to be a Walls reject because it sounds more mature and darker and it has a vastly different tone that Walls songs. I know he’s said that song probably isn’t getting into the album, but I want to have faith (in the future) that I’m getting a studio version. (But also, Louis, if you’re reading this, first of all GET OUT OF MY BLOG second of all, please don’t ever feel pressured again to add a song to the album because we have already heard it before. It’s your art and it should always be under your own terms).

So yeah, I believe that Copy is either one of those four songs (then imagine the other three??!!) or was written around the 1st of October date.

---End of the Intermission---

Then not much important (other than sharing more about Marcus Rashford fight against food poverty and the 2nd merch drop) until he announced the livestream on the 24th of November. (x)

It wasn’t until a few days before the livestream date we even thought again about new music (jk, I know we’re always thinking about new Louis’ music). So, December 9th/10th, 2020. Nine months ago. We got our first taste of new music!

He made sure we knew Copy of a Copy of a Copy isn't a cover! (x) (x)

(x)

Ok, so that’s it for 2020. (I feel like I’m missing something from September 17th because tweet was deleted but maybe he was still talking about cucumbers. We might never know. Unless I understand how Tumblr tags work). Expected, cause Walls was released in 2020. We needed to let it sit for a while.

2021

Another Summary: Louis third tweet of the year was telling the UK government off. So was the fifth. What a good beginning. On the 26th of January, he said he prefers pancakes over waffles. I hope he meant pancakes other than his own. More importantly, he tweeted the infamous “you lot read into things too much”. Don’t get me started, Tomlinson. Don’t. Then the 31st came around and Walls was one. He tweeted this. How wise. And Project Defenceless happened!!

15th of February!! Who cares about Valentine Day when the next day we got this? ♥

(x)

So…AN EP?? AN EP?? PLEASE RELEASE AN EP.

“I’m sure I will have something out this year but unlikely that will be the album”. Unlikely but not impossible. Also. A single would be good. This is the second time he mentions releasing something in 2021 and he sounds surer about it than the first time around.

He also said that he isn’t sure we will get a studio version of Copy. And that the best bridges from Walls to LT2 are Walls, OTB, KMM and Copy. Can’t wait!

Then we jump to March 6th when he announced he was going to create his own management company. “Sometimes action is needed first to encourage the motivation and belief”. As we can tell he was already manifesting some stuff which will lead us to the numerology stuff/Tesla… kidding. Or not. We might never know.

On the 22nd of March he answered some questions:

He told us music was still his main focus ♥ mwha. (x) I included this tweet to guilt-trip him into giving us music in case he’s reading this even after I told him to leave. ILY.

(x) I’d love to get a visual EP this autumn. Just saying. It sounds like a lovely concept.

(x)

…next (I will get into it, I promise. I’m just mad).

On the 25th he left for Mexico until April 10th. You could assume it was just for the documentary where we got ten seconds of footage or admit the obvious: LT2 its a Mexican baby!!

On the 26th (so, not so far apart from that first 369) we got the first Faith in the Future mention: (x)

Back then we were innocent people who had no idea what was coming upon us. We still have no idea because what the fuck does he mean with these. Please explain. I have one braincell and I don’t use it enough for this. I’m linking some theories.

On the 30th of March he confirmed he was already working on the documentary. So AFHF was already on the works. Will it take this long for us to get the Veeps numbers? We also got this tweet: "Got a decent chorus idea down" (x).

Same person that got the “something out this year” exclusive. If you know something share with the class. Also. Is this Change? I feel like this could be Change but I also assume he wrote Change after hanging out with his friends or being in Doncaster. But who knows.

(x) And the second mention to 369.

(x) 15th of April. The second "Faith in the future".

On the 19th of April he announced that he had something BIG for us later on the year which turned out to be the Away From Home Festival ♥♥ (x) I love him so much.

Then on the 28th he announced the 369 merch drop (which it’s probably the Walls drop? Except that the TOU and KMM ones were “drop 1 and drop 2” and this was drop 369 which, again, makes no sense) but we still don’t know what 369 means.

Into May’ 21 we go.

He rescheduled tour again. And dropped another bomb (x).

He announced he has signed with BMG as an independent artist by RTing this tweet on May 10th. The article also says that he’s already working on writing and recording LT2. The timing… we don’t know. What this deal involves… we don’t know either. Bear with me here because I have a lot to say about this.

I think the deal is only a distribution one, but that BMG are interested in Louis and what he (us) could bring to the table. They were either present at the festival or watching it, but officially they had no involvement at all with it (everything is credited either to Louis own company, 78 Productions, or Charlie Lightening’s company). That’s the case for both giveaways too; the vinyl one and the tickets for the festival.

I think it would be an unbelievably bad move not to test the waters with BMG now or soon-ish. At least a single, to see how it performs. Due to the circumstances, it’s obvious there’re certain limitations on place but I want to see how they push it, whether the radio play exist this time around and if the song is playlisted and promoted and all that… I would also love to know, since it says he signed with BMG UK, but it also states it’s a global deal, how things are going to go on the US and other countries.

Yes, yes. I know those are all questions and no answers. But I know the same as you, sadly. If any of you know more than you’re letting on… again, share with the class.

Where was I? Yes, on the 25th of May Louis had a great day writing (x). Since the first time he had mentioned he was officially writing to this date there’s almost eight months. And I believe he was writing before October’ 20.

He followed Robert Harvey that day and, on the 28th of May (why is it always the 28th???) he was spotted at the studio for the first time.

June was an interesting month for the fandom ♥. Lots of LHL content which I will love and cherish for the rest of times. On June 4th, June 9th, and June 10th he was spotted at the studio, but I believe he was there more days.

(x)

This was posted on June 6th and captioned Studio. Charlie also shared it with “Mega tunes being put down, can’t wait for this @louist91 #louistomlinson #LT2” as the caption. This gives me 2019 (Elton-Joint) vibes. I like it. Feels like we’re getting closer to something.

He added the Milano date on the 9th too which I’m mentioning because I’m going alone. Anyone wanna go with me please? I’m nice and I never eat anything before a concert so you can have my food. On other news. It didn’t come home.

During July he was at the studio at least three days too. Probably more. Feels like more with all the fan pictures we got. Or was that June? Anyway, July 1st and 9th we got some videos from Robert Harvey and wearesuperhi, which is who Louis has been working with the most, that we know of. I don’t know for sure they’re from that day. And on July 5th we got an article and lots of pictures of Louis looking really good outside the studio.

On the 12th of July the first fans started getting the free, 369 bucket hat and print. We still don’t know what the purpose was other than to thanks fans. Maybe that was it. I want answers and I still think it relates to a future project (see theories above), but it could also just be a bridge with the Walls breaking.

He didn’t tweet about anything interesting for a while, mostly because he lost his phone (he either throwed it in the air or smashed it who knows). Then on the 29th of July he announced the festival!

I’m glossing over it because there’s already been a lot of talk about it (rightfully) and while it was a wonderful thing, it doesn’t have much to do with LT2.

Let’s talk Change!

On August 3rd he tweeted this about the setlist.

(x)

And this (x) on the 28th! I can’t stand him.

We didn’t get it, obviously. Because who was going to get that. But we read too much into things. Alright.

On the 16thof August Dave Gibson shared this post tagged #LT2 with the eyes emojis 👀👀👀. I believe this has to do both with Change but also with whatever else came out of that Mexico trip.

(x) Last relevant tweet related to LT2 is this one.

So, on the 30th of August we got Change and we cried, and we know that Change is going in the new album. He said it. With those exact words. He also said he was “getting a feeling for it”. This has to meant he already has a general idea of the vibe of the new album and what’s going in it!!!!!! (Right? RIGHT?).

Anyway, let’s go back a few weeks because some other things happened on August. He was at the studio a few more times. Or it was suggested that he was there. On the 17th and the 18th. (Why was it so time-pressing to be at the studio instead of rehearsing for the festival? There was no studio at all on the documentary. Which makes sense, but again, then why?).

On the day of the festival we got another mention of Faith in The Future that made me feel part of a cult ngl. The words were flashing on the screen for less than a second. Okay.

And then he tweeted those words again after watching the livestream/documentary on the 4th of September (x). This is what makes me suspect it's either the name of the album or of the single.

On the same day, we got some interesting quotes about LT2 on the documentary.

“Soon I’ll have to think about me second album, which in my head I’ll get the tour out of the way and then I’ll address that. So, I hadn’t really given it much thought, to be honest”.

“When every day is the same is hard to feel creative and it’s hard to have any kind of proper inspiration”.

“As season started to come back, I started writing again and it was great and some of these songs turned out alright”.

And I think this is it. I might be overlooking some important details but that’s what we know and what we don’t know.

So. Conclusions. That’s what you missed on Glee. I do believe the album is, if not mostly done, partially there. And yes, this post is pointless and never-ending but it’s all in here if you need to tell Louis “Hey, you said this, mate”.

#LT2 #Louis Tomlinson #Faith in The future #369 #Louis #LT #new music #idk what this is #but it's long #pinned

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sciapod · 3 years

Text

Bathtub Photoshoot 💦

Pairing: Henry Cavill x First Person-POV (Female, or at least X wears a bra and has breasts)

Summary: Little private photosesh' with Henners and then some.

Warnings: Dry humping but let's just call it grinding. Edging. 18+ to be safe!! Contains smut. You might be able to find the tiniest bit of angst. And bit of fluff.

Word count: 2.5K

Not beta’ed! I take full responsibility for this fuckup.

Inspired/prompted by this post by @cavillfics

Masterlist

I obviously don't own Henry Cavill, nor do I know him IRL, so it goes without saying that this is a figment of my imagination.

(I took the liberty to edit the photo just a bit and don’t know who to credit for the original edit. Let me know if you know, so I can give credit where it's due.)

Happy reading 💦

---

“Babe, I've got an idea! Can you do something for me, please?”

When I heard you coming through the front door, I rushed to meet you there. You were finally home again and was hanging your jacket on the coat rack when I found you.

“Oh, well,” you reply, “I really want to just lean back, maybe take a shower or something. It’s been a long week, babe. And hello, by the way.”

You step over to me, reach around my waist and pull me against your firm body.

“Mhm, you smell lovely,” you whisper in my hair. I sigh, then wiggle myself free of your embrace.

“Henry, listen,” I look up at you with my best attempt at puppy eyes. You breathe deeply and turn your face, scratching mine with your stubble. It sends shivers through my body.

“Okay,” you hum as your hands roam my body, finding their way to my bare thighs then sneaking up beneath my robe, “tell me.”

I grab your hips and press my core against your thigh as I lean backwards, looking up at you, “I want to take some pictures … of you.”

Your face goes through a range of emotions; surprised, suspicious, smirking, friendly and finally incredibly charismatic: Front-page-style smile.

“That’s the one!” I say with excitement.

“Which one?” you tease, furrowing your brow and looking all suspicious again.

“You know perfectly well, you buffoon!” I say, as I slap your chest playfully.

My entire body lifts when you laugh. You kiss my forehead and twirl some of my hair between a few fingers. Your eyes shift, gazing at various areas of my face. I sigh, then reach for your hands, the one playing with my hair and the other, which I find gently caressing the lace of my panties.

I hold your hands between us and look up at my man.

“You do realize, of course, that you are basically a Greek god carved out of stone.”

“I have been told so, yes.”

“And you do realize that every artist needs a muse, a model, to create from.”

“I have a faint idea of that, yes,” you say, smirking down at me.

“And I happen to be short of a project, and subject, for my portfolio.”

“I see,” your smile broadens, “but what does that have to do with me?”

“Henry!”

My declining patience must have been obvious somewhere in my face or perhaps my exclamation, because you burst out laughing, throwing your head back as you do so. I can’t help but melt a little.

“Tell me what you need me to do, darling,” you say, stroking my hands with your thumbs. I feel warmth spread through my chest. Your face softens and I feel the warmth spread further down.

“Fuck,” I breathe, casting my eyes to the floor. I’m suddenly filled with all kinds of insecurities, imposter syndrome and such, but there’s a reason why you’re my man. You sense it immediately and lift my hands to your lips, kissing them sincerely.

“You’ve got this, babe.”

I sigh, “I know, sweetheart. It's just… Urgh.”

You kiss my forehead.

“Tell me your idea.”

“I…” My voice breaks. You lift my chin up with a single finger, as if it were suddenly light as a feather, forcing me to look into your striking blue eyes.

“I don’t know,” I finally exclaim. “I didn’t have a concrete idea. I just knew that I wanted you to be in the photos.”

You smile, almost apologetically, “Okay, look. I really want to help. But I’m so damn tired. I’ve got an idea, though, of how we may be able to hit two birds with one stone.”

“Okaay?” I say, a slight tinge of hope seeping into my core again.

“I need a bath–”

“–I can’t take a nude picture of you!”

You laugh again, but shake your head, “No, silly. Let me finish.”

My cheeks flush scarlet.

“I need a bath, but instead of taking a shower, I’ll jump in the tub. Once in there, you can have me do whatever you want.”

I squint my eyes, then see a lightbulb flash on.

“YES!” I almost yell, running my hands up your torso and leaning in for a kiss.

“Yes,” I repeat, then press my lips against your sculpted ones. It is as if your lips curl to a smile amidst the kiss.

“Yes,” I say one last time, meeting your eyes, “If you get the water running, I’ll collect my gear.”

Your hands go wandering about on my hips again, dragging my robe up and making my hairs stand on end. You look down at me with a confident smile, saying, “great minds think alike.”

I fight off the urge to kiss you again and instead draw away from you. You catch the waistband of my robe and it slides off as I step away, revealing the new set of lingerie I’m wearing underneath. I stand, looking at you with what I imagine is the expression of a suspicious feline. You, on the other hand, make a low whistle and shake your head in slow motion, clearly surprised and pleased to see what I was hiding beneath. Then you nod toward the living room, signalling I get on with finding my camera.

It takes me a few minutes to find the right lens. When I enter the bathroom, you’re in the process of unbuckling your belt. The tap is running and there’s already a bit of water in the tub.

“Wait,” I say, stopping you just as you’re about to pull your jeans down, “I think I want you in the water dressed.”

You stare for a moment, shrug, say “sure,” then proceed to tug your jeans over your perky bum again.

“Right, erm,” I think for a moment, “No, you know what? Lose the pants, but keep the t-shirt on.”

“Lose the pants,” you repeat and let your jeans fall to the floor. As you stand back up, I realize something.

“We might have a problem,” I say, eyeing the hefty bulge in your boxers.

You follow my gaze, noticing the same problem, then nod in agreement.

“But then again,” you say, “what did you expect, looking like that?” you hint at my open robe and lingerie.

We both shrug, then burst laughing.

“I guess we’ll just have to make it work!” I say, “Now, in the tub with you, buddy.”

You feel the temperature of the water and deciding that it’s decent, turn off the tap, step in and lie down. There’s not a lot of water in there, but I’m assuming it will do. You look up at me with anticipation, “Now what?”

I squint at you, finding the bulge slightly distracting, basically towering above the waterline like another Burj Khalifa. Obviously, you notice my lack of response.

“Hey, babe!” you say, snapping me out of it. I feel my nether region clench.

“Okay, okay!” I shake my head to wake up. You shake yours too, smirking at me.

“We need to do something about that,” I say.

“I can try to hide it?” you suggest.

“How?” I squint. It’s a mastodon of a package you has stored down there, I think to myself.

“Anyway, I need to find a position to photograph you from.”

I begin taking random photos of you from various angles and perspectives, simultaneously adjusting the settings on the camera as I do so. Meanwhile, you roll around to one side, then the other, then back again. The squeaking sounds of your body rubbing against the sides of the tub while you change poses makes the whole situation rather comedic, and I'm convinced you're doing it even worse on purpose. Determined to be somewhat professional, I try to ignore your distractions.

“It’s a good thing we have such good lighting in here,” I say, gazing around the small room, pretending to be focused and ignorant of your attempts at sabotage.

“How do you want me, babe? I feel like… I don’t even know? A fish out of water,” you say, doubting your own wording, “or something like that.”

I sigh, “I know, I get it. I need to think. We’ve also still got that… situation… going on.” I gesture at the, no less apparent, tent between your legs.

“Okay,” you say calmly, “I’ll just lie back and relax, while you think of something.”

“Good.”

As you settle into a comfortable position, I mentally run through the various “golden rules” of photography that I can remember.

Then it’s as if I notice the obvious. The absolute god-like adonis carved in marble in front of me: My initial inspiration. Your white t-shirt, soaked from all the turning and splashing around you did, is sticking to your chest and abs, enhancing the lines of your muscular torso, yet still in a perfectly suggestive fashion; somewhat similar to the drapery you see on these same sculptures. In a fit of impulse, I crawl up to stand on the edges of the tub.

You open your eyes –awoken by my scramblings– fear in your eyes as you reach for me, “be careful, babe!”

“No no, darling! Stay put!” I say, “I’m perfectly safe. It’s dry. My feet are dry. I’m stable, but thank you.” I smile, reassuringly. Suspicious yet accepting, you lower your arms and lie back down. I notice your eyes trail down my exposed body. Lust now clear as daylight in your gaze.

“I think I’ve got the photo soon, babe, then we’re done,” I explain. “Just close your eyes for me.”

You shake your head and smile, then do as I said.

Your head rests on the back of the tub, but your fingers begin fidgeting … around your nether region.

“Are you uncomfortable?” I ask between photos.

“No…” you smirk, eyes still closed, but you shift and rest your hands awkwardly on your stomach instead.

“We can’t have that,” I say, “you’re covering the main part of the photo,” I tease.

You open your eyes, still smirking but not saying a word.

“And you’re revealing, exposing, what we need to hide,” I try to hold back my laugh.

“Okay,” I continue, “what about… what if you hold your t-shirt at the hem and stretch it down to cover your crotch. Place your other hand casually beside it. Yeah, like that! Exactly, babe. Beautiful.”

I take a couple of photos and look at them on the tiny screen.

“Right, hold that pose, but just… kinda relax, if you can. I’ll take a few shots more and then you’re done!”

You close your eyes again and begin taking deep breaths, lessening the tension that must have been building in your shoulders over the last few days. As peace falls upon your face and body, I take the last photos. After quickly reviewing them on the tiny screen, I decide that I’m done. I turn off my camera and place it on the shelf above the tub before crawling down to sit on the edge of the tub, my feet in the water between your legs.

“Okay, it’s a wrap!”

Your eyes flash open and you let go of your t-shirt. The fabric bounces back, revealing your hairy tummy, teasing me. You look up at me with mischief, then give your member a squeeze.

“Get down here,” you say, almost ferocious in your voice.

I feel myself get all giddy with sudden anticipation as you rise like Poseidon from the water. Before I can do anything other than yelp, you pull me down onto you and with a splash and a thud I land against your rock-hard body. I'm instantly soaked.

“Finally,” you mutter, drenching my face and neck with hungry kisses. Your hands tease the collar of my robe before sliding it over my shoulders. Your eyes explore the curves of my upper body, then you adjust me so that I sit straddled upon you. You don’t speak a word, but your eyes and body say everything I need to know.

I feel your girth throbbing against me. You slide my robe all the way off and without taking your eyes off me, you cast it aside. Then your hands slide up my body. You cup my breasts tenderly, admiring the lace and how the new style of bra suits my breasts. You lick your lips as your thumbs begin stroking my hardening nipples. I sigh and begin grinding against the tip of your member.

You sit up and proceed to kiss and bite the flesh of my breasts. Gently holding the lace aside with your fingers, you capture my nipples between your teeth, ever so gently, before circling your tongue around them with exquisite attention. While squeezing my breasts together, you kiss them one after the other, back and forth, before venturing up to my collarbone and neck. All I can do is whimper and moan.

Then you grasp my hair, pulling my head back. Between kisses and bites on my exposed neck, you breathe damp, sultry words onto my skin. Expressions of how I’ve been a tease, how patient you’ve been and how much you want me now. I want to answer, but I can’t do anything but mutter incoherencies; your throbbing cock eagerly pressing against my core and thus stealing all of my vocabulary.

My breath quickens as I grind harder, cursing the fabrics that keep our cores from meeting, merging. Then you push me towards you, allowing our lips to meet in hungry kisses. My bra loosens. You must have managed to open and take it off me with your other hand, before also casting it aside. You grab at my liberated breasts, then sit up and pull your drenched t-shirt over your head. It lands on the bathroom floor with a splash. My hands instinctively seek the wet fur of your stomach and chest, momentarily squeezing your pecs, then wander south again.

Your eyes read pure hunger and you buck your hips. As I fall back down from the jump, my core meets the powerful strength of your pelvis, bucking yet again. I gasp, overcome by a mixture of arousal and humor. You buck again, a laugh escapes me and somehow, after a few times of this, you’ve managed to free your erection from your boxers. I didn’t notice, but at some point you must have turned on the tap again, because I see you turn it back off. I guess this increased level of water also explains the more slow-motion-like sensation I experience as I land back down on your pelvis; a somewhat softer landing than before. In my own defence, I was entranced and my mind was not functioning at 100%, hence the questionable description. Anyway, both our hips are now submerged under water and I simply shake my head at your mischievous ways. You smirk and pull me down to a deep kiss, slapping my ass through the water, making more water splash all over the place. Everything in the room is certainly wet by now.

I grind against your exposed and infinitely hard cock as your fingers slider under the lace. Your hands grab my cheeks with determination, enhancing the force and enabling you to better thrust against my grinding motion. The friction is causing short-circuits in my brain, making me see colours that aren’t there. My first climax is staggeringly near, but just before I get to release, you buck your hips again, making me scoot off your cock. A devious grin is smeared across your chiseled face.

“You had me waiting, sweetheart. Now it’s my turn to tease.”

---

Thanks for reading my shitpost! Please leave a comment of your thoughts, however nonsensical they may be 💜🙏

Tags in the reblog 🖤Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list.

#henry cavill #henry daddy #henry cavill is daddy #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill smut #henry #henry cavill x first person pov #henry cavill x poc reader #henry cavill x any colour reader #real person fic #real person fiction #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill bathtub scene #sciapod writes smut

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

Text

Crawl Home to Her

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem BAU Reader

Warnings: Religion is mentioned, slight mention of supposed homophobia, drug use, death and thoughts of dying, kidnapping (it’s Spencer’s POV of Revelations)

Author’s Note: I was listening to Work Song by Hozier and felt like it fits PERFECTLY for what Spencer was going through when he was kidnapped by Tobias. I took some creative liberties, but much of the plot lines up to the show’s episode. I linked the song if anyone wants to listen to it before they read or after, it’s such a beautiful song. Hozier is in my top three artists; his voice is just so beautiful and soulful.

Summary: The only thing that’s keeping Spencer alive is the memories of his Heaven. Maybe someone how a faithless man will escape Death’s grasp on faith alone.

Word Count: around 3.2K

Category: Angst

Crawl Home to Her

When Spencer comes to the first thing he notices is the smell of burning. The stench permeates the air around him, filling his nostrils. The second thing he notices is breathing. Breathing that is not his own. A man stands before him and it takes him a second to piece it all together. The throbbing in his head takes much of his energy. He can feel the blood drip down the back of his neck and cake onto the collar of his work shirt. Strangely, all he could think about is the time his father told him a respectable man never wore a spoiler shirt. Well dad, look at me now, Spencer thinks grimly. He hates that his father occupies his mind even when he’s about to die. He has much more beautiful things to think about than the man who called him a failure.

“They’re gone,” the shadowy figure tells him. Tobias, Spencer thinks. Tobias is the unsub.

“Who are they?,” Spencer asks, his voice must sound as cowardly as he feels. He hopes that Tobias didn’t get Y/N. He can’t live with himself if he let his partner, in more ways than one, get hurt.

“It’s just me know,” Tobias answers, in such a way that it’s almost obvious.

“Who...Who are you?” Spencer croaks. The lightbulb hanging above his head taunts him. He has the lightbulb, but where’s the ideas? Where are the answers? Where is the light of safety?

“I’m Raphael,” Tobias says, standing to his full height, towering over a trembling Spencer.

Raphael... The angel...Spencer’s mind turns but is halted by the horrible smell coming from his side. It invades his mind and nothing seems to make sense.

“What’s that smell?” he asks.

“They’re burning fish hearts and livers. Keeps away the devil,” Tobias or Raphael answers, Spencer is not too sure who he’s even talking to at this point.

“They say you can see inside men’s minds,”

“That’s not true, I-I study human behavior-” Spencer reasons, but is cut off by Tobias/Raphael’s passive shushing.

“I’m not interested in the arguments of men,” Raphael tells him. He turns around to rummage in his pocket for something that Spencer can’t make out in the dim light of the shed. Between the lightbulb blinding him and the stench of the liver burning, Spencer’s senses are overloading themselves. Focus, Spencer, focus, he begs of himself.

Don’t let him win. Don’t let him win.

Tobias pulls out a revolver and a bullet. He toys the bullet in Spencer’s face, asking him “Do you know what this is?”

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t blink. He doesn’t breathe.

“It’s God’s will,” Tobias says rationally.

The cocks the gun and aims it towards Spencer’s head. If he pulls the trigger he’d shoot him straight in his head. Staring down death, all Spencer can think about is him suggesting that they split up. He was the one who left Y/N, he’s the one that’s responsible.

“You don’t have to do this,” Spencer tries to reason.

“I’m just an instrument of God. This is your salvation, this is time to repent for your sins,” Tobias says, pulling a chair to sit next time. It’s strange, Spencer thinks, Tobias is not that much older than he is. This job has forced Spencer to think of the countless paths that he could have gone down. Part of him thinks that could have easily been on the other side, the angry part of him, the broken and sad part of him.

“Tell me your sins, and may God forgive you,” Tobias says, his voice almost as fearful as Spencer feels.

Spencer closes his eyes, trying to think of all the things he’s done wrong in his life. All the people he’s hurt or the mistakes that he’s made. But at this moment there’s nothing running through his mind by the thought of Y/N. The way she’d hold him after a case or the way that she’d listen to him with light in her eye’s. It’s nice to have someone who cares, Spencer thinks. Or at least it was.

“I’m a good man, Tobias, I’m a good man. Like you, we catch the bad guys, Tobias--we are the same. We catch the sinners.” Spencer professes, trying anything to get out of here alive. He’d do anything to get back to Y/N. To get back in her warm embrace.

“We all have our sins, including you. You just need sometime to sort them out,” Tobias says, and like that he’s gone with the wind.

***

It’s early morning when Spencer wakes up, the sun bleeds through the cracks of the wood panel door. His clothes are caked in his blood and dirt. His hair is stringy and the blood from his ear clogs his hearing. But he’s alive, he's still here, breathing the same air as Y/N. Somehow that’s enough to keep him hoping that she’d find him- save him.

The door opens with a sudden slam, Tobias walks in carrying a load of logs. There’s something different about him. Spencer thinks that there’s an air of arrogance, an air of superiority in his walk.

“What are you staring at, boy?” Tobias- or at least the man who looks like Tobias Hankel asks.

“You’re not Raphael?” Spencer reasons.

Tobias throws the pile of logs into the box on the floor of the shed. He stands up to his full height, but there’s something that’s taller about him than last night. There’s something more intimating about the man standing before Spencer.

“Do I look like Raphael to you?” Tobias asks, the sneer so apparent.

Spencer decides to ignore that, answering this person, whoever he is, is not in his best interest.

“Thank you for burning these, for keeping us safe,” Spencer says, trying to get on his good side for his sake, so he can go back to Y/N.

Y/N. If Spencer can just close off his mind and focus on her, he’d be okay. He’d get through this. If he can just close his eyes he can just feel her touch or taste her lips against his. If her kisses make him a sinner then crucify him. Least he’d die a happy man, with the promise of tomorrow with her endless love.

“Don’t try to trick me, you’re are filthy liar, you’re a disgusting sinner,”

God, Spencer thinks, waits until he hears that he’s from Vegas and fell in love with a man. Spencer focuses on breathing, not the itch from being dirty with his own blood or not the thought of impending death.

“It will be over if you confess, boy. Confess your sins!” Tobias yells.

“I’m not a sinner,” Spencer says, almost defiantly. There’s a surge of strength in Spencer, and he swears that the small memories of Y/N makes him a stronger person.

“We are all sinners”

“The Lord spoke unto Moses saying, ‘speak unto all the congregation of the children of the lord’ and say unto them, ye shall be holy, for I, the lord your god, am holy,” Spencer quotes, the fear somehow seeping back into his voice.

“You know Leviticus,” Tobias says, almost surprised. Yes, Spencer thinks, even heathens can quote the Bible.

“I know every word of the Bible, I can quote it for you?” Spencer pleads.

“Even the Devil can read,” Tobias tells him.

Spencer’s wound bleeds down his neck, the throbbing almost pounds to the beat of his heart.

“It’s time to confess, Spencer Reid,” Tobias whispers, leaning into Spencer.

“I’m a good man, Tobias. I finally found someone who puts back the pieces. I found someone who loves me, and I can’t leave her like this. I can’t do that to her.” Spencer confesses.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs,” Tobias quotes, and as he does his face seems to drift off. It’s like he's there with Spencer, but not there at the same time.

“First Corinthians, Verse 13,” Spencer recites.

“Hmm, so your parents did raise a believer,” Tobias reckons.

More or less, Spencer thinks. He might not believe in God the Almighty, some entity in the clouds watching over him, but he does believe in love and maybe even an afterlife. He has to believe in an afterlife, because if he doesn’t he’d fail to give Y/N forever.

“Yes,” Spencer says, settling on playing the part of a righteous believer.

“Yes, my parents read me the Bible. They are good people too,” Spencer tells him.

Spencer’s not really sure what happens next, but the blow to his head makes the world go black and the sweet memories of Y/N fade into the distance.

***

A cool rag presses against Spencer’s head, where he figures where “Tobias” hit him, or whoever was there with him.

Dissociative Identity Disorder. DID. DSM-5. 300.14 (F44.81). Tobias has three personalities, Spencer thinks. He remembers the day vidily. Reading about DID with Ethan, they sat on the lawn of the park near school. His memories are distrubed by a very confused looking Tobias, who hold bandages and a wet rag.

“What’s your name?” Spencer asks, hoping that whoever was there last night is gone.

“Tobias,” he says, almost meekly. Spencer recognizes something in that, somewhere deep inside him, he recognizes the fear that Tobias wears like a shield. The man here last night must have been his father...

“Who was here last night?”

“My father, Charles,” Tobias says. “I’m sorry if he hurt you.”

Tobias turns to reach in his bag, he brings out a vial of clear liquid, a needle and a long piece of cloth. He ties the long piece of cloth around Spencer’s arm, who with a sudden realization fights to get away from Tobias.

“NO! Please, NO!” Spencer yells, trying his hardest to fend off the inevitable.

“It helps, Spencer. I’m trying to save you from him! It’s gonna help, it helped me,” Tobias tells him, continuing to tie the fabric in a tight knot above Spencer’s elbow.

“Please! I don't want it!” Spencer pleads as the room folds in one him, the darkness is not welcoming, it's suffocating. It’s sucking the life out of him and he can’t escape it’s clutches.

***

There’s another person in this shed, Spencer thinks. He tries to strain his eyes to make out who it is. It’s not Tobias, the shadow is too short for him.

Y/N.

She’s wearing a dress, the blue dress that she wore on their first date. He loves that dress on her. He’s sure he’d love any dress or anything she’d put on to wear for their first date, because well, it’s their first date.

“Spencer,” her voice is even more comforting than usual. It’s syrupy sweet and he feels like he’d get a toothache just from listening.

“Sweet Spencer, you need to come home to me, okay? Come home to me baby.”

He tries to call out to her, but it’s futile. She's a ghost, but she looked so real. Maybe he’s the ghost and his eternal damnation is to haunt her. He’s able to see her, but never able to get close enough to feel the way her hands caress his checks or the way her eyes light up at his touches.

The spooky beauty of his girlfriend is whisked away with the familiar shoots of two tall, skinny figures. His parents. His father sits there on the table with a sneer on his face. His mother has this faraway look on her face. Spencer’s twelve again, listening to his father yell and slam the bedroom door as he rushes out the door, never looking back.

The shadowy figures are gone as soon as they came and are nothing but a reminder to Spencer that he’s not worthy of love. He feels guilty. He really does, but the needle going into his vein brings back Y/N and for now he wants nothing more, but to see her, even if it’s not real.

***

Spencer’s not sure if he craves the clear liquid in the vial because he gets to see Y/N or if he craves to see Y/N because gets to the liquid coursing through his veins, the slightest reminder that he’s alive.

He’s alone in the shed, but there’s a bright green light blinking. A computer, he wonders. Is this the way from the Ninth Circle of Hell? Is this his way home, his way to Y/N?

His thoughts of home and of their warm bed are interrupted by who he can only assume is Raphael, enough time has passed for him to be rising to the surface. Part of him misses Tobias, they’d probably would have been friends growing up. Two outcasts raised by a parent who meant well, but did do irreparable harm in the end.

“It’s time to choose,” Raphael announces. He points to the computer screen, which lights up. Spencer can only assume that his face is being streamed across the internet. Garcia, and probably the entire team are watching this, watching him at his lowest moment. He swore that he’d never show Y/N himself like this, even though he knows that she’ll love him still.

“Choose a member of your team to die. You are all sinners in the end, but it’s time for you to choose who dies.” Raphael tells him, his voice booming, a stark difference from the nervous murmurs of Tobias.

“No,” Spencer shouts. “Kill me, kill me instead!”

“Choose or they all die!” Raphael yells.

Think, Spencer. Think. He looks around at the shed, trying to think of an out. His eyes latch on to the shovel sitting in the corner of the room. That’s new, he realizes. A cemetery, a grave...

“I choose Y/N,” Spencer says, not truly believing what he’s saying, but praying that she gets the message.

“Why?” Raphael asks.

“She’s prideful and careless,” Spencer reasons, trying his hardest to appear nonchalant.

“Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before the fall,” Raphael quotes.

“Yes, John 14:27,” Spencer says. And with that his fate and Y/N is sealed. It’s funny in a twisted way, he always knows that his fate would be forever linked to hers, but not just in this way.

“Come on, boy. Get up,” Raphael orders him.

Spencer makes it to his feet and the pair make their way into the night.

***

Spencer’s not sure how far he’s walked, but his feet are numb and he can’t feel anything in his arm. The inside of his arm is littered with marks, a constant reminder of the cravings he’s feeling. No, he tells himself. What he craves is Y/N. He makes his way up the rocky terrain of the cemetery, hoping that she’s on her way to rescue him, hoping that she’s there to wash away the dirt and kiss his scars.

Raphael is at his side, pulling him along. It's a strange similarity to Dante and Virgil and their journey to the depths of Hell. Maybe in this scenario Spencer isn’t Dante, maybe he’s Beatrice waiting for his Dante to rescue him.

“Please, I need rest. I’m exhausted,” Spencer tries to argue, but it’s no use. Raphael’s grip on his arm only tightens.

“Keep moving,”

They arrive at the cemetery. Spencer is not ready to die. He’s not ready to die and leave Y/N. He wishes he really did believe in God because maybe, maybe he wouldn’t be as scared as he is right now.

“Dig,” Raphael tells him, tossing the shovel on the ground at Spencer’s feet.

As if he’s shaking Death’s hand, Spencer reaches down for the shovel and starts to dig. Each deposit in the mountain of dirt is a cry for help. Each time he cracks his neck in pain or rubs his hands in exhaustion is a goodbye kiss for Y/N.

Spencer stands to his full height. He’s nearly as tall as Tobias, somehow he still feels like a child.

He suspects that Tobias feels the same way. Maybe one day Spencer will come to regret his choice. Maybe one day Spencer will be grateful that he reached into the very depths of his strength to fight to the very end.

“Tell Tobias I’m sorry,” Spencer says, the tears flooding his eyes.

Spencer bangs the back of the shovel against Tobias’s head. His limp body falls to the ground and suddenly he’s terrified that Tobias is somehow still alive. Spencer scrambles for the gun and pulls the trigger. He’s not even sure how many shots he fires but the body is punctured with bloody holes. Spencer, clutches are Tobias’s lifeless body. As if he can squeeze him back to life.

He thinks he’s imagining it. He thinks that he’s on the brink of death. There’s a light, a soft yellow light beckoning him home. A voice calls out to him, clear and strong, it’s drawing him in and Spencer is crawling from his own grave to the voice that he could recognize anywhere. He’s teetering between Heaven and Hell. Y/N’s voice and light tether him home.

“Spencer!” she calls. Finally, he thinks. Finally, she’s close; he lets himself believe he’s safe.

“I’m here!” he shouts, surprised at the force of his voice.

“Oh Spencer,” she says, running to him.

She falls to the ground next to him. Spencer is scared that she’s not real, that it’s the drugs in his system again making him believe that she’s nothing but a cruel figment of his mind.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I knew you’d find me. Please forgive me, I didn’t mean it,” Spencer cries, his face tucked into the crook of her neck.

“Shhh, baby. I’d find you anywhere. Hmm, let’s get you out of here. You are safe now Spencer,” she tells him softly.

Spencer may not be a man who believes in God but he has to believe in Heaven, because Heaven is holding him in her arms.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader angst #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #mgg

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allegedlyanandroid · 3 years

Note

Hello! For the fic prompts! Can I got a 900Gavin A/B/O fic about alpha!RK900 who try to bite Omega!Gavin scent glands when they first meet because RK900 didn't have a social program but have only a primal instinct program? Could pls keep it fluff and light,plssss? 🥺 I read too many dark fics but if it couldn't then it ok too.

I took some artistic liberties with this one and made Gavin a bounty hunter for the sole purpose that I couldn’t figure out a good reason as to why Fowler would assign them as partners if Nines tried to take a bite out of him on first meeting. I mean... who can blame him though? Gavin is a snacc. Did I think to much into it? Yes, definitely. Either way, I hope you like it @therainnight, fingers crossed that it has an okay ratio of fluff in it <3

There’s nothing to suggest he’s being followed, no out-of-the-ordinary sounds, no footsteps, no nothing. Doesn’t matter. Gavin has always had good instincts and right now they’re telling him that something, or someone, is stalking him. Glancing as far behind himself as he can through his peripheral vision means he catches the glimpse of movement before it’s too late. Gavin whirls around just as he’s pushed backwards against a tree and the impact is enough to knock the breath from his lungs.

A forearm keeps him pressed against it while he stares uncomprehending at razor-sharp teeth set in a half-finished face.

‘Oh, hell no,’ is what comes to mind and it’s through pure instinctive reaction that he manages to get a hand up between them and shove it as far into the android’s mouth as he can ‒ quick enough to keep it from sinking its teeth into the glands in his neck. He’d rather lose a few fingers than be bond-mated on first meeting like some omega bride in the twentieth century. His other hand is still free so he ignores the glowing eyes peering into his soul, and the curious gnawing over the digits he unceremoniously shoved in the android’s mouth, in order to find the glowing circle in the middle of its chest. Digging his fingers into the minute crack the thirium pump regulator slides into his hand with a muted hiss, strangely warm and disgustingly slick with thirium.

The android yelps, scrambling backwards, and releases Gavin’s saliva-slick hand as it falls down in a crouch. It stares desperately at the cylinder held aloft in the air. It jolts forward when Gavin squeezes it between claw-tipped fingers until it threatens to bend under the strain and render it useless, eyes are wide and sorrowful, the glow in them sapping away with every passing second. Gavin nearly feels bad for it.

“Why are you following me?!” he demands to know, pushing the thought aside.

It doesn’t answer, shifting in place as it continues to stare at him.

“You can have this back if you tell me.” Half-truths. The android merely curls in on itself, pressing the palm of its hand against its own throat. It mouths something but the dark plating making up the lower part of his face makes it impossible to see what. Then it clicks. “You can’t talk?”

It nods.

Maybe it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when the droid looks anything but finished. Gavin can see parts of its biocomponents pulsing a subdued red behind clear panelling mixed in with sleek metal in a colour so dark it’s nearly void. The upper part of its face has synthskin, including his upper lip, but everything below is made of the same black material. Its ears nearly blend into the raven hair on its head and Gavin can’t find it in himself to be angry at it. Clearly, it’s a lost ‒ and potentially broken ‒ thing. Not unlike himself.

Gavin tosses the regulator in the android’s direction and marches on. He has a job to do after all and tracking only gets harder the longer he dawdles. Almost immediately the feeling returns and he groans out loud. The time-limit forces him to keep moving regardless of his silent companion. His target already has a two-day head start and the moment Weiss crosses the border into Canada Gavin can’t do jack-shit to him. He jerks the rifle higher on his back and continues to follow the scent of old blood laid into the earth. Evidently the bastard isn’t worried about being followed so much as setting a fast pace despite his injuries.

When night begins to fall, the shadows lengthening around him, Gavin reluctantly sets up camp. There’s maybe another two days before he catches up and seeing as they’re about a three day’s march from the border he’ll be cutting it close.

The area he finds is partly protected from the elements and close to a stream of trickling water. “I know you’re there,” he calls while rummaging around his supplies to find kindling. There’s a rustle of the underbrush to his left and the hulking mess of an android appears at the edge of camp. It looks hesitant, almost skittish, where it stands. It makes little sense given how bulky the ‘droid is and how aggressive it behaved earlier. Clearly it should be able to hold its own going off design alone. Gavin returns to ignoring it after a last wary glance and swears beneath his breath when the wood won’t catch flame.

The android shifts into his line of sight and approaches slowly, like one would a vicious or scared animal. It stops again and gestures to the attempted fire, tilting its head in question. Gavin sighs. “Sure, why not,” he shrugs. “‘s not like you can do a worse job.”

Despite the less-than-friendly tone, the android visibly perks up. Gavin watches as it rearranges the collected wood with meticulous focus before stripping one of its fingers of plating and snapping off a few wires. The resulting electric sparks is what it uses to light the kindling. The fire slowly spreads over bark and wood until they’re engulfed by flames, cracking and popping in the still evening. Satisfied, it prods at the still-sparking wires with a finger, completely transfixed by the reds, oranges and yellows found in the flickering fire.

Gavin offers a crooked grin in thanks. “Wonders of technology. You need any help with that?”

The android shakes its head no, poking the wires back in place, before clicking the plating back where it belongs. It looks to be smiling slightly as it reluctantly gathers itself up to leave.

Gavin stops it with a hand on its wrist.

“You can stay.”

It’s basic human decency Gavin tells himself when he watches the android shuffle closer to the flames, hands outstretched as if to absorb its warmth. With the light’s help he can just about make out the serial-number etched into its chassis right over its thirium pump. “RK900, “ Gavin reads, “-that’s not one I’ve heard of before.” The droid turns to him and holds up one finger, turning it afterwards to point at himself. Gavin hums. “One of a kind then. I can relate to that.”

The android slides closer, looking up with a soft “go-on” like gesture that Gavin is helpless to resist.

He wakes up the next morning feeling as if everything has tilted slightly to the left and groggily gets himself ready for the day, rolling up his sleeping bag and kicking dirt over the fire’s embers, while RK stares at him with intrigue. They begin the trek not long after with Gavin wolfing down a protein bar in lieu of breakfast. RK frowns at him then, his brows furrowed severely, but it quickly turns to confusion when Gavin sticks his tongue out at him and picks up the pace. While they walk, he contemplates when in the previous evening he began referring to RK as “he” instead of “it”. There’s no doubt that the android is alive, for lack of a better term, animated and interested and latching onto every word of Gavin’s tales the way he used to do himself when he was younger and less jaded.

Gavin, lost in thought, doesn’t notice RK disappearing for a moment. His return is difficult to miss though since he presents him with a perfectly symmetrical trientalis europaea, its yellow core surrounded by seven white petals. A stark contrast to the black hands cupping it; delicate fragility resting in palms simply not made for such sweet blossoms. There’s excitement radiating off him, nestled in his glowing eyes, which doubles when Gavin asks: “Is that for me?”

The nod is quick as RK moves his hands an inch closer. Gavin takes it with a soft “thank you.” He looks at it for a moment longer and then takes his notebook from his inner pocket to place the flower there, snapping it shut and tying it with twine to really press flat. RK preens, turning his gaze bashfully to the forest floor, while Gavin pretends his cheeks aren’t flushed red.

When at last it comes time to make camp Gavin is pleased with their progress. “The scent of blood is more prominent. Even if he’s on scent blockers I can pick up smoke from the campfire. We’re getting close.”

His statement prompts an explanation about the reason he’s in the woods to begin with. The concern he shows upon hearing of Gavin’s chosen field of work is quickly dismissed with a: “I managed to bring you down, didn’t I?” which RK’s lips twitch at. He settles even closer to Gavin today, surreptitiously scenting the air between them, until Gavin asks him about it point-blank.

‘You smell nice,’ RK writes out on a torn-out page in Gavin’s book. ‘It’s what drew me in.’

“I smell like fuck-all while on blockers.”

‘Leather, coffee, something sweet like honey.’ It takes a moment before RK writes the next part: ‘You’re an omega.’

Gavin is still reeling when the last part of the sentence hits him like a punch to the gut. He takes his blockers near religiously, there’s no way RK should be able to‒

...but then the air around him floods with hints of metal and ozone. He’d smelled it before, when RK first came at him, but it had been absent since.

An alpha.

As soon as the scent envelops him it lessens again. ‘It’s hard to concentrate, to control myself, unless I turn that part of my programming off. Although, it means I have to get in close to smell anything.’

Gavin doesn’t know what to say to that, to any of it, so he remains quiet even if he doesn’t move away to allow RK to take in his scent as he pleases.

The weather dips dangerously in the late night and Gavin wakes up shivering. “Fuck, dammit,” he curses. Maybe he should keep moving. Catch the fucker earlier and finally get away from here. ‘Terrible plan,’ Gavin reminds himself as another shiver wracks through his body. Weiss is an alpha and as much as Gavin loathes to admit it, they are stronger than him. His strength is his speed and precision, dancing out of people’s range until they tire, or using his omega status as a lure. The last one wouldn’t help him here and the former only works if he’s well-rested and alert.

RK is just now stoking the fire. It helps, a bit, but Gavin is still feeling numb; fingers and toes hurting when he attempts to stretch them out.

“Hey, RK. C’mere a second.”

The android obeys without question, crouching down next to where Gavin has struggled into a sitting position. He places his hands against RK’s bare chassis to test his theory. There’s a low thrumming vibration beneath his fingertips and the metal is surprisingly warm to the touch. RK moves to clasp Gavin’s hands between his own and slowly rubs over them, keeping them covered while his chassis suddenly generates more heat.

Once they’re an appropriate temperature again RK moves to sit behind him. Gavin watches him, a question etched clearly into his eyes, but RK merely lays down, waiting and watching. Glacially slowly Gavin joins him on the ground and the android smiles shyly before turning his back on him. Gavin mirrors him once more, shuffling until they lie back to back, and both the warmth from the fire and RK enveloping him is a comfort he didn’t know he needed.

The morning after is filled with glances out of the corner of his eye, with the urge to hold RK’s stupid hand, and he wonders when he became so starved of touch, of someone showing the slightest bit of kindness to him, that two days are enough to want to pull RK down by his hair and kiss him senseless.

They catch up to Weiss a short few hours later and Gavin presses the rifle into RK’s hands as a safety precaution before throwing himself into the fight. It’s quick and dirty with Gavin using every trick in the book to gain the upper hand while dancing around the wildly thrown punches. Grinning through the rush of adrenaline Gavin eventually stops toying with the man and brings him down with a few precise kicks and punches. He locks handcuffs around Weiss’ wrists, arms behind his back, while Weiss shouts abuse and obscenities at him. Gavin pays it no mind, explaining with a sick sense of satisfaction that the cuffs aren’t coming off without a DNA signature from his friend and that running would mean a slow death for him left out in the elements. “Truth be told, I don’t care whether or not you’re still breathing when I bring in proof of your capture. I can afford to lose the difference in compensation.”

Weiss falls limp at that while Gavin slowly rises to his feet. When he looks up, remembering they’re not alone, RK is standing still as a statue. He stalks over, bearing a striking resemblance to a predator approaching prey, and presses right up into Gavin’s personal space to shove his nose into his neck and inhale. A rumbling noise is caught in his throat, a growl that has Gavin’s knees weakening slightly, as sharp teeth graze over his throat. Ozone and metal. Wicked claws not present before gripping his jaw tightly.

He reaches up to stick his thumb in RK’s mouth, pressing it down on his tongue with narrowed eyes. RK pricks it with his fangs and laps at the drop of blood with his tongue, all the while keeping eye contact. It makes Gavin squirm, just a little bit, and he’s thankful the heat suppressors keep him from getting wet or the walk back would be uncomfortable to say the least. With a graze of his teeth, RK loosens his hold and puts distance between them again, eyes dark and wanting.

Weiss tries to run about two thirds of the way back and Gavin sighs as he readies his reclaimed rifle. Turns out he never has to use it. RK’s head snaps up and he tracks the man’s erratic patterns for a second before giving chase. He’s practically a blur of movement and Gavin watches, transfixed, as he takes Weiss down in one graceful leap. The lack of being able to catch himself smacks Weiss’ head hard against the ground. RK doesn’t seem to care about the man’s dazed state as he drags him back to Gavin, his claws buried deep into the sides of his neck, hand cupping the back of it. He tosses him at Gavin’s feet and offers a razor-sharp grin, nudging the guy with the tip of his foot.

Gavin gives him a light kiss on the cheek for his help and can almost imagine the tail wagging behind him with excitement at the gesture of affection.

What doesn’t fit the crumbling infrastructure in the slums or the dingy office he rents for cheap is the well-kept lady in smart business attire standing next to him behind the desk.

Maurice Gacy, the guy they usually make business with, is a weasel of a man. His thin greasy hair and slimy smile fits his role of lowlife criminal perfectly. His side hustle of collecting bounties for the Guild is the only reason Gavin interacts with him, puts up with his leering and comments. Trust only extends so far between them but... all in all he gives the money owed and he keeps his mouth shut when talking to the cops which is all that really matters in the end.

RK tenses behind him, something Gavin senses in the clicking of his machinery, and Gavin frowns at the broad smile beginning to stretch over her face. “You found it,” she says lightly, walking in a measured pace while Gacy warily trails behind, heels clicking across the linoleum.

Gavin takes a step forward to meet her and bares his teeth in a snarl. “Back off.”

She nods sagely, uncaring for his hostility and lengthening canines. “Yes, of course. Money first. Always the same with you lot, isn’t it?” The node she produces from her fitted jacket flares to life and he stares, heart stuttering in his chest, at the very familiar face displayed.

WANTED

RK900, MODEL NUMBER #313 248 317 - 87

REWARD: 1.000.000 $

HIGHLY VOLATILE AND EXTREMELY DANGEROUS

PREFERABLE IF IT REMAINS OPERABLE UPON COLLECTION

Metal and ozone laced with a bitter tinge resembling fear.

A flower stuck between yellowing pages.

Viscous saliva and thirium dripping from his hands.

Whatever RK’s crime can Gavin truly bear to have more of his blood on them when it’s sure to stain them always? The thought is on the forefront of his mind when RK walks up to stand by his side, resignation already home in eyes and slowly sapping them of light, and in that moment, Gavin has his answer.

His arm shoots out to block RK from moving further and slowly raises his chin in defiance. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

They’re all staring at him, RK with a mix of wonder and trepidation, so Gavin sets his jaw and forces calm into his voice. “You can fuck right off with that shit, he’s not the reason we’re here.” With a nod to Tina, she steps forward and shoves Weiss at Gacy. Thankfully he’s too much of a coward to pick a fight and transfers the agreed upon money to her before whisking Weiss away towards the back. Tina raises an eyebrow at him, bumping their shoulder together lightly as she walks out the door, and Gavin has never been as thankful to have her as he is right now when the unmistakable sound of an engine rumbling to life filters in from outside. “Come on, we’re done here.”

It’ll start a shitstorm, that’s for damn sure, but with RK leaning forward to peer out the front window as they tear through the streets, Gavin can’t find it in himself to care.

#allegedly answering asks #dbh gavin #gavin reed #dbh rk900 #rk900 #reed900 #dbh #detroit: become human #detroit become human #mini fic #my writing #is nines courting gavin in this to the best of his abilities?#yes absolutely #does gavin know?#debatable #he's both thick and thicc if you know what i mean

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edema--ruh · 2 years

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Okay so I have a (hopefully) interesting question to ask you! I see right now you’re translating TWYUTD from English to Brazilian Portuguese and I wanted to ask about your whole process. I’m assuming that Brazilian Portuguese is your native language but please correct me if I’m wrong!! Also, this ask is coming from someone whose first language is English and not quite fluent in a second language (although I’m still working on it) and I find translating to be such a fascinating art. When translating, do you go sentence by sentence, taking a more literal approach? Or do you take passages from the original and modify it in order to make it sound more natural in BR-Portuguese? How would you say the story differs tone-wise in BR-Portuguese compared to English? Are there any other features you find different in the BR-Portuguese translation compared to the original English?

This is a very interesting question! Thank you for sending this to me! For starters, I my job IRL has to do with quality control for audiovisual translation (i.e. translation for TV, in the form of subtitles and dubbing). That means I'm more or less used to translation processes and I also majored in Anglistics, meaning I had a few classes on translation. But TWYUTD is soooo long that translating it by myself would be equivalent to writing it all over again -- because that's the first thing you need to know about translating. When you translate a work, you create a new version of it. It's like rewriting the story, only in a different language. In the case of TWYUTD, I'm creating a Brazilian version of the story, I'm not merely transcribing it in a literal way into a different language (does it make sense?) There are terms that simply don't exist in Portuguese, there are words and nicknames that need to be adapted to the Brazilian speech reality, or else the translation would seem really literal and flat and meaningless and that was not my goal doing this. My goal was to make the story available to people in my country who aren't priviledged enough to speak English as a second language, in a way that doesn't stray from the heart of the original story and that is still as funny, enjoyable and comprehensible as the original.

Because of the length of the story, I have assembled a team of incredible people who volunteered to help me translate it into my mother tongue. I translate some chapters myself, but they also translate other chapters and send them to me to read and approve the translation. We created a glossary with reccurrent terms/nicknames/catchphrases so that we could all translate them the same way when they showed up in the story. We have adapted some stuff when it comes to characters' nicknames and reccurent phrases. E.G., we have a cookie in Brazil called "Trakinas", which comes in several different colors. One of the colors is half-white, half-pink, so regarding Todoroki, instead of translating "Icy Hot" literally (which would be something flat and lacking meaning like "Gelo-Quente" or "Frio-Quente"), we call him "Trakinas". There's also an ice cream in Brazil called "Napolitano", which is half-vanilla and half-strawberry, so we also call Todoroki "Napolitano". Those were artistic liberties I took as the writer of the original story and allowed other people to take regarding my work because I wanted people who don't speak English to enjoy the story as much as they possibly can in a way that makes sense to them. I have to admit that translating Bakugou's swearwords is a very complicated process, on the other hand, because Portuguese (as most romantic languages) don't use "fuck" as an adverb. So we have to adapt his speech in a way that still keeps a swearword, but in a different structure in the sentence.

Long story short, we try to keep from literal translations as much as we can. We do a process called "domestication" in the translation field, which means we adapt the reality of the story into our own Brazilian one. I hope this answers your question! ^_^

#twyutd

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hellothere-generalangsty · 3 years

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I HAD A BRAIN WAVE MOMENT

DO YOU REMEMBER WAYYYY BACK WHEN EVERYONE HATED ASOKA? DAVE DID THAT ON PURPOSE SO HE WAS IN CONTROL OF WHAT PEOPLE HATED ABOUT HER. OK NOW THIS MIGHT BE A LONGSHOT THAT HOPEFULLY DOESN’T END UP LIKE LONGSHOT THE CLONE, BUT, IM HOPING THATS WHATS DAVE IS DOING WITH TBB. BEING IN CONTROL OF WHAT THE FANDOM HATES ABOUT IT AND THEN IMPROVING IT SLOWLY BIT BY BIT.

PLEASE IM DESPERATE FOR A EXPLANATION!

(also where’s my explanation about why the clones are white washed, dave? hmm? where is it dave?)

OMG LOOK.

It wouldnt excuse the whitewashing or the weak scenario, because he got us used to some good stuff now (tcw s7, Mandalorian, that kind of things)

But it would make sense - to a certain extent - to work that season as a "cliché team in a cliché scenario" and see how people react to be able for a second season (if there's a second season) to improve it

Disclaimer: I'm a white, abled person so I'm not trying to speak on behalf of poc/disabled people, but I think it's important to support them and listen to the critics they make about SW and it's content

Also this is quite long I got carried away but worth it it is!

I linked some of @rebekadjarin 's post here because I read a bit through her blog today and agreed with her posts; and I invite you to check out the "#whitewhashed tbb" if you want more extanded and developed information about that matter! (As my knowledge on the matter is still quite limited/ incomplete due to my privileges, and this post is more of a summary than a real analysis)

So here, we know that the fans are unhappy about:

- the whitewashing of the Bad Batch (especially since they proved they could animate dark skinned people/ more generally poc with the first seasons of tcw, Kanan in Rebels and the Separatist in the latest TBB episode)

It is a real problem and it shouldn't have happened in the first place. Even if they are different, the Batchers are still clones and it's really not that hard to show their enhancement while keeping Temuera's features and skin colour (I mean, look at all the artists who did and do it everyday on this app; no excuse here)

Star Wars has wasted a lot of potential on numerous occasions because they keep doing stuff like this; and it's quite ironic (and very sad) to see that racism, ableism and stereotypes are prevalent in a universe where people fight for equality and peace...

Here and here are two posts about it (if you're the author of these posts and want me to delete them from my post please tell me so; I took the liberty of adding them because I think they highlight quite well the issue and do a clear job at showing the whitewashing in SW/ around the clones)

- the way Crosshair is treated; both by the Batchers and the writers, he's manipulated by the chip yet no one is talking about rescuing him and we see nothing about the effect of his absence on the Batchers (they don't mention him, don't try to save him, and Hunter is more distraught by Omega's absence than by his own brother's)

And don't get me wrong, Omega is a kid and she's nice, of course they have to take care of her and protect her

But they also don't know her purpose; why is she here? She could be a bad omen (maybe she doesn't even know it! The Kaminoans probably didn't tell anyone about her real purpose and I stand by the idea that the infos they got about her are all wrong and purposefully misleading) and I have the dark feeling that she will be the end/ death of the Batchers by the end of the serie, even if she didn't wanted it that way

But Crosshair is never mentionned, except for when he's needed in the scenario. Which is a shame, because he's a Batcher too even if he's mind-controlled and (for now) working for the Empire. He's supposed to be a main character, and he's a key element to the plot; yet out of 10 episodes we saw him in only 3, and only the moments where he was acting bad (i'm excluding the lonely moment at the end of ep2 because it had a lot of potential about him fighting the chip but that was all we had and i'm still bitter about it lol)

Here is a post about it

- speaking of plot; I feel like it's always the same disk playing since episode 2-3: They have a mission given by Cid, they do it, things go wrong, Omega saves the day and they get the money.

Crosshair is doing bad guy stuff so no need to tall about him (haha right?)

Now. I'm a good public. I know when to activate the Dummie™ in me and enjoy a show about a found family doing crazy jobs for a criminal and raising a newly adopted daughter at the same time. It's fun, it's sweet, sometimes it get emotional and the animation is beautiful (the lights are amazing I am always in awe)

I can enjoy it and be in awe and see Echo sniffing food and Tech smiles and Wrecker playing with Omega and feel happy about it.

But I also expected more. I hadn't any clear idea because I didn't wanted to set expectations (how ironic) but I can't help but feel sad about the wasted potential around Empire! Crosshair and the rise of said Empire.

If you want to antagonize one of the main character, do it, but do it fully and do it well. Show us Crosshair getting really invested in a plan to catch the Batchers and suddenly making a scene for a tiny detail that could blow it up; show us Crosshair and Hunter fighting each other hand to hand after they disarmed each other, and Crosshair getting the upoer hand until something holds him back; just enough for Hunter to take control again

Show us a complex character who suffers but doesn't fully realise it, and show us brothers mourning yet hoping to get the family back again you know?

- the way Echo is treated by the Batchers. And as much as it saddens me, they do him dirty in the show.

Echo is a war veteran, an ex- prisoner and a disabled character. He went through a lot; first he lost the Domino squad, then he lost brothers on Kamino (including 99 who was close to his squad), then the Citadel happened and he lost both his legs, an arm, his freedom, his brothers and probably any hope to be saved.

Then they found him in that freezer, and he probably realised that, if Fives wasn't here to save him, it meant he lost him too.

Then he left Rex to go with a team of 4 because he probably didn't feel like he belonged with "regs" anymore; he chose strangers over brothers because he thought he couldn't find his place there. Which in itself is sad and problematic.

And now he's with the Batchers, and they don't seem to grasp the importance of his trauma. I mean; they always had the 4 of them and never lost a brother (apart from Cross; which is another wasted potential here because they could have exploited that trauma and made a parallel with Echo being so used to losing brothers and them experiencing it for the first time on such a personal level you know) and they do some crappy stuff to him.

Selling him as a droid? Not cool.

Brushing off his trauma for a mission and some credits? Not. Cool.

And Echo can't say anything because he chose them, and now he has nowhere to go anyway because Order 66 happened; and he probably doesn't want to be a burden to Rex, and he probably doesn't want to abandon his brothers especially now that Cross is gone and they have a child to take care of

But yeah there are a lot of things happening - or NOT happening - around Echo and his trauma and his disability that are wrong and people are right to talk about it

Here is a post I read and I agree with it

- Overall, the way the show and the characters are handled; they often feel very stereotyped/ cliché and the basic plot doesn't really help for character development or improvement

I read a post about it and it was really interesting; they linked the whitewashing of the characters with their abilities/enhencement

Tech and Crosshair are the smartest and the whitest in the group (which is bad)

Wrecker is portrayed as the Bid Dummie™ and he's the one with the "darker" skin and the features closest to Temuera/ Maōri features (also very bad)

Hunter is straight up a Rambo with a face tattoo, and Echo - and you guys know I love him - is whiter than a sheet of paper (all so bad)

Not only this, but there is no improvement in their personality or thinking

They don't seem to evolve, and just like their mission, they end up playing the same song over and over again

Hunter is the broody soldier and though people enjoy talking to him as a Dad (count me in) but he's not a good dad for Omega (he calls her soldier and is always acting awkward and uncomfortable around her)

Wrecker could be a better dad for her; but again they display him as a big dummie and give the impression he couldn't take well care of her

Tech is here to be the smart one, we only see him when they need someone to do the smart speaking and the complicated computer things

Echo is the grumpy reg, the "more droid than man" and sometimes the Mom™ but they never show him talking about the Empire or the trauma or how the I am not Freaking Out™ I did came back for this Shit™ he's just here to... Be here and be grumpy and bring the oldest clone wars fans to watch TBB

And Crosshair is almost non-existent.

Here is another post about it

What could it be then?

So either Dave is pulling a Ahsoka on us; but he'll still have a lot of things to correct and explanations to give because I can excuse a bad plot but I draw the line at blatant racism ans ableism (especially when they KNOW the fans and they KNOW what people want and they KNOW it would probably bring more people to enjoy and get invested in the show)

- If he's doing this, he will probably work with the animator to correct the whitewashing (because it really is the only really wrong thing in the animation, the rest of it is quite good to be honest like the light, framing and all)

- Understand that Tbb and Mandalorian are two different shows and cannot be treated the sale way; so he'll get back to the main plot and hopefully work on Crosshair's arc and hos his absence/ him being controlled by the chip affects him/ the Batchers/ their relation

- He'll probably work more on displaying the effect of their trauma; collective and personal, and see how it reflects on their relations (and give Echo the healing he deserves)

- By extension, give the characters more depth and complexity, dig their stereotypical surface and reveal their true nature (show me a ruthless yet easily overwhelmed Hunter; a smart but constantly anxious Tech, a very emotional Wrecker playing the big explosive dummie to protect himself, etc.)

Well, that's what I would do

Or he's just... Doing this and not planning any changes; in which case I'll probably do what I did with SPN s15: stop watching, scroll through tumblr to get some infos and gifs and tell everyone about how dirty they did the characters, and they did us.

But I really hope he's hearing us and taking our remarks into account; the show in itself had a lot of potential and I'm still hanging on the thin hope that the ending could "save it"; but I also have no expectations and am in fact waiting for a disappointing ending

On a brighter note, I'm glad the fandom exists because I see artists and writers and gif-makers and theorists and all kind of people creating and sharing their own content, headcanons, art, writing and they all feel right and better than the canon

Like yes, give me a in-character dark skinned clone who deals with his trauma and the sudden changes around him in a realistic way

Tell me about the real effects of the war on soldiers, and the truth behind the corrupted government taking over the galaxy, and the efforts everyone has to make to survive, exist and live together

If Dave and his team cannot do it, I know you guys can and that's why I'm glad to be here too; you give me hope when they fail to do so 💙

I hope I like... Answered this correctly? 😂 I got carried away but yeah, though I'm usually not vocal about it and try to enjoy it with my Dummie Energy™ I still see and read about what you all think, and usually I agree with you; the show deserved better and we deserved better

Now back to ignoring the canon and writing a fic about my very much alive and beloved Fives 🥰

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #mesa shitposts #mesa answers #namesmox 💗#thank you for your ask!#it's a long rent #but I'm glad I did it #if you feel like I said something incorrect please do tell me #I am still learning #and I want to educate myself about these matters because it's important #echo #crosshair #tech #hunter #wrecker #omega #personal opinion

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