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dirtyvulture · 10 months

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Something’s in the Air - Part 1

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: Natasha returns from a mission after being exposed to a chemical that makes her extremely, extraordinarily feral for you.

Word count: 2362

AN: Here is the opening act of the long-awaited collaboration with @jedi-luca! Enjoy, sinners!

Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

Natasha races down the empty hallway, trying to ignore the blaring alarms and flashing lights overhead. She can’t read any of the symbols marking the doors, and all she knows is that she’s looking for one with a triangle in the center of three overlapping circles, like a variation on the classic biohazard sign.

“You find him yet, Nat?” Clint buzzes in her earpiece.

“Not yet,” she responds.

“Well, you’ve only got about another minute before HYDRA agents flood the building–”

“I know!” she snaps, her eyes finally settling on a triangle surrounded by three circles. “I found it!”

“Get him and let’s go!”

Natasha doesn’t need to be told twice, and she inputs the ten-digit code into the keypad on the door. It lights green to grant her access and she steps into a tiny, square room, no bigger than a broom closet, the heavy steel door automatically closing behind her.

“Uh oh,” she says when she hears the door click shut.

Suddenly, a white smoke starts to fill the tiny room, jetting out from the piping running along the walls and ceiling. Natasha covers her mouth with her arm, fumbling on her belt for a proper mask. The smoke stings her eyes and burns her throat, but the initial shock of pain is quickly overtaken by a warm, fuzzy feeling. Natasha staggers back into the wall, not even feeling the impact of the solid concrete as her stomach clenches in a way that’s familiar and foreign at the same time.

But just as quickly as it had started, the pipes stop pumping out the gas and it clears away through the vents. She wipes at her watering eyes and sees a door in front of her with no lock. More cautiously this time, she opens it and finds herself staring down a young boy behind a glass wall.

“Clint, I found him.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha safely extracts the boy, wrapping him up in a ragged blanket she found on his bed, and carries him out in a bundle. She meets Clint just in time before the HYDRA agents realize their base has been compromised. They leave the boy in the custody of a SHIELD van and six agents. Natasha gives him a chocolate before they part ways. Her and Clint escape on the Quinjet, only breathing a sigh of relief once they are safely hidden amongst the clouds.

“When I was trying to get him, I got sprayed with something,” she tells him in a low voice.

“With what?” Clint doesn’t take his eyes off the dashboard.

“I don’t know.”

“You seem fine.”

As if on cue, the same sharp pain that she experienced upon first inhaling the smoke punches her stomach again and she doubles over.

“Shit,” she curses, trying to massage out the ache and feeling her cheeks flame in embarrassment when she finally realizes what the pain reminds her of. Although she wouldn’t describe it as a pain, but that feeling of being so aroused she wants to burst.

“Nat?”

“Uh, never mind,” she says, not wanting to get into details with him.

“I’ll call ahead and have Dr. Cho ready to see you in the medical bay,” he says.

“I–Wait, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Natasha says, but Clint won’t listen to her, he’s already typing out a message to send to the doctor.

Natasha grumbles wordlessly and takes the seat next to Clint, glancing back to make sure the boy is okay. She isn’t sure about why HYDRA had him or why SHIELD made such a point to send in some of their best Avengers to free him. But sometimes, the less details they knew the better, and now she had to worry about what exactly had been in that smoke.

She takes her phone out from the backpack under the chair and sends you a text. But it’s almost three in the morning, so her text goes unanswered. With another 30 minutes until they’re home, Natasha boredly scrolls back up in the conversation, her attention caught by some of the old pictures you’ve sent her.

The first one she looks at is probably the most innocent of the bunch, a slightly blurred snapshot of you post-workout, your skin gleaming with sweat and your muscles pumped. Natasha bites her lip as her eyes trace down the veins on your stomach, following their path to the waistband of your shorts, which is not quite low enough to reveal perhaps her favorite body part of yours.

She quickly skips to the next picture, which is much more scandalous and should not be viewed in a public setting, but luckily Clint is sitting in front of her. You’re lying down, the camera positioned down towards your muscular legs, but Natasha’s attention is drawn to the thick cock you have your hand wrapped around. Her center clenches around nothing; Natasha wishes she had your length inside of her, ramming into her hard and fast, until you came undone and pumped your seed deep into her womb.

“Fuck,” she mutters to herself, crossing one leg over the other, trying to alleviate the pulsing at her core and failing. There was still so much time left until they landed, she didn’t know how she was going to survive. Out of pure desperation, she considers touching herself (still in the vicinity of where Clint can hear her, but he can turn his hearing aid down, can’t he?) right there in the Quinjet, and it takes all of her mental strength to keep her hands on her knees. She doesn’t know what’s gotten into her, why she’s so horny all of a sudden.

All she knows is if she doesn’t have you inside her in the next hour, she may actually die.

Using her advanced Red Room torture resistance techniques, Natasha barely clings to her sanity for the next 30 minutes. She grinds herself subtly on her seat, although it does next to nothing to ease the ache in her stomach.

“Can’t you fly faster?” she asks Clint eventually through gritted teeth. “It’s not like there’s any traffic in the sky.”

“I’m doing my best,” Cint responds.

“Well, going a little faster would be nice.”

Clint doesn’t bite back at her even though he wants to. Overall, Natasha seems okay even after her exposure to the unknown gas, but Clint knows his best friend better than herself. Something is bothering her–badly–and she doesn’t want to talk about it, which means it can only be one thing.

Natasha wants to cry in relief when the iconic “A” of the Avengers Tower comes into view. She practically hijacks the controls from Clint trying to land the plane faster, but just before she can sprint out of the Quinjet, Clint grabs onto her.

“You have to see Dr. Cho first,” Clint says sternly, holding onto her arms in a vice grip.

“I don’t want to see the doctor. I want Y/N,” Natasha says, almost in tears. Her core is practically on fire at this point and she wouldn’t be surprised if her panties are ruined.

“Y/N will be there,” Clint assures her, dragging her to the elevator and going one floor down. Despite the early hour, Dr. Cho waits sleepily to greet them at the entrance of the medical bay. Natasha practically throws a fit as Dr. Cho escorts her to a private room, while Clint disappears without an explanation.

“I’m fine, Doctor,” Natasha insists as Dr. Cho has her sit down on the edge of the plastic bed.

“Agent Barton said you may have been exposed to some unknown chemical,” Dr. Cho says, shining a bright penlight into her eyes and opening her mouth to examine her tongue and tonsils.

“I’m fine,” Natasha repeats, shifting agitatedly and crinkling the white paper covering the bed.

Dr. Cho squints at her. “I’ll be back to run some more tests,” she says, disappearing with a flip of her white lab coat.

Natasha groans and falls back on the bed, unzipping the collar of her uniform down to her chest, flapping her hands to cool her face. She thinks back to the pictures of you she looked at on her phone and before she can even stop herself, sticks her hands down her pants, ignoring how unusually wet she is, her fingers gliding through her soaked folds to press into herself.

“Fuck,” she mutters, kicking her legs wider to find a more comfortable position. Natasha can easily fit three fingers into herself already, a feat that normally takes some working up to, although it pales in comparison to the size of your cock. She pants at the thought of you on top of her, your body hot and heavy against hers, the feeling of your muscles flexing as you devote your strength to pleasuring her. She clenches hard around her fingers, trying to imagine them as your cock instead, hard and throbbing, stretching her apart in the best of ways and filling her better than any toy or substitute can.

Suddenly, there is a knock on her door and Natasha pauses mid-thrust.

“Nat? Babe, it’s me,” your croaky voice says on the other side.

“Come in!” she responds.

You open the door, still in your pajamas. Clint had called you until you woke up, telling you that while the mission had been a success, Natasha had come down with something and you needed to see her immediately. Without properly dressing, you staggered down to the medical bay, worried about your girlfriend despite your own exhaustion and delirium from being woken up at three in the morning.

And now you stare at her, jaw dropped, as Natasha is lying on the hospital bed, her hand disappearing down her shorts, her forehead covered in a light layer of sweat.

“Are you–” you start.

“I need you,” she begs, removing her hand and your heart thumps when you see that it is completely soaked in her slick. “Y/N, please, I need you.”

“What happened?” you ask, as your legs seem to have a mind of their own and gravitate to her side. Natasha reaches out for you, her hand twisting in the front of your shirt to draw you closer. She tugs it up, trying to shove her hand into the waistband of your shorts next and you stop her gently. “Nat.”

“I got sprayed with something while I was trying to free the subject,” she says, clawing at your abs. “At first it didn’t seem to affect me, but when we were on the way back, I just felt this overwhelming need…for you.”

“For me?”

She nods, biting her lip and looking at you with her bedroom eyes. Suddenly, your whole body lights awake, and you strip out of your shirts and shorts, climbing on the bed with Natasha and the structure squeaks under your added weight. Natasha pulls you on top of her, frantically wiggling out of her suit so she can feel you skin-to-skin. She kisses you ferociously, bruising your lips and clacking her teeth against yours, but you respond with equal enthusiasm, not really sure why she’s so desperate for you all of a sudden but not going to complain either.

You roll your hips in a gyrating motion, dragging your hardening cock along the insides of her slick thighs, unable to help yourself when you let out a moan at her impressive wetness. You’ve never seen her so ready for you, and you know you’ll have no trouble slipping inside.

“Fuck, fuck,” Natasha pants, dragging her nails along the muscular planes of your back and gripping onto your butt. “Stop teasing, baby,” she begs, trying to guide you to her entrance but you hold back.

“I haven’t even gone in and you’re already going to cum,” you point out, although you’re surprisingly close yourself, seeing how turned on your girlfriend is for you. You look down to see your cock shining with her wetness, the veins on it throbbing.

“I can’t cum without you,” Natasha says, and you lose all patience and discipline. You line yourself up with her entrance and push in hard, moaning when wet velvet wraps around your cock and Natasha moans in absolute relief at finally being filled. You pound into her, the muscles in your thighs and abs flexing like steel bands. Natasha keens as she takes you, knowing that you’re the only one who can bring her to a high that will have her entire body shaking, her lungs screaming, her nails marking red lines down your shoulders and back that everyone will see when you go to the gym tomorrow.

“God, Nat, you’re so wet,” you say between thrusts, using all your strength to hold yourself upright, when Natasha’s pussy is so tight and hot around you that your thighs are trembling and you can’t focus on anything other than the heat between your legs. You want to last longer, so you broaden your strokes, slowing down your pace but burying yourself even deeper with each thrust.

“Yes, just like that,” Natasha moans as the head of your cock presses against her sensitive walls. “Keep going, baby. Don’t stop.” She wants you to be buried to the hilt when you release her load, she wants to drain you of every drop you have to offer.

“Almost…there…” you grunt, squeezing her hips tighter as you pin her against the bed. The ball of arousal in your stomach burns hotter as you near your peak, and Natasha knows your body well enough to sense that your finish is near. She pulses around you harder and you drop your head against her breasts, panting like you’re running the last mile of a marathon. “Nat, Nat I’m gonna–”

It takes one more powerful thrust that causes the entire hospital bed to collapse under your combined weight. You jerk your hips forward as your cum shoots out of your cock in short, hard bursts. Natasha practically cries in relief as you fill her to the brim.

At the same second all of this is happening, Dr. Cho comes back into the room. She says nothing, only nodding in immediate understanding and quickly backing out.

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

AN: Part 2 by @jedi-luca is here!

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content.

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader

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xqueen-of-disasterx · 6 months

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Enemy

Kinktober day 3

Paring: Spiderwoman!reader x Venom!Nat

Warnings: SMUT, dub-con, fingering, tendril sex, Venom forming a dick, (I’m sorry), degradation, humiliation, public sex, breeding kink, nipple stimulation, orgasm control,

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!

A/N: I’m very sorry if you read this Lewis

Masterlist- Kinktober

The rain was purring onto the dirty streets of New York washing away all the grease left by the city however the read dirt stayed; they had to be taken care of by you. You were Spiderwoman since you had turned 17 a few years back and since then the streets were your life. Your mornings, your noons, your evenings even your nights had been spent cleaning this city from its dirt. There was simply no time of a committed relationship, even though you had tried and failed with what you thought would be the love of your life. Unsurprisingly being a superhero barley covered anyones bills not like it had been implied by the comics you had spent your whole youth reading. You couldn’t quit either Spiderwoman was a symbol. A symbol of hope and kindness when every institution failed you had been there protecting those who couldn’t do it themselves.

Sitting alone in your one bedroom apartment you were certain that being a super hero in high school was a lot easier than making it your profession in adulthood. Your head was planted upon your desk your eyes threatening to fall asleep from sheer exhaustion. You barely listened to the frequency of the police radio. You were quickly awoken by the news of a black human like monster being sighted by civilians. You were in your suit in record time pulling your mask over your tired eyes before swinging into the cold city. You swung over the busy traffic of the the New York streets.

Arriving at the described location you realised that the object of your attention was no where to be found. Not a trace from it left. Your curiosity got the better of you. In your years of being a superhero and fighting against the green goblin and people made of sand nothing could shock you anymore. Oh how wrong you were. But this was something something, new something exciting which could potentially make your boring life a bit more exciting.

The police was just as clueless as you were so you started to search around the area yourself. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until you made out a red headed woman alone in a dark alleyway. You came closer to her this probably wouldn’t help your search but she had a strange aura around her pulling you in. She seemed a bit nervous perhaps her green eyes fixated on your athletic form. She looked older than you maybe in her mid 30s but you weren’t sure.

“Can I help you this is a dangerous neighbourhood.” The woman face changed to a smirk “Well” she started “I’m sure you can help me in a personal way” Flirting and especially sleeping with civilians was off limits but you were desperate. It had been months since the last time you had another woman at your mercy. “I’m sure I can be of great-” you could see the womans eyes widen as she looked over your shoulder in the same moment your spider senses went off. Was something behind you? You turned around to see nothing you were confused for a second until you felt a force wrestling you onto the ground. You managed to turn to onto your back only to face a black slimy creature. You stared into its big white eyes as it slowly opened it mouth to reveal its many white razor sharp teeth. It seemed to have multiple rows of them all tripping in salvia. Its velvet tongue had an impressive size as it hovered above your masked face. Salvia tripped onto your face as you tried to move away.

“You were right Nat… she is stupid” the creature above you remarked in its deep voice. “Hey” you squeaked higher than you had intended to. The goo pulled back to reveal the beautiful red head again. “Oh look V she looks so shocked” she snarled at you pulling her arms from the black slime but your hands remained pinned to the concrete. Her hand gripped onto your mask pulling it up as you shook your head to side violently. Never once did you get unmasked but she did it gripping onto your chin so you couldn’t move. “You are a pretty one spider girl.” “Fuck you” you bit back. She responded in laughter making you blush in humility. “Oh no I’m gonna fuck you sweet girl” she said in between laughter.

***

“Please” you whimpered desperately your face pressed against the hard brick wall. The position you were in was beyond embarrassing. Complete naked bend forward black tendrils running over your naked form with her fingers deep inside of you pressing against you g spot. “Who would’ve guessed the symbol of hope would be such a slut. Look you are dripping down your legs like a penny whore” she slapped your ass making you cry out for more. “More” you whined feeling the tendrils rolling over your nipples.

She moved her fingers at her brutal pace curling and twisting as you clenched down. “I- I’m gonna-” “Should we let her V” she asked her companion. “Cum” you did on command releasing your slick over Nats hand and wrists.

Natasha pulled her hand from your heat making you whine at the lost. “I think she can do another” the goo formed a dick around Nats hips which you only realised once its big head was already pressed against your tight hole. “I can’t” you lied as she pushed in “Your body wants it I know it Spidey” she chuckled pushing in until she bottomed you out. She let you adjust before picking up her pace. She fucked into you hard and fast. “I’m gonna fuck you pregnant you little slut” she bit into your neck the tendrils working magic on your already overstimulated clit. “Fuck I’m gonna cum” she picked up her pace one last time before releasing her with cum inside of you.

The tendrils pulled back from your cum mixing into each other before tripping down your thighs. She pulled her pants back up leaving you panting against the wall. As a last act of affection she helped you back in your suit before leaving.

“Until next time spider girl”

I do not own these characters all rights go to Marvel

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #kinktober 2023

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kaiser1ns · 1 month

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𝗦𝗖𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟 𝗢𝗡𝗘 一 𝗢𝗡𝗘'𝗦 𝗗𝗨𝗧𝗬

𝗶𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝘀𝗮𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

SERIES MASTERLIST ｡⁠.ﾟ⁠+⁠ NEXT SCROLL

╹synopsis :: a skilled samurai had the task to assassinate one of the four landlord's daughter but things went in another direction when his parents decided to marry him off to her.

╹contents :: 2,4k words, historical!au, arranged mirage!au ; mentions of blood, murder, assassination ; symbolism with the names. read a/n at the end for more information.

╹notes :: first chapter of the itoshi sae fanfic, hope you like it ! this fanfic will have slow updates !

╹taglist :: @wirednintkoko @i-love-frensh-fries @steleir @beidousbubz @aoiropetal @raphsimp @rroxii @multi-101 @c4ttheart

Holding his two metal swords, slashing the men's throats as their bodies dropped dead onto the brown tatami mats as now they began to acquire a red color. It's his duty as one of the highest ranked samurai to keep the Shogunate territory all safe and sound, leaving no trace of his or anyone else's deeds. Another job done with even more cleaning afterwards. He sighed heavily, as he tore a cloth from the dead man's robe to wipe the blood from his katana.

"You've got some nice finishing moves, Itoshi-dono." said an unknown voice behind the man who put away his weapons and removed the samurai mask and helmet that covered his face. Scarlet hair and blue-green eyes with underlashes, flashed in the dark room, his gaze was empty as if he had no soul — and by the way he just killed these people, he was heartless too.

"I am not doing this only for the honorary, work is work and it has to be done." the redhead said, stepping outside the room and closing it with the sliding door, turning around to look at the man, "Have someone clean this mess, I have to report to the Shogun." his tone carried this not as a message but an order as he walked past them, letting them do the dirty work.

Going in the direction of the river, in its ridge to cleanse himself from yet again another sin, but no matter how many times he washes his hands, clothes or swords — the stains of the endless suffering, the voices of the innocent and not, cannot be erased. They will always be a part of him, as long as he is alive.

Itoshi Sae was the name of the samurai, a young man who served the Shogunate's secret assassination group but he was also part of the main army holding a very high ranking and status because he was the firstborn from the nobel Itoshi Family.

The Itoshi clan is the most powerful and most important of all four great clans that dominated Japanese politics — the other three are the Tsurukawa, the Mikage, and the Hiori families, who also had their representative heirs.

The moonlight danced on the surface of the water, casting an ethereal glow reflecting in his eyes. Quite the contrast with the vivid light full of life, and his dull gaze that lacked brightness and vitality. He reached the riverbank, stopping in one place to listen to the gentle lapping of the water against the shore, a soothing sound for his troubled mind.

With deep breath he began to remove his blood-stained armor, letting it fall to the ground causing a loud noise from the weight. Leaving him only with his usual attire that consisted of a black kimono, white hakama and dark blue haori jacket with white wisteria flower on the back - the Itoshi clan symbol of devotion, longevity and resilience.

Sae quickly washed whatever he could, as he put it on again and set off again for the Shogunate's residence in a nearby town. And once he got there he received a warm welcome from the maids but he paid them no mind, he didn't care if there was someone to welcome him or not, the boy just wanted the earned money from his majesty — Ego Jinpachi, an ambitious and overly confident ruler but beneath that facade, is something even more sinister as he is extremely egotistical, cruel, and self-serving man who does not tolerate traitors and liars, and that's why people like Itoshi Sae are recruited into his secret organization.

"You are here earlier than expected," the Shogunate said taking a bite of his food, while the samurai got on the floor and bowed "I'm done with what you needed me for, they are dead and soon there will be no evidence for their lives." he replied with a tone of obedience, maintaining a composed demeanor, his thoughts hidden behind his mask.

"There's nothing you can't do, always with excellent and quick performance." the black haired answered "Now, a letter from your family came, saying it was urgent for you to check. But before that, come with me, I have another task specifically for you." Both men stood up and walked away from the big dining hall, going to the Shogunate personal library, that was kept away from anny prying eyes. It was a dark place, as dark as the Shogunate secret with only a few candles to lit up and to provide visibility.

"I need you to kill the daughter of the Tsurukawa clan. You know, the young princess who talks bad about me and what I do behind doors. I have eyes and ears everywhere. My men, including me, think she is crazy because no woman has the right to talk like this and most importantly about the one who feeds them.” The samurai just listened, observing the Shogun’s body language and tone of speaking and how the word kill came out so easily from his mouth. Even though he harbored no personal attachment to his targets, the idea of killing another noble for the sake of political power wasn't unheard of but he knew better than anyone not to question the orders of his superior.

But why exactly Y/N of the Tsurukawa Family? She wasn't the only one who talked about his wrong doings but she was alive, unlike others. Sae won't deny that he had know her for most of his live as they both were the firstborns and same age — with the only difference being that the lady was an only child and the redhead had a little brother — but he definitely heard her name mentioned when there was talk of the Shogun and some kind of revolution against him. That woman spoke nonsense left and right — or at least ran nonsense for all he cared, only those like Itoshi Sae knew what was going on behind the closed doors of the empire. That's a concern for another day.

"As you wish, my lord," Sae responded with a shallow bow, his voice trailed with no emotion. "Consider it done."

The Shogunate nodded, a murderous look in his eyes that seems to be second nature to him. "Oh, and more thing Itoshi, you will have one whole year to do this, starting from next week with the first cherry blossomed tree." he said, tone monotone like it was that normal to talk about assassination "This will be your longest mission and if you don't complete it by next spring you know what awaits you. So don't make me do the unthinkable. Now you are dismissed."

With a nod, the young man took his leave, thinking about what the Shogun just ordered him to do — to kill Tsurukawa Y/N until the next spring — and despite her outspokenness and rebellious nature, very unusual behavior for a woman at that, she had always been there, next to him on official dinners, paintings or playing together with wooden swords as kids. And now she had to be gone.

As he departed from Ego's dinner time with other important politicians, his thoughts drifted back to the letter from his family, he hasn't been home for months, and apparently now is the time to do so. Arriving at his quarters in the rooms of the residence, Sae retrieved the manuscript letter, the elegant calligraphy of his family's crest a stark contrast to the bloodstains that still lingered on his hands. Without further ado, he untied the thread and the scroll unfolded.

—

Itoshi Sae, from the Itoshi Family. Please come home as soon as possible, by the time you read this letter no more than three days will have passed, and it will be one more day till you return. The matter requires your presence as the future head of the family, so please get home immediately.

—

Could Rin be causing trouble again? No, it shouldn't be that. Someone must have gotten sick or died, if they seek him physically. Maybe another idiot wants to fight him? The last time he fought someone from another lower clan or a drunkard, things didn't end very well. What could possibly be happening, he didn't care about being the next head, but had to pretend for the sake of his parents' honor. With a heavy and hopeless sigh, he tucked the letter into his cloak. He will think about it tomorrow morning when he leaves.

The morning is wiser than the night as old people tend to say, something new and exciting will await anybody but sometimes it's okay to look in the past that the night helds. Memories flooded his thoughts as he traversed familiar paths, the small pond with fish or the wooden puppets that he practiced on, reminiscing about the carefree days of his childhood before his life became entangled with the the dark side of the political power and hierarchy be it assassination, stealing important information and artifacts, weapons, you name it - he's done it.

Upon reaching the grand gates of his family's house, the samurai was greeted by the sincere smiles of his servants. "Welcome home, Itoshi Sae-sama." The people in front of whom he grew up, and they watched as he became a handsome and strong man, started to welcome and praise him. Their hushed whispers and furtive glances only deepened his sense of curiosity — something big is going to happen, and just hoped it wasn't something that important to involve him.

As he stepped into the ancestral home, entering the main hall, the samurai's eyes met those of his parents, they were happy to finally see their son — the reason of their pride and joy. There was silence as he entered, kneeling on the floor with the tops of the feet flat against the ground, sitting back on his heels, and bowing deeply from the waist with the hands placed palms down on the thighs or folded in front, looking around carefully — his father and mother were there, as well as his younger brother Rin, who was sitting next to their father. Sae's gaze fell upon a girl, an unfamiliar persona. New maid, perhaps? He remembered how his mother was very tired of doing garden work so maybe they hired someone.

Her face hid behind the golden fan she was holding and the only uncovered part was her e/c eyes as she also looked at him. Adorned in a beautiful red kimono, probably made of the most luxurious and finest silk with white crane and floral patterns with gold threads, the greenish obi was intricately tied on her waist. The flowing, wide sleeves accentuated her gracefulness, defining her silhouette with elegance, the Shimada styled hair into a large, elaborate bun on top of the head, decorated with golden comb, as she stood beside his mother.

His gaze did not miss every single detail even for a second, but this is very strange because that's not a worker's outfit. Could this be Rin's fiancé? He is two years younger than Sae and had time till marriage and the letter hadn't mentioned the true reason for his urgent return.

Oh ...

The realisation hit him like a swift cut from his most sharpest katana — marriage. The girl infront of him, is the bride. Oh sweet, Bishamonten, giving another battle to his fortune warrior. Sae's father, observing his son's reaction, cleared his throat to gain his attention. "Sae, we have summoned you here today to discuss an important matter concerning your future and the prosperity of our family." His words echoing with calming tone, "As you know, our family's honor is of utmost importance to us. It is with great consideration that we have arranged a mirage for you." He paused, allowing the weights of his words to sink in before continuing, "And to continue our legacy and alliances with the Tsurukawa Family."

He tried to be calm, to keep his composure, but his facial expression and his widened eyes gave it away. The Tsurukawa Family, the same family Ego ordered him to assassinate their heir. There's no way that's possible, the Gods above can't play such a joke on him right now.

"We understand that this may come as a surprise to you, but rest assured, it is a decision made with the utmost care and consideration for your well-being." He gestured towards the other feminine figure beside his wife, indicating the girl to put down her fan, revealing her full face. That was Tsurukawa Y/N — the young lady from the second clan in power, the same girl that will be killed by his own hands, the woman who will become his wife. It wasn't a dream, it was a nightmare.

"As your father, it is my duty to ensure that you are provided for and that our family thrives for generations to come. This marriage is a part of that responsibility," he explained, his tone gentle yet firm concluded with a reassuring nod, his eyes going to his elder son and soon daughter-in-law.

"When is the wedding?" the young samurai finally spoke up, his mind was messy, it was full of countless thoughts and plans of how this is going to work. He wanted his targets close, but not that close.

"Tomorrow," his father replied, his voice carrying a hint of sympathy for the shock his son was experiencing. "We knew that you won't come home if we said what is it for, so take it as a gift from Amaterasu."

Sae felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Tomorrow? It seemed impossible to prepare himself mentally for such a significant event in such a short time. Yet, as a samurai, he was trained to adapt to any situation. "I understand, Father," he managed to say, though his voice wavered slightly.

His father got up and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Sae nodded his head slowly. The family left the room, leaving him alone with his soon-to-be wife, he couldn't help but feel at unease — he never had any problems about his missions. This marriage wasn't just about securing alliances or ensuring the family's prosperity — it was God's plan, a forsaken and unfortunate planning with the most unexpected twist.

Turning to face Y/N as she waved her fan grinning so innocently at him, her eyes sparkled with adoration, a slight blush painted on her face like a freshly ripe peach from his mother's garden. Sae however, maintained his stoic demeanor, his eyes cold and distant, forcing a polite smile, though there was nothing to be smiling about.

"Don't get the wrong idea, Y/N. This marriage is just a formality, a transaction on paper. There's no need for us to pretend otherwise." he said, his voice letting her know that he isn't interested in this fiasco, or in her, for now. "So don't expect much." As he spoke, the weight of his words hung in the air, casting a shadow over any hope she might have held onto.

Y/N's heart sank when she saw how cold he had become, but she refused to show any sign of weakness. With a flick of her fan, she masked her disappointment behind a facade of indifference, determined to prove him wrong, even if it meant breaking through his icy exterior one layer at a time. She would not give up on the hope that someday, just maybe, he would see her not as a mere transaction or an old friend, but as something more.

江戸散歩 [EDO SANPO]

• The meaning behind the Tsurukawa [鶴川] surname is 鶴 - crane and 川 - river. In Japan, the crane, or tsuru, is a national treasure and is considered the bird of happiness. It is depicted in art, literature, and mythology as a symbol of honor, good fortune, loyalty, and longevity. So to be free as a bird, and as calm but rebellious as the water.

• In Edo period Japan, the color red on clothes signified youth and glamour as well mad, passionate love that is all consuming but fleeting so is chosen. And the green which represents new beginnings and good fortune. So they are chosen for Y/N's kimono.

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

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please elaborare on alien yan and them thembo cow reader

(Just a not so little dairy farmer and the extraterrestrial who's got the hots for them and not totally isn't trying to lure them onto their ship)

Fresh mountain air, wide open fields for you and your herd. It wasn't always easy, but this was certainly the life for you.

Early on, you did everything thing to conform to human society. Taken in by a family in a place where people like you were the norm life was pretty easy - say for strangers tugging your horns when you were too small to defend yourself and mooing at you on the street, but that problem took care of itself once you towered over your bullies later on with the strength to match.

The only challenge you faced afterwards was a thirst for a life that never was. Living in a bustling city, you never experienced the outdoor life yourself, but you grew up on the romanticized portrayals - and fell more in love with the real thing when you finally got a taste visiting a close friend's family farm. It was then and there you decided to pack up and move out to the country once you had the funds. As luck would have it, that friend called you up with an offer you couldn't refuse when they heard about your future plans. Overnight, you were the new owner of a farm and on your way to living the life of your dreams. Wished they'd told you more about the surveillance cameras you found hidden around during a deeper inspection of the place, but you'd manage.

You adored the change of scenery. There was a town a couple miles out so you weren't completely alone, but you had your animals to keep you company. Majority of your business comes from that town, but you've been taking a little break recently to take care of your herd and the bizarre events happening around your barn. You normally let your cows go free range, but two of them have gone missing without a trace. You've found strange symbols carved into the wood of your home and fields, the stocks from the harvest bundled neatly at your doorstep. Day by day, you started to regret not asking more about those odd cameras - especially since your friend hasn't answered any of your calls recently, but now's not the time to focus on that.

You've got a visitor.

Tires crunching atop the gravel road, an old beat up truck pulls up to the side of your house. No deliveries were scheduled for today, so you guessed they might've needed some assistance or looking to by something for the road. As the driver steps out of the vehicle, you're fairly surprised. They were big as you if not bigger; a slight hunch in their back obscured their full height. You've never met a human around your size and you couldn't see any features so far that would mark them as a hybrid. It was hard to see most of them really. A baseball cap was pulled over their eyes and the lower portion of their face was covered by a cloth mask. The only reason you knew was because they were staring right at you, all the way over at the open barn. The bovine at your side nudges your shoulder as you look back.

"I'll be back back soon. Okay?" You stroke her head and lead her back to the rise of the ground, picking up the filled bottles of milk and your bucket on your way out. The driver is inspecting your front door by the time you make it down the small hill to your humble home, picking at the flaking wood with their black nails. One foot on the porch and they're back focused on you. You still can't see their eyes or face, but their cheeks crinkle like they're smiling.

"Afternoon."

Their voice is...off. It's scratchy and hoarse like they haven't had a drink of water in days, but it reminds more you of static. Must be rough for truckers this time of year. "Afternoon! What can I do for you?"

The driver looks their feet, brows scrunched as they mutter to themselves. "H...ha.. Happen to have something to drink on you? I'm quite parched from my... travels."

"Course, kind of our main business here." You joke, reaching ingo your bottle for a glass. "On the house. Not to sound rude or anything, but you sound like you need it."

You hand the fresh bottle of milk to the stranger who graciously it off your hands - popping the top and taking a curious sip of the sweet cream. Their jaw shifts as they swish it around on their tongue, stiff shoulders relaxing some.

You fix the bill of your hat, horns making the task the toughest of your load. "Hope it's to your liking. Comes fresh from barn!"

The stranger studies your face and horns; eyes slowly falling to your chest and the cow print pattern of your tee. In a flash they're throwing their head back and down the entire bottle, lapping at its rim and snaking their slender tongue down its hole. It hits the bottom of the glass, pulsing against its floor. Maybe they were a hybrid -longest tongue you've ever seen. They stop only when their hat starts to slide back to fix it. You've never seen anyone so excited for your milk before - you hope the girls will be happy to hear this when you feed the herd later on.

"So, what are you doing in this parts? Haven't seen a delivery truck come by that wasn't one of mine in months."

A hairline crack runs the wall of the bottle. "I.... "ve just been on the road with no destination in mind. Searching for my place in the universe, but the country air is nice too. Think my trucks finally giving up on me, and I saw a sign for your farm down the road. Do you have a room I can stay in till I get it working? Food won't be an issue for me.. I can repay you with my services for now and send some money late on. Please..."

The poor thing. You rest your hand on their shoulder. "Slow down, it's alright. You don't have to pay me back or anything. Just focus on getting back on your feet, okay. The guest soon is a little junky right now since I haven't unpacked all my things, but you can wait in the living room while I'm moving things around. Welcome aboard."

Patting their arm, you swing the screen door open and step inside, inviting the in. Walking closer, their attention is taken by the wind chimes handing above your door, moreso the stains they reveal. The stranger takes off their coat and throws it on the chair outside your home. Your tail swings behind you with each step you take - so close yet so far. No - patience. They already had one slip up earlier with their lines. They'd rehearsed so many times, but not once did they conquer the hypothetical where you asked about them. It was the most logical option, so of course they skipped it. Their sweet cow would do nothing but offer a hand to the unfortunate. That's why they loved you so.

In their searches they found nothing to save this planet from its fate, but in the end one member of it's superior class would live on - in the stars.

#yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere #yandere blurb #yandere insert #monster reader #yandere drabble #yandere alien #hybrid reader

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prince-kallisto · 6 months

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Crowley Levan is Meleanor’s “eyes, limbs, and husband”…wouldn’t it be cool if the one who married into the Draconia family had a crown/headpiece that resembled horns, worn for ceremonies, public appearances and the like?!

We haven’t seen Levan yet but I know in my heart he’s just a silly little guy as long as you ignore The Killings 💞

I talk more about concept art and costume details below the cut!

Levan’s headpiece is designed to have more of a live-action Maleficent feel, where she wrapped her horns in…fabric? Snakeskin? Whatever it was, it looked really shiny, oily, and really cool, so I tried to depict that texture to show how his horns are fake.

And sort of elaborating on the Draconia crown idea, perhaps each crown from every ruler who married into the family has its own unique shape? Levan’s halo-like shape is unique to him, so ones before him perhaps had more “traditional” dragon-like horns, and others had twisting ones like a sheep, etc etc. Since I’m OBSESSED with TWSTs religious symbolism- the Dawn Knight popped off with that winged helmet- I also wanted a halo shape to make Levan look slightly angelic.

The beads on his horns were slightly inspired by the mianguan, a formal headdress worn in ancient China. He also wears nail guards covered in shiny jewels… Let him be extra ✨

Levan having wings over his eyes like the Dawn Knight would be a fun parallel, and as a reference to him being Meleanor’s “eyes, limbs, and husband.” Like I mentioned in the comic, he covers his eyes and disguises his body under bulky clothing to be publicly dramatic af 😭 he takes his title way too seriously haha. The idea is that when he isn’t around Meleanor, he sheds his mask so he can report what he sees to Meleanor. But when he is with her, he “blinds” himself as a demonstration of trust. I’m sure he can actually detect his surroundings very well despite the mask- he just likes to play around and act dumb to make Lilia and Meleanor laugh haha. I haven’t thought much about the clothes under his cape, but I imagine it’s very like Malleus’ masquerade outfit. Something very streamlined and agile in case he has to enter a sudden battle or fly into the air.

And with my concept art, he was meant to have the shoulder feathers like Crowley and Malleus! They were like pauldrons covered in feathers. But when I was working on the final piece, I spontaneously changed it to fit the sketch for something more flowing and bulky haha. In my head, this bigger cape has a more “General” vibe to it? Something that draws your attention when Levan walks into a war room! Speaking of, I really love the fantasy-vibe of the costumes in Book 7- I feel like I can really go all out with Levan’s costume if the Dawn Knight is allowed to have a helmet like that!

This was super last minute in the painting process, but I’d like the inside of his cape to have constellations and stars all over it! I tried to draw the Corvus, Crater, and Hydra on the visible parts of his cape.

I prefer painting with ink far better than acrylic or even watercolor…so doing this in mostly black and white inspired me to give Levan porcelain-like skin, shading his skin almost like he was a doll and not a person. I think about how Diablo in Sleeping Beauty was turned into stone, so it’s meant to be a bit like marble too

I imagine Levan to have long, wispy hair that resembles briars and a bit like live action Aurora from Maleficent. Its very striking how he’s repeatedly described as “beautiful,” and although short hair is very beautiful in its own right, something about his mysteriousness and beauty gives me Aurora vibes specifically. Speaking of, Book 7 seems to be more obvious with combining elements from the original Sleeping Beauty and the live action Maleficent. Perhaps Silver could be the OG Aurora, but I can still give Levan live-action Aurora’s pretty hair haha.

When he wears his headdress and cape, he has his hair pinned up in the back. I’d like to draw my interpretation of Levan more in the future so you can see how his hair would look when it’s all down or in a ponytail. Perhaps Raven-Fae do more elaborate hairstyles that incorporates jewels/shiny things into their hair? Also, this inspiration is VERY specific haha, but if you ever read or watched Cardcaptor Sakura, Nadeshiko’s hair is very close to how I imagine his hair to be- very full and flowing! (Cardcaptor Sakura’s aesthetic snatched me up many years ago and has never let go since haha)

I don’t know, I just think it’s really cool yet ironic that Meleanor and Lilia talk about Levan as someone whose a crybaby, kind, beautiful, airheaded, but then Lilia casually drops that Levan is one of the top generals, an extremely skilled diplomat, and battled the DAWN KNIGHT and survived, when even Lilia hasn’t at that point. So I thought it would be fun if he had angelic themes in his outfit, while still making it clear that he’s dangerous.

Whoops this got pretty long! ∑(ﾟДﾟ) Haha, I think I like sharing my designs- not for the art it self but just to ramble about my entire thought process/inspiration/details! Although I try to get better at depicted all these ideas through the art itself, I can’t help but want to talk about it haha

#cant wait to be horribly wrong with his design #no seriously. I CANT WAIT SHOW ME LEVAN ALREADY. SHOW ME THE BOYYYYY ARGHHHHHH #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fanart #Twst levan #twst revan #twst papa draconia #twst meleanor draconia #Twst General Lilia #KallistoPost #my art

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aspoonofsugar · 9 months

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Blake Belladonna's Design

This is a quick appreciation of our Cat Girl's design. Its objective is to offer a short analysis by incorporating elements of other metas. Ideally, the end result will be something similar to Yang's post. Finally, this is the final piece of my mid-summer Blake meta spree :) So, enjoy!

JUST ANOTHER CAT GIRL?

Blake's design plays with the idea of "cat girl". Cat girls are common in anime and mangas, but are often overly sexualized. In particular, cat ears are usually presented as an overly cute trait and sometimes a fetish.

RWBY takes this idea and subverts it in 2 ways.

Blake's ears are initially hidden, so that her affinity with cats gets highlighted through other aesthetical elements:

Gambol Shroud's ribbon resembles a cat's tail and it being a whip may reference the infamous cat o' nine tails

She decorates her eyes with cat eye makeup

She is able to make copies of herself, which get jokingly referred to as copycats

In Mistral she wears leg boots, which bring to mind Puss in Boots

In Atlas she wears a catsuit

Blake's cat trait becomes a core part of her identity, which is explored on a double level:

It represents her faunus heritage, which makes her different from humans and discriminated

It is a symbol of Blake's troubled past and of her involvement with the White Fang

So, Blake covers her cat ears to run from both society and herself. Just like a scaredy cat ;)

As you see, with some limitations and worldbuilding, Blake manages to be a cat girl with much depth to her. Still, there is more to her cat design.

FROM CALICO TO TUXEDO

Let's juxtapose Blake's initial concept art with her final design:

What changes is the cat used as the main inspiration.

In the initial concept art it is the calico cat (tricolor cat):

In the final character design it is the tuxedo cat (bicolor cat):

Why the change? Let's explain it by highlighting one similarity (1) and one difference (2) between the two kitties.

1- Both cats are called after a type of cloth:

Calico is a fabric, which originates in India (the set of the Jungle Book - Blake's secondary allusion) and is famous for its colorful printed patterns. I wouldn't be surprised if Blake's clothes in the concept art were meant to be calico made.

Tuxedo is a formal wear, which consists of a black suit over a white shirt and a bow tie. Well, Blake's final design is a revisitation of the traditional tuxedo with a shorter jacket and a bow worn in the hair, instead than as a tie.

The idea of "cloth" is heavily used in Blake's design, which may be one of the reasons why the tuxedo is eventually chosen. This kitty, thus, offers a pretty poignant metaphor.

It all starts with Gambol Shroud, where shroud means a piece of cloth that conceals or protects:

Here come two thoughts:

Blake's bow is her shroud which is why it resembles her weapon’s ribbon (same color and similar material). The bow is the ears, while the ribbon is the tail. Together they complement Blake’s cat design.

Some tuxedo cats are called tuxedo masks because it is as if a black mask covers their whole faces. It is easy to see how this concept fits Blake, who conceals herself thanks to a little piece of fabric.

Basically, Blakes's bow is her tuxedo tie, which is worn as a mask.

2- The two cats differ when it comes to their color:

The calico is a tricolor cat, which is mostly known as having a white coat with some orange and black patches

The tuxedo is a bicolor cat, which has white and black fur

These two color patterns are another reason why Blake has been characterized as a tuxedo instead than a calico. As a matter of fact the black and white dychotomy fits our beautiful faunus girl more.

WHITE AND BLACK = BEAUTY AND BEAST

In old English, Blake's name means both black and white. As a result, she is linked to both colors, which tie with her light and shadow motif:

Blake is associated to the twilight because it is where light and shadow meet. What's more, her musical theme is built on this duality. She starts in the shadows and climbs her way up towards the light.

Well, Light and Shadow are linked to two Jungian Archetypes:

The Light is the persona, so what is shown to others

The Shadow is what is repressed, so the hidden parts

And these two archetypes are explored in The Beauty and The Beast:

The Beauty is the light - she is beautiful, lovable and accepted

The Beast is the shadow - he is ferocious, scary and misunderstood

So, Blake's own allusion can be read as the integration of beauty and beast, light and shadow, so that a new unit (a new individual) is born. This is also Blake's arc in a nutshell. She starts as a shadow because she hides herself, but with time she steps into the light and shows the world who she is.

In other words, Blake's Beauty and Beast allusion is referenced in her appearence not only in her nature as a faunus, but in her color scheme too. She is both beauty and beast, light and shadow, white and black.

This is also why these two colors are incorporated in respectively Sun and Ilia.

Sun is white, as he leads Blake towards the light:

Ilia is black, as she forces Blake to face her own shadows:

Through them Blake integrates her shadows and stops hiding:

This is why her design changes in Mistral in two notables ways:

She gives up her bow once and for all

She wears a white jacket over a black top

These two details mirror Blake's inner journey. She learns to show herself more, so her ears get to be out in the open and the light (white) surfaces. In Beacon, instead, the ears are concealed and Blake is wrapped in shadows (black).

Ironically, this means Blake's design loses the core traits of her tuxedo cat inspiration. As a matter of fact she has no bow tie anymore and the color pattern is inverted, which doesn't work. Why this choice? It is because Blake is going from Beast (black + cat) to Beauty (white + individual). Symbolically, this happens as she shows her faunus trait more openly:

She grows more beautiful (human) as she openly embraces her beast side (cat).

GOLD, BLUE AND PURPLE = HOT, COLD AND JUST RIGHT

The shift from calico to tuxedo brings some consequences to Blake and Yang's complementary designs.

Let's compare the bees exploratory ideas:

As people have noticed, Blake and Yang are aesthetically and symbolically linked since early on.

Here, we have:

Blake with one gold eye and one blue eye

Yang with a blue bandana

This chromatic choice ties into Yang's allusion and design. As a matter of fact our Goldilocks uses colors to represent the too hot, too cold and just right. Specifically:

red/orange is the too hot

blue/green is the too cold

purple (blue + red) is the just right

So, in the picture above Yang's looks play with the dychotomy between too hot and too cold. This same duality is mirrored in Blake:

She is both too hot (gold eye) and too cold (blue eye)

She wears much gold in general (Yang's main color)

The idea is clear. Blake is Yang's hot and cold. In particular, she brings some needed blue in Yang's life. She helps Goldilocks cool down and become more balanced. Similarly, Blake proudly wears Yang's golden tones, as she has to grow more like her Golden Beauty.

So, how have these ideas evolved in Blake’s final design?

Blake has gained a strong association with purple, which makes her Yang's just right

Blake's color scheme has ditched gold in favor of silver, which makes her and Yang complementary

Blake's link to purple is interesting because this color calls back to her family and to the surname Belladonna (beautiful woman in Italian). In other words, it is connected to both Ghira's legacy and her Beauty side. So, it is not a surprise that Blake grows more purple in each arc:

She is slowly blooming into Yang's just right by reconciling with her legacy and by becoming a person worthy of our golden girl.

This transformation is highlighted also by Blake integrating some gold into her:

In both her Vale and Atlas's designs Blake is linked to silver, so that she can complete Yang's gold. Still, in Mistral she has some gold details because this is the arc where she integrates her missing parts. This integration ends with Adam's death and Blake's rebirth:

So, Blake's design tells a story of inner growth, which leads her to stand beside Yang as an equal:

Blake: She's not protecting me, Adam. And I'm not protecting her. We're protecting each other.

This theme is important for Blake's Cat Girl archetype. Cat Girls, thus, are often reduced to love interests, but Blake's arc is a deconstruction of this idea. What would happen if the male partner of a Cat Girl is abusive? Blake explores this concept and tells a story of liberation and development, which ends with a reconstruction of the trope. Our Cat Girl ends up in a happy relationship, but not as a shallow prize. Rather as a winner.

BEASTS, LIONS AND WOLVES

In conclusion, Blake's design alludes to the Beauty and Beast on three levels:

Society= Blake is both human (beauty) and animal (beast)

Couple = Blake and Yang are drawn as complementary

Individual = Blake is both white (light) and black (shadow)

Still, this is not the only fairy tale our Cat Girl ties into thanks to her animal features. Here come three examples.

Blake is Bagheera's daughter and a small panther (a cat) in the Jungle Book

Blake is a Scaredy Cat to Lioneheart's Cowardly Lion. Except that of course the cat is braver than the lion

Blake is Ruby's black beast in team RWBY's LRRH team allusion

This last reference is foreshadowed since Red Like Roses:

Black the beast descends from shadows.

After all, the Beowolves appear when Blake's line comes up.

Moreover, Blake's secondary allusions all come together to strongly link our Black Shadow to wolves. In the Jungle Book, Mowgli is raised by wolves, just like Blake grows up in the White Fang. The name of the group itself calls back to wolves, as it references the title of Jack London's book about a half-dog half-wolf, who fights to be accepted by humans.

Finally, it turns out Blake is not the only Cat, who turns out to be a Wolf:

In short, Blake's design lets her freely move between allusions and references. Not only that, but it is crafted to add depth and thematic resonance to her character and her arc. Not bad for just another Cat Girl, uh?

#rwby #blake belladonna #rwby meta #my meta #yang xiaolong #bumbleby #character design #once upon an allusion

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mangoisms · 10 months

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circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter two: it’s getting late | read chapter one

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.5k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

━ a/n: would be lying if i said this was for tim's birthday tmrw. it was rlly just because the reception to chapter 1 was so lovely and i also did this with my other tim fic—posting chapter 2 early, i mean. but we'll just have to work with this. happy early birthday tim you are annoying and i want to study you under a microscope <3

You expect Red Robin’s appearance to be a one-off thing.

It is not.

Instead, the next day, you get Black Bat.

It jolts you from the phone call you’re having.

“—understand the temptation to tell them to screw off but I really don’t want to get… shot…”

You trail off, watching, wide-eyed as your newest vigilante customer steps into Circle K.

Black Bat cuts an imposing figure, her suit made up mostly of inky black material, with a few accents of gold, the Bat symbol on her chest standing out the most. Her black cape flutters behind her, moving like a shadow. She looks the most like Batman, you think, with the cowl and the pointed ears. Except the eyes of the mask are black and the bottom of her face is completely covered—stitched closed. Considerably more creepy, you think, goosebumps breaking out over your skin. Though that could be the fan you have on, fluttering your hair as it makes a slow rotation.

“Hey, did you die or something?”

“No,” you mutter, watching, your heart starting to pick up as Black Bat comes up to the counter.

You aren’t sure what you expect, but it’s not—

“Do you have Red Bull?” Her voice is low and melodic. Not befitting of her… general aura.

Wordlessly, you point to the refrigerators at the back.

“Thanks,” she says, then she turns and walks away. You can only see the top of her head and the pointed ears of her cowl. A second later, you hear the suction-y sound of the refrigerator door being opened.

A voice calls your name from the other end of the line.

Your best friend, Stephanie Brown, who gave you a call to see how your summer break has been treating you.

“Sorry,” you say, clearing your throat. “Just got distracted by something outside.”

“Something outside? That’s not reassuring. At all.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Like I was saying, I’m not gonna tell them that. It’s tempting but like I said, I don’t want to get arrested or some shit.”

“The charges wouldn’t even hold. It’s a free country. I can tell a cop to fuck off if I want to. That’s my god-given right.”

“I appreciate the spirit, but I don’t think the GCPD would agree with you.”

“Well, the GCPD can kiss my ass.”

“You and me both, Stephie. You and me both. So, how’s, uh, Metropolis?”

“Metropolis is Metropolis. Brainiac nearly took control of the city yesterday but what’s new? Mom’s having a good time, though. Even if things are way overpriced over here. I mean, seriously. Eight bucks for a cup of coffee at this place we went to today. They’re crazy.”

Steph babbles in your ear for a few more minutes. Long enough for Black Bat to reemerge from the aisle, two cans of Red Bull and a bag of Takis and a pack of sour gummy worms in hand. You wonder who the second person is. Red Robin, maybe?

He’d been odd about the hot chocolates. Odd in general. But that’s what you get with these vigilante types.

No matter. You quickly focus on your current situation, giving Black Bat a small, embarrassed smile and pointing at the phone crammed between your shoulder and ear, mouthing Sorry.

You shouldn’t be doing this on the job and you should’ve told Steph you had to go but quite frankly, you need the assurance of another person with you. Even if said person can’t do anything and is across the harbor in Metropolis on a mini-vacation with her mom.

Black Bat shouldn’t give you trouble about it. You hope. She just scares you a little more than Red Robin. Which is silly because he’s a guy and probably more potentially dangerous but. You know. Her suit is just… too similar to Batman’s, and he’s the one who scares you the most.

Still, Black Bat just shrugs and waves a hand. “It’s fine.”

You nod your thanks, then scan everything and bag it. She pulls out a twenty dollar bill from her utility belt and you give her the change, which she promptly puts in the tip jar. A kind gesture, really, considering the twenty is a bit of an overshoot for her total, leaving you with a nice tip.

You guess that if anything else, at least it’s nice that these vigilantes tip.

After dropping the receipt into the bag, she takes it and waves at you.

Mystified, you wave back.

Then she steps out, cape fluttering behind her.

“Anyway,” Steph says on the other end as you focus on her voice again. “It’s pretty fun but I miss home. Can’t wait to be back in the city. We’re hanging out as soon as I do, by the way. How are things with you?”

Oh, you can’t keep it in. You have to tell her.

“I saw the Flash two days ago.”

But she misunderstands.

“Oh, yeah,” she says. “I saw that in the news. ‘Cause of Trickster, right? Bet Batman wasn’t happy about that.”

“No,” you say. “I’m saying I saw him. Here. At Circle K. He dropped in to grab a bite to eat. I know you and Tim absolutely refuse to believe me when I say he visited me and that we’re friends—which, by the way, he totally reaffirmed when I saw him—but he was here.”

“We’re jealous, that’s all,” she says. “Just don’t want you running off with the Flash thinking he’s cooler than we are. Which, to be clear, he isn’t. Not me, anyway. Tim is up for debate.”

“Well, you’re about to be a little more jealous.”

“And why is that?”

“Because since he visited, weird shit has started happening.”

“Weird shit is always happening in Gotham. What is so special about this weird shit in particular?”

“Oh, he said something stupid to Red Robin—Red Robin came in a little while after he did, I guess they were working together to track down Trickster—anyway, he was talking about how I’m… scared of the Bats—”

“Are you scared of the Bats?”

You throw up a hand, though she can’t see it. “I have a healthy amount of fear and respect for them—and on that note, please don’t tell anyone else I’m telling you this.”

“Of course.”

“Right, well, Flash was just ragging him, you know? About how he has a better relationship with me, someone who doesn’t even live in Keystone or Central, than the Bats do.”

“So?”

“So,” you blow out a big breath, “Red Robin showed up yesterday to get some hot chocolate—”

“Hot chocolate?” Steph asks, disbelieving.

“Yeah. He said it was a better alternative to coffee. Guess he’s not into energy drinks. Weirdo. The whole thing about it—weird. Like… I don’t know. He was just acting weird when he was asking if we had any.”

“… That is weird,” she says, an odd note to her voice. She clears her throat. “And then?”

“I knew why he was doing it so I told him he didn’t have to come around ‘cause he and the others obviously need to uphold a specific perception, right? Then he was all, Well, what does a civilian like you know about it? Can you believe they unironically call us that?”

Steph laughs. She laughs hard.

You wait it out, not entirely sure what or why she is laughing so hard but it’s not the first time she’s ever done that, so you can just let it go.

“Okay,” she giggles. “Sorry. Keep going. What else happened?”

“He left. But then, y’wanna guess who just showed up right now?”

“Who? Batman?”

“God, no. It was Black Bat. She was nice enough. Gave me a big tip. Creepy suit, though.”

“What’d she’d get?”

“Two Red Bulls, a bag of Takis and a pack of sour gummy worms. Wonder who that second Red Bull is for. And the snacks. Red Robin realizing hot chocolate in June is weird? Hard to imagine him eating Takis, though. He’s probably like Tim, saying they’re ‘too hot’.”

Steph laughs again for a while.

“Oh, god, you’re killing me,” she gasps out when she calms.

You shake your head, rubbing your finger over a scratch mark in the counter. “I don’t know what is so funny but sure.”

“So, then, what? You think you’re just gonna some more vigilantes? ‘Cause it’s only been two so far.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you grumble. “But it’s two. When previously, this has never happened.”

“True! Well… any preferences? For who comes next?”

“Anyone but Batman, thanks.”

Your next visitor is not Batman.

It is, in a turn of events that makes a little more sense, the Signal.

A few days after your call with Steph, things are fine, until your manager posts to the team group chat about wanting someone for an afternoon shift, saying someone quit unexpectedly. Not one to say no to some extra cash, you latch onto the opportunity—even if it’s an admittedly questionable idea. You try not to work weekends to let yourself recuperate from sustaining your not-so-great sleep schedule.

Anyway, you feel and look like a zombie, but you get your work done.

“I can help the next person in line,” you call.

A tall, broad-shouldered stocky older man with long blonde hair and blue eyes behind coke-bottle glasses steps up, armed with two large cups of coffee. The scrubs he wears clues you into some kind of healthcare position.

“Hi, did you find everything—”

The door opens, your eyes automatically flickering to the movement, and your voice cuts out sharply as you realize who it is.

The Signal stands there a bit awkwardly for a moment as all of you look—the blonde man at the counter and the other man waiting in line.

“Hey, you!”

You flinch, tensing, already fearing a confrontation as the other man steps forward, pointing at the Signal. The one in question tenses, shoulders rising, like he’s preparing to fight. You hope not. That would be a lot of paperwork for you. It’s the manager’s, technically, to report any damage done by vigilantes, but they always give it to you or the other employees on the floor.

But it is not as you feared. Instead of picking a fight, the man… thanks him?

“You’re the Signal, right? Right? You saved my son a few months ago from some muggers following him home from school. Thank you, man. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough. He wouldn’t be here with me if it weren’t for you,” the man says, holding out a hand.

“Hey, man,” Signal says, reaching out to shake his hand. “It was nothing. I’m glad I was there to help.”

“Are you here to buy something? Let me cover you. Please. It’s the least I can do—”

“Oh, you really don’t need to—”

“That went better than expected.”

The soft-spoken voice brings you out of your thoughts and you belatedly realize you still have a customer to take care of. But when you look at him, he is watching the Signal try to tell the other man that he doesn’t have to pay for him, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah,” you say. “Good thing. Signal’s a good guy.”

He turns back to you as you scan the cups of coffee, pulling out a wallet.

“He is,” he agrees easily—meaning his words, too, a genuine conviction you don’t hear often associated with the vigilantes of the city.

Signal manages to hold firm on not needing the man to pay, repeating that he was just doing his job, and thankfully, the man accepts it with good graces.

You quickly get your current customer wrapped up while the Signal steps into the chip aisle.

You pass him the receipt. “Thank you, have a good day.”

He sends you a small, handsome smile, picking up the cups of coffee. “Thank you, you, too.”

The one after him steps up to pay, talking jovially with you, spirits still apparently lifted at seeing Signal and being able to thank him. It’s a nice moment, you think, and you make sure to respond in kind.

The door swings shut behind him just as Signal re-emerges from the chip aisle, holding a can of Monster Energy and a bag of chile picante Cornnuts. The combination is… surely something. You let yourself slip with it, too, because you’ve personally heard a lot of good things about him. The fact that he works during the day helps his case, too.

“I need the energy,” Signal says, seeing that thought in your face; he doesn’t sound mad, though, just vaguely amused. His suit is filled with more yellow tones, still intimidating but not as much in the daylight, a helmet of sorts leaving only his mouth exposed.

“It’ll definitely give you… something,” you say, chuckling as you scan both.

He pats his stomach. “I have guts of steel. Don’t worry about it.”

“Not a problem as long as I never have to hear ‘guts of steel’ ever again. Jesus. Is that just a natural thing of your biology or is it evolutionary-based?”

“This life isn’t for the faint of heart or stomach,” he agrees, passing you a five dollar bill. “Adaptation is key.”

“I bet.”

Signal laughs, taking his change and dropping it into the tip jar. You smile, too, shaking your head slightly.

“Have a good day.”

He tips his Red Bull at you. “You, too.”

Guts of steel. You nearly can’t believe it.

You pick up your phone, finding your conversation with Tim. You and Steph are hanging out tomorrow, so you’ll tell her about it, then. She asked him, though, and he said he was busy. Too bad. But that doesn’t mean he gets out of being subjected to those words, either.

no joke signal came in to buy a monster energy and cornnuts (a questionable combo) and when he saw me judging he said he has guts of steel

meta related do you think???

makes sense to me. you have a gene inside you that gives you literal powers i think they shouldn’t be having digestive issues/ibs like us common folk do

Your three texts, sent in quick succession, deliver. You bite the inside of your cheek as you see your previous ones still unanswered. It’s been like that for the past few weeks. Not him ignoring you but a bit of a dry spell going on in your messages that was only broken when you told Steph what happened and decided you had to tell him, too.

It’s not his fault. The dry spell from before or the lack of responses going on now.

You started the first thing. So, it’s more your fault than anything for all of that. Steph’s talked to him, though, and she’s never let up on anything amiss…

You groan quietly, dropping your phone on the counter and burying your face in your hands.

Too complicated. Too much.

It never used to be like that but… things changed recently.

You, mostly.

You met Stephanie Brown your second semester at Gotham University.

Taking your required elective, you chose Intro to Psych. She was doing the same. Though, being a social work major, psychology was practically a cousin to it.

The professor for the class turned out to be a total dud. Rambled during lecture, refused to give out study guides, and while he would give out hints as to what material might show up on exams, his questions were trick ones. When people complained, he said some crap about being in a higher ed setting and needing to do better because of it. Like his class was some 300 or 400 level course and not a literal intro course to a large and burgeoning field of study.

But classes are expensive, so, you couldn’t drop it. Refused to, really, knowing you would face much more difficult classes later on, ones you knew you might need to drop and try again. So, you weren’t going to waste the money on this type of class.

Steph was of the same thought.

She sat next to you in the lecture hall. You two didn’t talk until after the first exam and everyone was upset about their grades, the exams having been handed back at the end of class. Your shared frustration brought you together, mostly as you two were ranting about it, you packed up and wound up leaving class together, the both of you just too caught up in your anger to realize you both needed to go in opposite directions for your next class.

You initially agreed to be study partners, to cover more ground that way. But Steph managed to worm her way to your heart by the end of that semester.

Your astounding lack of friends helped, too. Even if things had been that way since your junior year of high school, even if you wanted things to remain that way to protect what little remained of your heart, the loneliness hit you harder than you thought it would when you started college.

And Steph was nice and funny and listened to you and paid attention to you and you… were so very deprived of those things, so it was nice in the beginning, but then you realized, to your own horror, that you actually wanted her to stick her around, that just as she knew nearly everything about you by the end of the semester, you knew nearly everything about her, too, and you wanted to know more, wanted to be there for her like she always was for you.

You have that and more now and you are so very lucky because of it.

Tim, though?

Tim was something else.

Steph told you she had a friend visiting.

Just that—that she had a friend visiting campus and she ‘hoped he could find his way to the computer workstation on the fourth floor because as soon as I sit down, I’m not leaving for anything other than to use the bathroom or some kind of world-ending event.’

It was a particularly grueling paper she had to churn out—twenty pages, heavily research-based with the kind of statistics that made your head spin.

Working at the front desk of the Martha Kane Library at the time, you humored her. Told her good luck and that you’d keep an eye out. The second part was a joke, of course, because she never said who was visiting her and how could you know if she never said anything?

You and Tim Drake wound up finding each other, anyway.

Well, more like he found you.

It sounds sort of romantic, right?

It’s… well, it’s certainly something.

“I’m just saying,” you’re telling him, totally neglecting your homework and the other duties you have at the front desk (you know this last part is especially true by the way your coworker, also at the front desk, is side-eyeing you but come on, there’s no one in line, so it’s fine!). “It’s a solid movie.”

Tim Drake gives you a comically disbelieving look. “A solid movie? It’s—it’s gaseous.”

“Did… you just make a physics joke? About the three states of matter?”

Tim turns an attractive shade of pink. “It’s four, actually, and, uh… yeah.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Steph is right. You really are a geek. Anyway. Cloverfield still sucks.”

“Your opinion is automatically negated by the fact that you think the Final Destination movies have any kind of substance to them.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that. I just think they’re good ‘cause of Mary Elizabeth Winstead. You probably think the Transformers movies are actually good, don’t you?”

He looks offended. “Don’t insult me. We hate Michael Bay in this house.”

“Sure.”

“But I do think Bumblebee—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Bumblebee is good for a change, we all know it. You’re probably one of those Nolan stans, aren’t you?”

“I don’t think any of what you just said are real words.”

“Oh, they’re real alright. Nolan stans are constantly on his dick, they’re all like, ‘Nolan is so deep and thoughtful and there is no one else like him.’ Wrong. I could find ten of him in the movie industry.”

Tim narrows his eyes accusingly at you. “Steph said Interstellar is your favorite movie.”

“It’s his only good movie.”

“Don’t count out Inception like that.”

“Never seen it.”

“Wow.”

“You know what you sounded like just now? A Nolan stan.”

Tim actually grins at you and your stomach flutters at the sight of it. It’s that that had drawn your eyes to him. The cute but confused looking guy loitering around nearby, systematically checking his phone and glancing around—presumably for a map of the confusing and ancient library. With dark hair, pale skin, and pretty blue eyes that make you feel unbearably seen, Tim Drake is a sight for sore eyes. Your eyes, to be certain.

Of course, you also know he’s here for Steph. That he is the friend she spoke of. And also the ex-boyfriend. That reminder sobers you considerably.

Kind of funny, really.

Much can be said about Tim Drake.

The adoptive son of Bruce Wayne. The kid who snuck into No Man’s Land on a dare and had to be extracted by the US military after his father made a fuss about it. Then later, became controlling shareholder at Wayne Enterprises for whatever reason, boosting him into a very powerful position. Then he got engaged. Then he was shot—he was meant to be killed but obviously, it hadn’t gone that way. All this at seventeen.

But eventually it petered out. He stepped down. Engagement broke off. He recovered. Now? He does some work for WE. That’s all that’s known to the press, anyway.

It’s like you said. Much can be said about Tim Drake.

But most of your impression is from Steph. He plays Warlocks and Warriors sometimes. Is a bit of a computer geek and has built his own PC for gaming. Hits the skatepark every now and then. Likes to spend time tinkering on his car. And… has strong opinions on movies.

Above it all?

He is her ex. A good friend now! But still. That fact remains.

“Anyway,” you say, adjusting your notebook, textbook, and bag of pens just to do something. “You’re here for Steph, right?”

“She told you?”

“Well, she’s obviously told you stuff about me.”

“Steph won’t shut up about you,” he says, seeming more amused than annoyed by that fact. “I can’t imagine it’s the same with me.”

“I know enough.” Like the fact that he is her literal ex-boyfriend. Even if Steph says their relationship wasn’t the greatest, had some very questionable decisions on both their parts, and ended a bit dramatically… he’s still the first person she ever fell in love with. She told you that much. “She’s upstairs on the fourth floor. Hit the elevators over there, then when you get to the fourth floor, turn left, then another left, and the computer workstations are on your right. Can’t miss them.”

“You should watch Inception,” he says, instead of acknowledging literally anything you just said.

You arch an eyebrow challengingly. “You should watch Interstellar.”

He taps a finger on the counter. “We should do both. You, me, and Steph one of these days.”

“I hate to say it, but that sounds like a good idea.”

Steph’s voice scares the shit out of you. You bang your knee on the desk, cursing.

Tim looks unruffled as she comes from the side—the direction of the elevators, joining him at the counter and nudging his shoulder as she goes. He nudges back. They keep the contact.

“Sorry, Stephie,” you say. “We got preoccupied.”

“Arguing,” she corrects, but she doesn’t look upset about it. Instead, her cobalt blue eyes twinkle with something you can’t quite identify as she drops her chin into her palm.

“We weren’t arguing,” Tim says next. “We were lightly debating.”

“Of course. My cute little movie geeks. I think Duckboy’s right, though—” Tim groans slightly and mutters her name in annoyance; she ignores it “—we should get together and see them.”

You scratch your cheek. “I don’t know. Finals—”

“—are not for another month. I say let’s do it.” She looks at Tim and jabs a thumb at you. “She needs more friends.”

“Stephanie, please.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Timothy needs more friends, too. Friends from, say, the other half.” She smiles mischievously, a joke known only by the two of them.

Tim, for his part, rolls his eyes but says nothing in protest.

You don’t need more friends. More friends is actually a very bad idea. Letting one person get close was bad enough. Another person? Hell, no…

But the look on Steph’s face tells you that you, quite frankly, have no say in the matter. And the way you and Tim ‘lightly debated’ movies for a solid half hour tells you, too, that it’ll be too easy for you and he to become friends.

You decide to shelve the issue for now as Steph tugs him away, promising you that she’ll arrange for things.

Maybe it won’t pan out. Maybe he’s actually horribly arrogant and conceited. (Though, if he’s friends with Steph, the likelihood of that is admittedly low.)

You don’t know. All you know is it’s dangerous to let yourself get close to someone else.

But that’s all rather dramatic, isn’t it?

And it didn’t turn out how you wanted—you met Tim in the first semester of your sophomore year; your junior year just ended this May. You’ve been friends with him for a year and half. Steph for two. No end appears to be in sight. But you’ve compartmentalized. It’s just two people. That’s fine.

It’s totally fine.

Even if it’s two people to match the two others you lost when you were fifteen. Like a repayment for the pain.

(Or a way to double it.)

But you lost your parents in the earthquake.

Scientists called that a once-in-a-lifetime event.

There are plenty of things going on in this city that could cost your friends their lives but… it’ll never be as devastating as the earthquake.

The earthquake where you nearly died after a piece of metal pierced your thigh, barely missing your femoral artery, and you spent the entire time from after the earthquake, when they dug your body out of the rubble, and to when they decided to exile the city, in a coma from the infection.

By the time you stabilized, you were on a helicopter to Blüdhaven, the rest of the city in a panic to leave, and your parents were officially gone by that point.

They couldn’t even find their bodies in time.

It took almost three years before they did. The year in which the government turned a blind eye to the city and cast it away, then another two years to rebuild, to sift through the ruin and destruction, to find the bones of the ones left behind since they were decomposed by then, and identifying them was an even more arduous task.

You only managed to receive the catharsis of burying them when you turned eighteen.

You might tempt fate by saying this but even if you lost either of them, the fallout would never beat that. A blessing, in that way.

But even you hate to consider the possibilities of them leaving you. For anything.

They won’t.

Everything will be fine.

It has to be.

reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @peachesona @knoxx-seresinbradshaw @kikis-writing-service @sweetistic @soundsfunbutno @ginevraxrogers

[if you'd like to be added to the taglist (or removed), let me know here or in my inbox! ^_^]

#tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #dc comics imagine #tim drake imagine #red robin imagine #tim drake x you #tim drake x y/n #red robin x you #red robin x y/n #batfamily x reader #batfam x reader #batfam x you #batfam x y/n

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skelliko · 4 months

Text

kazutora hanemiya |°- identify discovered

๑- plot summary: y/n is in a different gang (wilder lands, (i made it up) ) but tries to hide her identity as a girl with a mask and ect, but then gets found out

a/n- [this is the first part of a fanfic I'm currently writing just out of boredom] nvm its on haitus

°- Kazutora hanemiya (Walhalla)

a little run-in was certainly not what they both expected, but it was something that the other wanted. upon seeing the person in front of kazutora with a black mask covering half of his face and a gang's jacket having the name 'wilder land' written downwards the left sleeve, it's made clear that he's the one that has infiltrated Walhalla's territory.

• the jacket is black all over and has the gangs symbol of a white rat from behind and as well as the name of the gang written downwards on one sleeve

• wears a mask to cover up her identity, for her daily life and so other members don't recognise her to be a girl

"you rat!" Kazutora immediately called out making y/n to get a little frightened due to her not needing this run-in so soon after some recent events that she previously had to deal with, she's not fully recovered enough to deal with this right now.

"shit" y/n whispered to herself before trying to sprint away from him, she knows her limits and doesn't dare to overstep them in case she misses a step, so running right now instead of getting into a 1V1 fight is the best option. but even then, stamina is still pretty low.

"oi don't run away you wuss!" kazutora yells from behind but soon enough the large gap they had when they first noticed each other was caught up and it was a close goose chase.

the mask that y/n wore didn't exactly help with her breathing so for a short moment she lowered it down below her chin so she could breathe properly, kazutora was behind so the only way he could see her was if he moved to the front.

turning corner to corner, and risking herself by running across roads hoping to not get hit by a car, it was getting exhausting and her legs were starting to get strained, even a stitch has developed on the side of y/n's stomach from running too much.

y/n ended up running into an abandoned warehouse with the first doors already wide open. old, broken crates and boxes sat by the sides and litter scattered around the floor such as empty bottles and wrapping, there's a high chance that it's probably someone's hideout but a good risk to take nevertheless if it means possible escape. y/n put the mask back on over her mouth and nose and stopped in her tracks to look past the doorway to see if the Walhalla's number 3 is still lingering by or not,

bending down a little to rest her hands above her knees to catch her breath while staring down the doorway without blinking, for a moment it seemed like she had managed to get away but that thought didn't relax her since anticipation floated around instead, and exactly then kazutora's shoes skit the gravel underneath him and stopped In front of the open doors where y/n's eyes were locked in at, "I'll snap your legs in half so you stop running!" he exclaims almost scarily enthusiastically, potential adrenaline kicking inside of him

panic flooded y/n making her jump slightly and upon instinct she whipped out a small blade from her pocket in case she had to engage in a fight, the silver blade glistened from the light and kazutora stopped in his tracks for a split second before he continued to keep moving, he both found this chase aggravating and entertaining. he certainly was the tiger and her being the rat.

her body trembled slightly from the strain that she had to endure and her mind was close to becoming foggy so she tried to run despite if doing so she wouldn't get anywhere far and instead just collapse on the ground, but it's still an option to take.

either run till you pass out or pass out getting beaten.

hurriedly running towards the other end of the warehouse where the two back doors are shut, upon reaching the two doors and almost painfully smashing the side of her shoulder against the door and wobbling the handle to try and open it but all it did was make the doors rattle, they were locked.

before she could do anything else a hard wack crossed the side of her face and a forceful arm took hold of her, as if a large snake had curled up and begun to choke her neck. kazutora had hit y/n and had placed her in a chokehold.

Kazutora won't admit but he had noticed an off feeling about the guy who he chased down, something such as a feminine feel but if questioned kazutora wouldn't be able to answer why, other than 'smaller than most'. but the thought immediately went away when he noticed the previous blade in the 'rats' hand was nearing Kazu's arm so with the other hand kazutora loosened the choke hold to grab hold of the blade resulting in Y/n being in no shape or position in having the higher advantage. other than her having propper airway now,

in this very moment she was weak, before the chase she was weak, maybe if caught at another time she wouldn't have been the rat.

kazutora inspected the blade that was now in his hands for a second or two before waving it around next to the side of y/n's face out of humour, nausea grew over her and almost nothing made sense to her anymore, was it the sprinting in the cold weather making her temperature jump from hot to cold?

"shouldn't play with knives" he mocks and a smile crosses over his lips, his eyes then fell onto the black mask and curiosity flooded his mind, "firstly, let's see what's under the mask ey? gotta know who's the one trying to sneak out information" kazutora then pinched the middle of the mask and forced it off from her with the straps sliding over her ears.

y/n's warm body from when she started to feel sick then fell back down into a normal temperature as cool air flowed through her mouth. she's aware of what's happening, and is aware that if she tried to move she'd only struggle, so the only option she had was to face it, deal with it and just suck it up.

in kazutora's mind, who was known to be a 'boy' is actually a girl. he stared at her not him for what felt like both a long and short moment. he didn't know what to do, he couldn't tell if his eyes were even working, maybe this person in front of him is actually a guy but just looks like a girl??

"you gonna keep staring or what?" y/n finally spoke, a bit of a worn out, raspy voice was heard but her voice was certainly one a girl would have. at that moment kazutora realised it was his first time hearing the person talk but also at that moment realising that person is a girl.

"you..." he let go of her and took two quick steps backwards but gripped the blade that he had previously taken off from her. he didn't know what to think, the whole time that's a girl? his eyes darted all across her, from head to toe and was unsure if he should still try to attack or not. despite being an enemy of Toman, old habits and rules still stick by him, to not harm girls. but nevertheless, if she were to lunge forwards he wouldn't hesitate to fight back.

y/n also took a few steps backwards and turned around to face him while bringing up a hand up to where she previously got hit, a hint of awkwardness lingered between the two as any clear direction of what to do next was pretty much out of the window

y/n hesitated briefly upon speaking up, biting her lower lip as her eyes darted around kazutora not daring to take her eyes off him, pain from when he had hit her previously rose up on the side of her temple making her endure the pressure, she cleared her throat briefly before finally speaking up "will you... rat me out?"

though right after this words were spoken she cringed, why wouldn't he tell her secret out? she's been lying about being a guy for quite some time and even then she's the one that infiltrated his hideout to evedrop and be a secret nuisance

"why shouldn't I?" he straightened himself up a bit but still had his guard up and shifted the knife in his grasp. 'not a bad looker' he briefly thought but that wasn't his main thought at all,

"don't know. forget I asked" she replied almost immediately after,

"...I'm gonna quickly ignore the reveal and cut to the main part for now, the fuck were to doing spying on us and what do you know?" he firmly spoke up,

"what if I don't say anything?" knowing that playing around and testing the waters isn't the best option but considering how he reacted when realising that y/n is a girl and chose to let go of her that couldn't be ignored and instead used as an advantage

"you-! I would have punched you so hard if you were a guy!"

"no please do, I know I fucked up so I'll take a hit, i can put back on my male persona so it's easier for you, just please hit me" she sounded desperate with the thought of feeling physical pain other than being pained that she will soon enough have nowhere to belong if this secret gets out, what else is there for her?

a lot actually, but she doesn't want that.

"the hells wrong with you now? just what kind of secrets are you hiding?" he took a singular and small step forwards but all y/n did was shuffle her footing only going back by an inch.

"okay maybe that came out a little unexpected but I have all the reasons but none to give" she admitted

"stop trying to say smart things and just spit the information out would you! I don't have the time and I won't make time" he's clearly growing impatient

"I fucked up, that's all! I thought I was doing the right thing cause you can't keep your guys in control and their prowling around our turf so why couldn't I?" she busted the word out

"stupidity is all I hear, I can't even tell if that's a lie or the truth seeing its coming out from you..."

"...I'm still conflicted about you being a girl, how do you get away with that so easily?" he was starting to get cautious now and pry interest into the topic "and most of all why?"

"wasn't and isn't easy for various reasons but the reason for why i did all this in the first place is something that i cant and simply won't share, i aint one to just give out personal information like that"

"oh? so you can sneak into our hideout, pry around when we're not looking and listen in into our conversations and run around freely but cant say why you pretended to be a guy? why a girl like you chose to live the lifestyle of gangs and violence?" kazutora became a bit more intimidating and if not that, then definitely a lot more forward and critical while walking closer to her,

"tell me, why does a girl like you think that you have what it takes? why do you carry around a knife but can't use? all you can do is run around and act like you know what you're doing but you don't" he brought the knife up and pointed it at her chin before speaking up again, "quit playing pretend and actually become useful for something, delinquency or harsh reality isn't meant for you"

whilst still pointing the knife at her he took a step backwards and let go of it letting it hit the smooth, yet worn out and jagged concrete with a clang, he looked at y/n as if he was searching some sort of reaction from her but all he could find was nothing, just dull eyes and an expression that can't be explained which he considered to be strange but without sparing another second he started to walk away in the direction of the first entrance to the warehouse.

in his mind he thought of y/n to be like any other girl, weak-minded and secretly has a perfect life, a little spoiled and has a functioning family. but that's far from the reality that he's unaware of, he can't help but think that she was trying to prove something that she can't prove and never will be. maybe to what y/n had heard kazutora say to be mean but to himself he considers that to be a teaching for her to try and not get involved in places where she knows she doesn't belong in.

though he barely knows her and doesn't even know her name, which thinking of that now made him slow down his walking and debate on going back, but what would he gain from a name of a random girl? so he just kept on walking.

even with hearing footsteps hitting the gravel from behind him he kept walking away not expecting much from the girl, though that was mistaken cause his steady balance was taken away and he fell flat forwards and heavy pressure was placed on his back, his chest pressed against the sharp graven was like laying down on bent screws.

the side of kazutora's head was laid down on the ground and his eyes looking up at y/n,

he could have easily tried and pushed her off to the side and gotten up however one thing that did fully register in his mind was a sharp, metal point underneath his jaw. the previous knife.

"I expect you to keep it a secret, I didn't gain shit from walking into your turf so there's no need for you to gain anything from this" she spoke quite harshly but never rose her voice,

one knee pressed against the upper center of kazutora's back and with one hand she took hold of one of his wrists and forced his arm down to the gravel while with her other hand she dug in the blade into his skin, she only dug a little, enough for it to cause discomfort as the very tip of the blade is hidden from skin being pressed inwards.

"your not gonna do anything" kazutora spoke through his teeth

"no I won't, but that doesn't mean I don't have an advantage, I mean I could probably give you a neat scar... or better yet ruin that tattoo"

"don't try and speak all highly, the hell is it with you?" he spoke back, barely reacting to the situation

"I'm sure it's quite obvious what I want, I don't need you running your mouth around and ruining what I have, i-"

and just then it seemed like y/n's strength wasn't able to pin kazutora down for long, that must have been obvious when pressing a knee down to his back since his stiff back could be felt, and also the hand size comparison when she took hold of his wrist.

y/n was now on her back and it was a painful pin due to the gravel and the different-sized rocks scattered around outside the warehouse, how she knows how he felt around the ribs

kazutora is now sat on top of her with one hand holding both of her wrists together and with the other hand he pointed the blade that he took away by twisting her wrist, the blade under her chin quite similar to before but now touching her skin how she did to him.

"you bitch" y/n whispered but it was clear enough for anyone to hear that so happen to be as close as kazutora is

"I wanna know why your so keen on being kept in a gang? do you hate baking cupcakes? do you not have any friend's? why don't you go home and watch some sappy romcom"

"your just thinking of a stereotypical girl" this is getting awfully annoying for her but same goes for him having to deal with this,

but just then a thought appeared, why not try and pester him a little. "what happened to you being in toman? I thought they were all about keeping a girl safe" she then tried to move her wrists away since he was holding them up and not pinned down but that was useless because it did more bad than good cause it made her shoulderblades to dig deeper into the gravel and him just pulling her hands back like a leash to an eager dog

"the fuck you say?" clear anger and almost confusion filled his expression, even his grip around her wrists increased and he began to dig his short nails into her skin making her to hold her breath

he leaned down just a little "Mention toman again and ill make sure you understand how much things are different from then to now" his whole mood has switched up, sure previously he was already quite annoyed but this is completely different

"don't mention anything about me then, and I won't tell anyone about there's a spy working for you"

he lowered his chin a little as his mind began to think of what she meant but then it finally clicked, kisaki.

he couldn't help but stay silent for a brief moment, 'so she does know something after all, if she knows that much then certainly she knows everything else' he avoided eye contact with her and looked off to the side, he stopped digging his nails into her skin and relaxed a little causing the knife that he was holding to loosen a little away from her skin, but didn't let go.

after a few seconds y/n spoke up but then got cut off,

"so what does that-?"

"Why don't you shut up! should have kept the mask on so I really could've punched you"

his mood is currently all over the place, jumping from line to line between being angry and annoyed to needing to admit defeat and sort things out quickly. he can't stay here forever.

being a girl really does have its advantages, but that doesn't mean it'd work for everyone or simply anyone, just got lucky that it was at least kazutora who used to be in toman that was learnt not to harm girls, if it were any other walhalla member then y/n would have definitely had a few broken fingers so that she would never be able to pick up a knife or let alone a fork.

after another short moment of silence and tension kazutora made a move and drew back the blade as well as slowly let go of her wrists, he got off from her but couldn't help but feel a little humiliated by the whole situation and the position.

"I'm keeping the blade" is all he said as he took a few steps away and turned back to look at her

"on cmon don't be a prick" she protested and sat up from the ground, wincing a little as the gravel fell down from the back but the relief quickly flooded over her upon him being off of her,

kazutora turned back around briefly, "me being a prick would be telling everyone just who you are and nailing you inside of one of those empty crates-" he pointed at the open door to the warehouse that had some crates inside "-and me being stupid would be to give it back the second time"

he did have a fair point, not so long ago he was being threatened with it. she scoffed and stood up from the ground and brushed down any dust and dirt that stuck to her clothes, "fair enough" she mumbled not exactly wanting to admit it

"What's your name?" he wants to at least know something more. clogs are still turning in his head as he's still trying to process it all, the rival gang member that is occasionally seen around Walhalla's territory as if he's searching for something... has always been a girl,

she thought about it a little before replying, though the name that she gave was her fake name. the name she uses in the life of delinquency.

"f/n"

"only giving one name? fine by me" kazutora knew it was a fake, but trying to interrogate something small as a name would be pointless, he'd seen her around before and would definitely see her again. except with some change, still an enemy though.

"Okay f/n... tell me how much you know about Walhalla and what you've heard and I won't say a thing about you" he took a step forward prepared to grab hold of her if she tried to run, even though there was no good in running

she shuffled her footing a little and thought of a good response before replying,

"enough to know that 'wilder lands' and 'tokyo manji' could be potential allies, if not, then be on mutual terms. enough information to make your plans fail"

she spoke confidently but inside her mind, she wasn't even sure, and one thing that did come out of kazutora was clear annoyance and even disgust as she spoke about allying with Toman, so freely too.

Walhalla is just a mix of Tokyo manji haters with past grudges and unresolved fights.

"just cut the crap and spit it out, I don't need to keep asking"

"no one's asking you to do that. you already know what I know and I know what you know about me. let's just leave it at that, you wouldn't want anyone to see us having a little chit-chat making suspicions, would you?"

she tried to get him to lay it off but also make his nerves flame up.

he was practically looking down on her, girl or not she's still a rival, a pest that won't go away that thinks they're in a clear just cause no one noticed them, or maybe they have noticed but can't do anything about it due to other, bigger concerns.

which in his case would be to firstly take down Tokyo manji.

'Wilder Lands' and 'Walhalla' can barely be called enemies but also nowhere near being mutual. They're not at each other's throats, digging daggers into their ribs but instead throwing little pins at the back of their necks back and forth,

fights sometimes tend to break out both day and night between the two different members, using punches and kicks and even to play dirty with bats and pipes on some good days. but then go to not even bat an eye at each other the second they've gone 5cm past.

a lot of the time it's always the same people though, at this point it's like a constant rematch but no one's counting points.

how did all that even start? from an over arrogant Walhalla member bickering with a 'wilder lands' and constant words being spat at each other, from that point onwards it just grew to be a moment to waste time from both sides and have an excuse to hate.

sometimes it gets out of hand though, it's not always pathetic bickering but also some broken bones and jaws if not stopped quickly. currently not all fun and games.

kazutora dropped the topic and watched as y/n took out a new black mask from her trouser pocket. her previous one was taken off and dropped on the floor back in the warehouse just a few steps away from them, it's probably all dusty and filthy.

"now that I look at you, you sure don't seem all that of a guy" he connected a few dots from before and now and compared her to any other guy. even with the baggy uniform more points clicked in his mind.

"just shut up and leave" she rolled her eyes at his comment but didn't ignore it, 'i should probably try and do more work on my disguise, probably try using make-up or something' even though that's not exactly the main problem.

but he still hadn't left, kazutora still lingered by with more questions. "how long have you been part of the whole thing? and can you even fight?- how are you even still alive?" thought he was more or so mocking her rather than being curious

"long enough, I'm leaving" is all she had to say before turning around and walking off, occasionally would turn her head back to see if he was still there but by the second turn she saw his back walking away in the opposite direction.

she wasn't there to have a little chat, though neither was kazutora, he just wanted to see if he could get something out of her, though y/n was sure not to give too much Information about herself even though the questions he asked weren't all that personal but trust issue always poked at her brain and told her to shut up.

they'll definitely meet again but under different circumstances than before.

♡----

#tokyo revengers #kazutora #kazutora hanemiya #fanfiction #kazutora x reader #kazutora hanemiya x reader #tokyo revengers kazutora

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robins-egg-bindery · 1 year

Text

ever in your favor by @iron--spider

Peter startles awake when someone shakes him.

“Sorry, honey,” May says. Peter blinks a couple times and she comes into focus, her hair pulled back from her face. She’s trying not to look a certain way, but he can see it in her eyes anyway. She clears her throat, keeps talking. “But it’s…” She glances away, wets her lips. “You gotta get ready.”

He remembers what day it is, and his heart beats like a drum at someone’s execution. But he tries to put on a mask, make it all seem normal. It’s everything but, despite the fact that he’s been dealing with reaping day since he was born, between himself, Ben and May. That fear that one of them could be taken away. Sent to surefire slaughter. But now Ben is gone, taken despite never having his name drawn from a bowl, and May’s finally safe. Now Peter’s name is in there alone. The last Parker sitting on the chopping block. He doesn’t know how to be. He doesn’t know what normal is, when the Hunger Games are looming on the horizon.

fic by @iron--spider

art by @angel-gidget

624 pages / 153,984 words

Title Font: PP Hatton, Rustic Printed

Body Fonts: Californian FB, Moonglade, Bebas Neue, War Is Over, Architects Daughter