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toshidou · 2 years

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lighthouse for a lost comrade . . .

Pairing // Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word count // 4.9k

Tags // 18+ ONLY, AFAB reader, soft simon riley, written from simon's perspective, mild descriptions of injury and blood, hurt and comfort, aka simon finally allows himself to be looked after <3, he is a big boy with a heart that yearns to be loved you cannot convince me otherwise, the softest of smut, praise, you accidentally give ghost a 'sir' kink, reader calls ghost sir a couple of times because they're hot like that, unprotected sex (tut tut), creampie, a whole lot of swearing

AN // i love this man a ridiculous amount, so me writing nearly 5k about how much i love him was inevitable

AO3 link here

Simon Riley is not a man who cares about his own health. In fact, his wellbeing never has, and never will be a priority to him. He has work to do, gruelling, gritty, gruesome work, it is beyond pointless wasting time even thinking about when he last had more than 3 hours sleep, or how long it’s been since he consumed anything other than cold military rations. In his defence, he’s never really had a reason to give a shit, he sees the hourglass whenever he allows himself to close his eyes; watches the sand slip rapidly through the cracks, counting down until his inevitable, most likely painful death. He’s living life on a timer, and he’s never had a reason to change that.

Until he met you.

You were a wide-eyed rookie, Laswell bringing you into the fold as a technician, a skilled hacker and mechanic who despite your innocent doe eyes, held lethal talents. He remembers so vividly, the way your head had cocked to the side as Laswell introduced you to the peculiar members of task force 141, remembers the way your eyes stopped on him. You showed not a single ounce of fear or hesitance, just pure unbridled curiosity. That same curiosity led you to asking him far too many questions, relentlessly prying to see more of the man behind the mask, to see Simon Riley, rather than ‘Ghost’. It should have pissed him off, he should have reprimanded you for your callousness towards your Lieutenant, but somehow you knew exactly which questions to ask, knew exactly when to stop and move on to other subjects.

Contrary to popular belief, Simon doesn’t hide his past, doesn’t try to use it to fuel the mysterious and mythical reputation he’s unwittingly built. It’s just that no one ever asks. Maybe it’s something about the skull mask, or the egregiously high kill count he sits so casually on top of that has people wary of ever approaching him. But you—you had no hesitation. You read him like a goddamn book every single time, and it simultaneously terrified and relieved him.

One glance and every secret he shoved behind his balaclava is left bare before you, leaving him with a vulnerable, gaping wound in the shape of a lifetime of trauma and tales that Simon knows no person should ever have to experience. And yet, your eyes hold not an ounce of pity, no awkward silences attempting to be alleviated with an awkward pat on the back and a “that sounds rough, buddy”. You see his past, his pain, his suffering, his bad habits, without him ever having to explicitly say anything. And in return, you say nothing. You don’t try and mollify him about circumstances he’s moved on from long ago, you make no effort to coddle him, to sit him down and patronisingly ask him if he’s doing well, or when the last time he slept was.

Instead, you leave him cutely packaged leftovers on his doorstep, easy meals he can throw in the microwave when he’s too tired to even comprehend making food. You buy him a multitude of jigsaws and puzzles for when sleep evades him as it so often does. You never once try to change him, never force yourself into his life just so you can claim that you’re some selfless martyr. To Simon Riley, you are nothing short of a blessing, and falling in love with you was quite frankly the easiest thing he’s ever done.

He takes off the mask for the first time when neither of you were prepared, nor expecting it. The mission had been so fucking rough, camped out in the middle of nowhere on the hunt for someone he was sure had long since gone. Weeks spent trudging through thick mud, swimming upriver, tracking footprints that led nowhere, steered them to no one. His bone-deep exhaustion finally caught up with him after being shot in the leg and falling nearly 75 metres off of a cliff, plunging into the water below. Price had insisted he go straight to the medic tent back at basecamp, but then simply sighed and shook his head, resigned, as he watched Simon limp off the chopper, and in the exact opposite direction.

To most, this would be the latest example of Simon Riley once again disregarding his health for the sake of keeping up the stoic, strong mask he never let slip. Yet this time, Simon Riley was not disregarding his health, he was, for maybe the first time, trying to preserve what little of it he had left. His leg was near numb by the time he made it to your tent, his foggy mind quickly soothed by the sound of you humming along to the radio, accompanied by the rapid clicking of keys as you worked on some coding. It takes him hissing in discomfort as he attempts to remove his military boots for you to turn around, eyes going impossibly wide as you watch an alarmingly large pool of red grow at his feet.

“Jesus Christ Ghost, are you trying to redecorate my floor?” He kept his mouth shut, using the last dregs of his energy to keep his gaze pinned on you, dark brown irises following your every move as you usher him into the chair you occupied merely seconds before, gingerly hovering your hands over the drenched material that clings to his thigh, soaked in blood and water.

“I’m going to cut the material above the wound, okay? I need to see what I’m working with here.” Your eyes connect with his unwavering gaze, translating his silence into a language that has taken you an eerily short period of time to become fluent in. He watches you nod to yourself, can pinpoint the cogs turning in your mind, can practically see you write the list of how best to deal with this situation as you unpack your first aid kit. Somehow, despite his leg stinging like a bitch, despite how utterly worn he feels, so raw and rough around the edges, he feels at peace.

Price may think he was a stupid bastard for not seeing one of their trained medics, but Simon knows without a doubt that you will always be the best thing for him, you will always be the first port of call, the lighthouse that guides him oh so safely to shore, to home. Even when your stitches are a little uneven, even when you dab a little too much alcohol disinfectant onto his wound, even when you wince every time the muscle in his leg twitches involuntarily, he watches you pour every ounce of care and tenderness into every touch, watches you take care of him in a way no one else ever could, not that he’d let them.

You’re finishing off wrapping up the wound on his thigh when Simon realises he doesn’t want this moment to be over. He selfishly craves more of your delicate, gentle care, unsure if he could ever have this again after tonight, if he deserved it.

So, he waits. He waits for you to lean back on your haunches, bending back to check your handiwork with a satisfied smile tugging at your pretty lips. He waits for your eyes to drift to his, as they so often do, and then he speaks.

“I uh, I got hurt here too,” The words grate against his throat like sandpaper, rough and unsure as he lifts his hand to prod at his cheek, “think I hit a rock in the water after falling.” You stand immediately, eyebrows furrowed together as your fingers gently brush the small rip in his mask.

“I can’t see much with this in the way, Ghost, though I think you’ll live.”

Simon couldn't pinpoint exactly what had his fingers hooking under his mask, couldn’t single it down to any particular moment or word that had him pulling the black material over his chin, and up past his nose, he just knew it felt right. All he focused on was the way your lips fell agape, how your hands lifted automatically towards his wrists, whether to stop them or encourage them further he didn’t know, but he sure as fuck clocked the slight tilt to your head, taking him immediately back to when you first laid eyes on him.

You were looking at Simon in a way he can’t say he’s ever experienced. Like a complicated mixture of guilt and awe. But he feels no fear, no regret as he throws the skull balaclava unceremoniously onto the floor, and directly into the pool of blood he’d left by the door.

“Should be a little easier to see now, don’t you think?”

All he gets in return is a small huff of a laugh, the ghost of your breath fanning across his exposed face, he swears he’s never felt anything as sweet. That is until your hand comes to cup his face, shudders erupting down his spine when the pads of your impossibly soft fingers brush just under the superficial cut on his cheek.

“I don’t know Si, I think we might have to amputate.” You murmur, an overly dramatic lilt to your voice as you pretend to further examine the ‘wound’. And Jesus fucking Christ, if he isn’t so impossibly, incredibly fond of you.

“That bad, huh doc?” He leans forward, just enough to catch the way your pupils dilate, the slight hitch to your usually even breath, “Are you sure there’s nothing you can do to save it? I’m particularly fond of that cheek.” He drinks in the soft hum you give in response, watches you with rapt attention as you lean further forward, and nearly passes the fuck out when you press your lips to his upper cheekbone, because what the fuck.

Before this, Simon Riley could say with absolute certainty that he’d never once blushed in his life, but now? He could feel the blood rushing to his face, knowing without a doubt that you could feel the heat radiating from where your fingers and lips remain connected to his skin. His wide eyes, blackened around the sockets from a mixture of paint and week-long exhaustion, remain firmly fixed on you, hardly hesitating before he secures your hand against his face the second he feels you pulling away.

There are no words exchanged, nothing but shallow breaths and searching eyes before Simon allows himself to be selfish just this once and pulls you onto his uninjured thigh, guiding you to sit with his other hand, fingers digging ever so slightly into the meat of your hip. And now he has you here, right where he’s always wanted you, there’s not a chance in hell he’s ever letting you go.

“Please kiss me, Simon.”

As if he could ever say no to you.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

He removes his hand from your wrist, dragging his scarred knuckles as delicately as he possibly can across your cheek, fanning out his fingers around the side of your face, using the leverage to guide you impossibly closer. He allows himself one last look, tracing his gaze from your lidded eyes to your lips before he lets his eyelids fall shut, and loses himself in you. Loses every ounce of tension and exhaustion under the ministrations of your fingers as they tangle into his hair, and finally, fucking finally, he feels his once cold, dead heart thrum to life as you sigh contentedly against his lips. Kiss of life in-fucking-deed.

He's lost in every inch of you, can’t get over how soft and warm the plush of your waist is under his fingers, how responsive you are when he slides his hand ever so slightly under your oversized t-shirt. He wants more, he needs more, can’t help himself as he moves his kisses from your lips, down your jaw, until he reaches the base of your throat, sucking deep purple bruises into your supple skin.

“You taste like heaven,” He’s all too aware of how raspy his voice has become, desire only deepening his tone further as he drags his lips back up the expanse of your throat, a deep groan pulled from his throat when he feels you shift on his lap, highlighting the growing pressure of his cock straining against his pants. “Driving me fuckin’ wild already. Look what you’ve done to me, gorgeous.” His fingers come to curl under your jaw, directing your gaze down to the prominent tenting of his trousers, ensuring his eyes don’t dare drift away from your face as he watches you take in the view before you.

“Mine.”

The noise Simon makes in response is nothing short of primal, it wasn’t a sound he was even aware he could make, near guttural, but of course you would be the one to pull it out of him.

“That’s right baby, all yours, fucking hell,” he’s powerless to stop his eyes squeezing shut when he feels your fingers curl around his clothed cock, mustering every ounce of strength he has left not to cum in his pants there and then, because he’ll be fucking damned if he lets anything get in the way of giving you the pleasure you deserve.

“Come on Si, look at me.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath before he finally opens his eyes again, instantly zeroing in on your fingers as they begin to unfasten his pants, before flicking back up to meet your gaze, “Is this okay?”, your voice tentative.

“More than okay, Jesus,” Simon wastes little time after that, hands sliding under your shirt and shifting further up your torso, muscles freezing when his hand contacts nothing but bare skin, grazing the flesh of your breasts.

“No bra? Lucky me.” You laugh, arching your back further into his touch.

“More like lucky me, those things are basically torture devices, Simon, I’d like to see you try and work with metal wire and straps digging into your boobs and back,” He grins, pinching one of your nipples between two of his calloused fingers and revelling in the way your smirk twists into a moan, hips twitching against the rough material of his cargo pants.

“I think it’s about time you took these off,” He mutters, one hand dropping to thumb under the waistband of your sweatpants, “Can’t tell you the number of times I’ve thought about how pretty you’d look getting yourself off on my lap.” Apparently, Simon doesn’t need to say anymore, watching with intense eyes as you pull away from his grip, and begin undressing. Your top joins his mask on the floor, soon followed by your pants and underwear until you’re stood in all your naked glory, mere inches away from him. Simon must be the luckiest son of a bitch on this entire fucking planet.

He takes advantage of your absence by lifting his hips, cocking an eyebrow at you as he gestures towards his trousers, “Give an injured soldier a hand, would you doll?” Truthfully, Simon knows he would have no issues removing them himself, but why would he do that when he can have this instead? When he can have your body pressed in between his thighs, your deft hands undoing his buttons and sliding the material of his military pants slowly over his wrapped-up leg, when he can watch your eyes drink in every inch of new skin revealed with barely contained desire. No, he would much rather have this, especially when your dainty hands peel away his boxers, leaving him only in his top and vest plate.

“Simon…” You whine, your lips so perfectly pouted, a cute little furrow between your brows as you pull and tug at various parts of his vest, “help me take this shit off. It’s not fair that I’m the only one naked here.” He hums, schools his face to show careful contemplation, reaching up a hand to rest on your bare upper thigh.

“What’s the magic word, sweetheart?”

“Please, sir.”

Well fuck. That awakened something within him.

With military precision, he unsecured the armoured vest from his body, wasting no time in pulling his shirt over his head, joining the now large pile of clothes left scattered across the floor of your tent. For a brief second, Simon feels so incredibly vulnerable under your intense gaze, wondering if maybe this is how people feel when he fixes his stare upon them, bare and defenceless. But then you lower yourself back into his lap, settling across both his legs with such gentle care, wrapping both your arms around the back of his head and pinning him with a look he thinks most likely reflects his own.

“You’re so beautiful, Simon,” It’s almost too much, the sincerity in your voice mixed with the way the words were uttered so softly into the air, as though they were a secret only to be shared between the two of you.

“I’m nothing compared to you.” You shake your head, smiling, leaning forward until your nose brushes his.

“Just take the compliment, Lieutenant.” He tries his best not to shiver as he feels your hand trace down his spine, instead shifts his focus onto how close your lips are to his, or the quiet noise you make in the back of your throat as his hands come to grip the meat of your thighs.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Something in the air changes, as though the collective patience between the two of you could stretch no further, so taut it had no choice but to snap. His lips crash into yours, desperation surging through Simon’s veins like wildfire. Fuck, what are you doing to him?

“Can I touch you?” he mumbles against your lips, large hands aching from where they rest, yearning the feeling of your wet heat against his fingertips.

“God, yes, please.”

With newfound strength, he lifts you from his lap and twists you until your back is flush to his chest, uncaring of the twinge of pain he feels from his leg as he settles you fully on his lap. Now, Simon has full access to every inch of your perfect body, nuzzling his face into the side of your neck as he litters the skin with open mouthed kisses, humming contentedly at the way you arch into his hands as he cups your breasts with both hands, fingers toying with your nipples until they’re perked and firm under his touch.

“No teasing, please,” Your pleading breaks him from a momentary stupor, bringing his head up to watch as you place one of your hands over his, guiding it further down, sweeping over your sternum, past your belly button, until his palm rests over your cunt, “I need you here, Simon.”

Fucking hell.

He couldn't find the words, couldn’t articulate them even if he had any. So, instead of speaking, he presses his hand over the curve of your cunt, groans when he feels just how hot and wet you are, all for him.

“Mine.” He repeats your words from earlier into the shell of your ear, a smirk stretching onto his lips at the full body shiver you give in response, growing near predatory when he feels your pussy twitch under his hand. God, how the fuck are you so wet? His fingers glide over your folds with ease, teasing your clit on every upwards swipe of his fingers, and when he finally dips his index finger into your cunt, he’s rewarded with the sweetest symphony. Breathy whines and whispered pleas of “more”, “deeper, Simon, please”, every request he happily indulges, now curling two fingers against your velvet walls, searching for the spot he knows will have you keening against his body. It takes a shift of his palm, the angle changing just enough to have you choking on a gasp, his other hand remains fixed to your breasts, pushing your chest down until you’re pinned against his body.

“Atta girl, feels good huh?” He slips a third digit in, cursing under his breath as he feels your pussy clamp down, twitching helplessly around his fingers as they continue to stroke relentlessly at your g-spot, “Gonna need you to cum at least once on my fingers before I give you anything else, baby.” He dares to steal a glance at your face, and is met with closed eyes, your mouth agape, and head thrown back onto his shoulder, you’re nothing short of a masterpiece. Your hands desperately grip onto his arms, nails digging sweet red crescents into Simon’s inked skin, as though the hold you have on him is the only thing keeping you grounded, and he feels positively fucking drunk on it.

You’re close, that much he can tell, and as much as he could absolutely keep you like this on his lap for another good few hours, he takes pity on your furrowed eyebrows and soft whimpers, removing his hand from your chest and placing his thumb into your open mouth. He doesn’t even need to instruct you as you close your lips around his digit and suck, your tongue eagerly lapping at the rough pad of his finger. He doesn’t have the strength to leave it there for much longer, overly aware of the way his cock desperately twitches from where it’s trapped between your bodies, instead focusing on the way you react the second his spit slicked thumb begins to rub tight circles around your clit.

“Si-, fuck, Simon ‘m close, so close, wanna cum,” There was never any other option for him than to watch you fall apart on his lap, but if he somehow needed further encouragement, “Please Sir, please make me cum.” It would be entirely impossible for him to stop the moan your words drag from his throat, to think of anything other than giving you your release. It’s obvious when your orgasm hits, having to stop toying with your now engorged clit to instead pin your hips down, worried there was a chance you might fall to the side if he didn’t keep you grounded.

“Good girl, such a good fucking girl, made such a mess of my fingers baby,” Simon hums against the side of your head, slowing his ministrations until he’s lazily fingering your still spasming pussy, drawing out the sweet sounds of post-orgasm sensitivity from your spit-shining lips. He waits until you finally regain some form of lucidity, waits until your neck straightens, no longer lolled against his collarbone to finally withdraw his fingers, soothing your whines at his absence with kisses to your jaw. But he makes sure your eyes are locked with his when he brings his fingers to his own lips, ensures you’re watching with nothing less than rapt attention as he cleans every drop of your arousal from his skin.

“Taste fuckin’ divine, princess.” Your head tips forward into your hands with a groan, and Simon couldn’t hide his pleased grin even if he tried.

“You’re not allowed to be this hot,” Your words muffled into your palm, the Ghost’s heart rate spiking when you looked at him shyly through your fingers, affection surging through his bloodstream like a shot of pure adrenaline. “Especially when I can feel your cock pressed against my ass.” As if he needed the reminder, as if that singular thought hasn’t been plaguing him for the past 10 minutes.

“And what exactly are you going to do about that, darling?”

His words were meant to make you shy, were said to watch those sweet eyes of yours widen. Except, Simon realises, he must have awoken something within you, something bold, something utterly fucking debauched, because instead of shying away, you lock your eyes with his, rising to the challenge he set. You stand up, turn yourself around, climb back onto his lap and sink down onto his cock in one fluid motion.

“Fucking-, shit, what the fuck,”

“I think that works for both of us, right, Simon?” You need to stop, or you at least need to give him some time to adjust to whatever the fuck it is you’re doing right now. He can tell you’re far from unaffected, however. The slight quiver to your voice, and the way the slick walls of your pussy clench greedily around him show at least that much. And yet, you’re pinning him with a fierce gaze, your fingers forming an iron grip on loose brown hair at the base of his skull, using him as leverage to grind your hips in circular motions. “Let me take care of you, handsome.” His response cut off by a groan as you begin to fuck yourself on his cock, his eyes frantically flicking from where your cunt swallows every inch of his shaft, back up to your heavy-lidded gaze, locked onto his as you effortlessly ride his cock.

So instead of trying to take the lead, to lift his hips to meet yours, for the first time ever, Simon Riley does as he’s told. He allows you to control the pace, lets you direct his hands to your waist, but doesn’t use it as a point of control. Instead he caresses your skin with rough fingers. He lets you take care of him. And God, does it feel good.

He lets his head fall back, lets his eyes slip closed, and allows himself to just exist in this moment with you. A luxury he hasn’t been able to afford for far too long. Instead, he focuses on the sounds dissipating into the air around your joined bodies, the soft pants and moans that spill from both his mouth and yours, the rhythmic slap of skin on skin combined with the slick noise of his cock fucking into your heat, and if he focuses hard enough, he swears he can hear the rapid beating of your heart where your chest is pressed flush to his.

“C’mon Simon, baby, look at me.” It takes an embarrassing amount of energy for Simon to lift his neck up, refocusing his gaze onto you, “You’re doing so well, letting me look after you like this.” And fuck, he doesn’t want to cry, can’t remember the last time he allowed himself the comfort of crying, but he feels so unequivocally safe around you. Still, the time for tears will come later, right now, Simon wants nothing more than to feel you lose yourself on his cock. He secures his hands on your ass, and stands, ignoring your surprised cries and worried scolding, and walks as best he can towards the mattress near your desk. He doesn’t want to admit that lowering you both down onto the cheap material nearly left him breathless, and he definitely won’t admit that you were right, he didn’t have the strength to do that. But now that he has you lying on top of him, cock still buried deep inside of you, he knows the pain was more than worth it. Because in this position, he can ground his feet into the mattress and focus on fucking you like you deserve.

He ignores the sting of pain in his thigh, no doubt ruining some of the stitching you had done earlier, but he couldn’t give less of a shit. Not when you’re mewling into his chest, nails scratching long, thin pink lines down the expanse of his chest as he fucks his hips ruthlessly up to meet yours. He knows he won’t last much longer, you feel too fucking good, and he has no strength to hold back, praying that you’re as close as he is as he snakes one hand down to toy with your clit once again. Relief washing over him when he feels your cunt clench like a vice around his length, allows himself one, two more thrusts of his hips before he finally reaches his peak, cock twitching like a heartbeat from where it’s buried within you, not moving until the last weak spurts of cum finish painting your cervix white.

“Fucking hell,” with his energy long since depleted, his body slumps into the mattress below, dragging you down with him, his arms still wrapped securely around your form.

“That good, huh?” You grin up at him, eyes glinting in the low light. You look positively stunning.

“You know it, sweetheart,” Simon pauses, looks down at where you’re still sprawled against his chest, and silently thanks the motherfucker who decided to shoot him in the first place, he’s not sure if he would have ever gathered the strength to have you like this, in the way he always craved. “C’mere, I want cuddles.” He grunts, choosing to ignore the surprised laugh you give in response, says nothing at your incessant teasing and light threats to tell Soap that “oh my god, Ghost likes cuddles”.

He does none of that, instead, he holds you close, stares up at the ceiling as you bury your face into his neck, whispering sweet confessions into his skin, words he soaks up and saves for a rainy day. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley has never been a man to care about his own health, even now he still sees that damn hourglass, unsure of how much sand remains. But now he has a reason to change that.

Now, he has you.

#☁︎⋅writing #simon riley #simon 'ghost' riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod mw22 #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #ghost x reader #ghost x you #dear lord #this derailed so quick #i wanted soft ghost #i got soft ghost plus nearly 2k of soft ghost smut #i ruined myself #anyway enjoy SLDFS

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ch3rry-wink · 8 months

Text

Even in Death

Pairing: curse!Yūta x f!reader

Summary: Yūta has returned from the grave just for you.

CW: +18, murder, yandere Yūta, slight gore, obsession, blood, stalking, smut, co-dependency?

Author's note: I've read a lot of Yūta and I wanted to write something too

If you had known the implications of killing your boyfriend that night, you might have stayed still as he criticized you for that letter you wrote months before you became a couple, confessing your love to someone else. But no, in a fit of rage, you decided to thrust that kitchen knife into his chest and then dispose of his body by burying it in an empty lot.

The police had come a couple of times asking questions; you lied and made sure to lie convincingly. Getting rid of them was easy.

On the other hand, getting rid of the entity that resembled your boyfriend would be a greater challenge. Three days after the incident, a figure began following you, and people seemed oblivious to its presence. A week later, the entity took shape and appeared before you – a more lifeless version of your boyfriend.

He stayed with you, coiling around your body, sometimes feeling him groping you. When he wasn't on top of you, he lurked in corners, staring at you intently. Nights became sleepless, hearing the sound of his nails on any surface, pulling your blankets, and if he was in a good mood, he would cuddle with you.

Mornings were a hassle too; he found it amusing to make you struggle to find your things, causing you to be late.

Nowhere and with no one were you safe. This was confirmed during a night out with friends when the entity whispered a command in your ear, threatening harm if someone didn't remove their hand from you.

Terrified, you left the place, locked yourself in a bathroom, and his head appeared under the cubicle door in an unnatural position.

"Leave me alone!" you screamed. "No, you'll always be mine," the entity slid under and stood in front of you. "You'll never be with anyone else; I'll kill anyone who gets close to you."

"Yūta, I'm sorry."

"Save those crocodile tears," he approached your neck and kissed you from the collarbones to your ear. "You didn't look very sad when you left me in that field that night."

"Is that what you want, a confession? I'll do it if it means you'll leave me alone."

"And how does that benefit me? I want you to be mine like in the old times." The thought disgusted you.

You broke free from his grip and ran to the subway. He followed, sat next to you, and began touching you everywhere. The announcement for your stop came, and you walked through dark streets. Some guys approached, and unsurprisingly, Yūta intervened, blood and guts at your feet – he had always been protective.

Back home, you rushed to the small altar your parents had set up in honor of Yūta. Seeking comfort and wisdom in prayers, but Yūta was guiding the situation, hands on your breasts, lips kissing your neck.

"Fine, we'll be together," he got excited, wanting to take everything right there. He was no longer bound to behave; it was just a hungry curse for you and resentment.

He lunged at you, you fell, and he held your hands over your head. Your eyes filled with tears. Despite the hatred, his love was greater, wanting you to desire him, enjoy him as when he was alive, not just a curse to annoy you.

So he was gentle, caressing your body adoring every part of it with small, slow kisses, gently removing your clothes.

You gasped when his fingers finally found their way to your panties and he moved them aside, made perfect circles over your clit and your hips lifted towards him as you felt his fingers enter, you missed this sensation, missed him - the version that was a sweet guy, not the jealous Yūta, and certainly not the cursed Yūta.

You ran your hands through his hair and pulled him in for a kiss, he followed your kiss and his fingers kept curling inside you at that sensitive spot that would bring you to the end, yet he stopped leaving you there halfway to orgasm.

"I want you to beg for me." He stood up, and you did the same; your body was tense, and you were angry.

"Please, Yūta," you used that little voice when you wanted to manipulate him into doing something; however, it didn't work, and you approached him, following the swirl button shape, and began unbuttoning one by one.

Curse Yūta was very thin, almost bony. You touched his collarbones and then descended to do the same with his ribs, while kissing his neck, your hands reached his pants, and you heard them fall.

He was holding back, playing hard to get, wanting to see how far you'd go to have him. Then, you knelt in front of him, ready to give him pleasure; he stopped you.

"Tell me what you want" he towered over you, looking down with his sad, lifeless eyes.

"I want you... Please don't leave, stay with me, I need you," you said between sobs.

"I wasn't planning on leaving, I'll always be with you," he reassured you. "I promised to always take care of you, but now I need to feel you," he said as you nodded in agreement."

You lay back on the floor, offered yourself to him by spreading your legs, removing your panties and running your fingers through your wet folds indicating you were ready just for him. He directed his cock towards your needy pussy, and began to move it over your folds teasing you and how needy you were. A growl came from his throat as he began to slide his length inch by inch inside you, he stood there not moving just waiting, feeling you throbbing around him. His thrusts were sudden and rough.

"Yūta!" you moaned as he pressed again and again on your g-spot. You squeezed his cock hard, he knew you were close by the way your pussy clenched and sucked on it.

His bony fingers moved to your clit and started rubbing it, your back arched and your pussy contracted on his cock. You felt his cock and balls spasming.

With a firm grip he held your hips and buried himself deeper into you, his fluids filling your pussy until they spilled out; It felt good, like in the old times when he was your boyfriend, because he still was; he was Yūta, a different version but the same Yūta.

Yūta collapsed next to you, you smiled at him your cheeks were flushed and on your eyelashes was still the wetness of some tears.

"I'm sorry" you put your hand on his chest and then moved to kiss him.

"It doesn't matter, we are together now and we will always be together..... You will always be mine."

"Always yours."

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu yuta #yuta okkotsu #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu smut #yandere yuta #jjk x reader #jjk smut #okkotsu yuuta #jjk yuuta #yuuta smut #yuuta x reader #yuuta x you #yuuta okkotsu

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vacayisland · 9 months

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Could you do a John Dory x Retired Singer/Musician Reader? Pls and thank you

(I loved meet the wifie I fucking cackled at "imma beat his ass!")

@!; Oldies are always better. John Dory / Retired! Reader

"Tag List"! @writergal02 @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @starzwithapen @ykvlanq @apieceofcathair3 @kitthefanfickat

ꨄ︎. You were a big alt-indie musician, making music that tended to have a little bit of everything; the funk and beat of the funk tribe and the techno tribe, the guitar riffs and drum solos from the rock tribe, some classical instruments as undertones, and pop-like lyrics and beats. All the while you also put your own spin on it. Music had always been an outlet for you, always allowed you to take what was in your head and thread it into sound for everyone to hear. Sometimes it was chaotic, sometimes it was mellow, and it always depended on your mood when writing, composing, and singing. It's usually was drew people to your music. It was down to Earth, yet also complex and simple at the same time. Those who wanted to dive into the meaning of your music and dissect it would find multiple layers, many undertones that all harmonized. Those who just wanted to vibe out to your music could do that as well.

ꨄ︎. When you had left your career behind, it wasn't because of anything bad. You left with one final song in which explained that you were stepping down to let the new generation to find their own flow, to let other people take the stage, to be able to sit back and enjoy everything that will come in the future. You were only around 24 when you put down your guitar for the final time for the public; But you never gave up music for good on your own. While you never published anything anymore, you kept writing and composing for yourself as it was truly your passion.

ꨄ︎. This is when JD found you, playing in a friend's cafe. You had caught his attention right away, so much so he didn't hear the waiter when he had asked for JD's order. He was honestly so captivated by you for a moment he wondered if you were some sort of siren. He soon realized, yeah no you weren't, you just were really, really good. And he needed your number, badly. And that sounded a little creepy, but when you see someone who's not only good looking but knows how to sing and play an instrument all in one? You don't miss that chance to talk them up, and JD was defiantly not missing his chance!

ꨄ︎. JD didn't see a ring on your finger, it was fair game for him. Luckily you hadn't been seeing anyone at the time, but you still gave him a reality check after he approached you as though he was the coolest guy on the planet; Introducing himself before using some sort of cheesy pick up line to get your number. "Hey, babe, my name is John Dory and you seem rather lonely. You know, I can fill that 'me' shaped hole in your heart if you give me your number!" And then he winked!? Your friend was flabbergasted. You thought he was really brave.

ꨄ︎. And you hate to admit that his stupid pick-up line (which didn't even seem like a pick-up line!) actually worked and he got your number. (And he would be so smug and proud about this fact for the rest of his life.)

ꨄ︎. You two talked for a few months before making anything official, and then you waited about a year or two before you two even thought about moving in together. Even so, by 6 months of dating you basically lived in Rhonda; Your stuff littered his home, you had your own set of clothes there, your own toothbrush, and even your own house slippers. Then when you moved in, it felt natural. It felt like this was where you were always meant to end up and somehow the planets aligned. And for some reason JD never noticed the fact you brought in an electric guitar, which also sat in your shared closet. Sometimes you wonder if he's just stupid or a little blind, because he's also seen your play.

ꨄ︎. Either way, one day when he was hoisting his brothers over (after the whole Floyd situation got resolved, and god you were kind of glad you were staying with friends during all of that; not because you didn't like his brothers but because you didn't think you could handle meeting his family during that whole situation.) when they heard you playing your guitar in the bedroom. You weren't doing anything fancy, mostly tuning the guitar and making sure the strings didn't need to be replaced. But, of course, that always had to include one of your most iconic guitar riffs from a song about fighting your crushing mentality during the lowest part of your career. "Holy shit dude, I didn't know your lover listened to (Y/N)!" Branch would be the first to comment, being the most diverse music listener in the family. Floyd, who had been distracted by the riff, perked up at the conversation and nodded in agreement. JD only gave them a confused look, leaning against his kitchen counter, "Dude, my lover is (Y/N)?" And JD wasn't sure what to expect, but it wasn't all four of his brothers stopping and staring at him completely baffled. Mostly Floyd and Branch, who soon yelled a rather loud, "WHAT?!" "What?!" Which only confused JD more.

ꨄ︎. You hadn't met JD's family before this point, but you've heard all about them; Not only from JD, when he told you about his band days, and when you heard them around the trailer when they would come over. Usually you stayed in the bedroom, not to be rude yet to just let JD have his time with his brothers. Yet, you couldn't understand what all the yelling was about, "Yo, Que te pasa? Why the hell are you guys yelling?" You would ask, poking your head out of the door to the bedroom. Your expression tired, your hair messier, yet you could care less at this moment; You were sure JD's brothers wouldn't mind, they would see you worse later on since you were planning to stay with that big doofus. "Oh my god-" You flinched when Floyd dropped the cup he was holding, his jaw dropping upon seeing you; And honestly, for a second, you forgot you used to be a big artist. "John Dory," You started, startled by the reactions his brothers were giving, "Vas a decirme lo que esta pasando ahora mismo."

ꨄ︎. JD is always a little intimidated when you speak Spanish, mostly because his Grandma used to scold him and his brothers in Spanish. So he only explained (rather quickly) how his brothers had heard you tuning your guitar in the bedroom and how they just got weird. And that's when Branch defended himself, along with Floyd, how JD never told them that you were his lover! "And what's it to you that I love your brother?" You shot back quick and snappy, crossing your arms as you shot a glare their way. You weren't above throwing hands with JD's brothers. Floyd noticed the way JD glanced away, sipping his coffee. He was quick to stand up, placing a hand on Branch's shoulder to calm him, before explaining the whole situation to you better; Saying how Branch and Floyd were just big fans of your music and they didn't realize that you were with JD, because no matter how much JD spoke about you he never told them that you were his lover.

ꨄ︎. "Oh, Mierda lo siento." God, this made things a little awkward, "I thought you were about to be one of those horrible step-siblings that didn't like his brother's lover for some dumb reason like my hair." "What? No!-" "No, yeah, I see that now. My bad, really sorry." You mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck, "JD can be really, really dense sometimes, shut it John Dory!," You pointed a finger at JD before he could make a peep in protest about your slight insult, but it was made out of full love. "Let's start over, hi I'm (Y/n) and it's really nice to meet you."

ꨄ︎. Safe to say, JD forgot to tell his brothers that he was dating an old sensational artist...and kind of forgot you were one and was very shocked to realize this! Furthermore, you were a little flabbergasted when he revealed that some of BroZone's songs were influenced by your music. You would stare at JD after he confessed such a large secret, "Wow... that's a big insult." You mumbled sarcastically under your breath. "EXCUSE ME?!" But you guessed JD missed the sarcasm. "I'm being sarcastic, love. That's kind of sweet." Playfully rolling your eyes, you pressed a kiss into JD's cheek before turning back to his brothers. You crossed your legs, rested your elbow against your knee, and held your face in your hands. "Now about you four, how about we get to actually know each other. I'm planning to remain in this family after all..."

ꨄ︎. Safe to say that JD is wifing/husbanding/etc. you up really quick.

ꨄ︎. He still brags about how he first got your number and how he managed to 'snatch you up' before anyone else could. You told him he's too old to use new lingo and to stop, lovingly of course as you didn't want your 'husband' to embarrass himself. He melted hearing you call him husband before getting a bigger ego boost; And you had fun watching him terrorize his siblings while his ego was so inflated. You even jokingly did the whole 'I'm watching you' eyes to one of his brothers (Clay) as a silent threat that this is how you were always going to hand JD off to them like. He gave you the biggest (playful) stink eye ever. Yeah, you're going to fit right into this family.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#john dory headcanons #john dory x reader #trolls x reader #brozone x reader #trolls band together #john dory trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls fandom #trolls dreamworks #brozone #trolls 3 #john dory #floyd trolls #clay trolls #branch trolls #branch #trolls floyd

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wellnoe · 2 years

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This is aperture au: an AU made up by Will (@boo-cool-robot, who did most of the plot and writing) and me (visuals) where Magneto takes a teen Scott in before Xavier, and Scott’s subsequent radicalization causes him to undergo a schism with x-men leader/lover jean after he eventually joins the team. Because if you really love characters, you just want them to have an ideological divorce!

The au is named after the code-name scott is given by magneto, which he returns to after the events of this comic (Aperture–like an opening for light to pass through, a focus in a lens.)

[Image description: Full color comic. Whole comic has a layout where each page has 3 columns. Jean is in the left column, and scott is in the right.

Page 1

Panel 1: Scott and Jean explore a grim, industrial, apparently abandoned basement lab. Jean inspects a peeled back vent cover. Scott bends down to open a filing cabinet drawer. Jean: "This is too clean to have been opened by a crowbar. Almost looks like how I would have used my TK a few years ago."

2: Scott leans back, back of his fist to his mouth in shock. He says: "Marvel Girl, you need to see this. Use my eyes. Please."

3: Jean turns, using her telepathy to look at the file Scott has found. Her telepathic eyes see what he sees. There is a Polaroid of young Scott and Alex. Alex smiles at the camera, while Scott holds his brother and glances away. Alex's file describes him as 'Yearly tag and release'.

The other page in the file has a letterhead reading “Home for Foundlings” and a logo depicting an abstract parent and child, forming a red diamond shape. Cut-off text reads, “Summers, Scott/Seong-Mi/S-...Impaired expressive speech and sound sensitivity worsened after 3 days of social ostracism from peers…electroconvulsion. Energy generation potential unaffected. Continued social impairment, likely auti…”

Scott has already turned toward a door, frowning.

4: Jean puts a comforting hand on Scott’s shoulder while he turns away from her. Scott (Telepathically): "I used to remember having a brother. He told me I was just confused, that I’d imagined him." Jean (Telepathically): "Who told you that?" Scott reaches to open the door. Scott (Out loud): "I don’t know, it was all…"

5: Scott, quietly: "Sinister."

They have stepped through into the next room, where Mister Sinister’s silhouette looms in the foreground, breaking the barriers between the three columns. Jean puts her arm out in front of Scott to shield him. Scott has shrunk in on himself.

Page 2:

Panel 1: Scott has his arms crossed. Jean, glowing with telepathy, puts a hand next to Mister Sinister’s head where he lies between scott and jean. Jean: "He can’t hear us. He’s in some kind of psionic trance. His body is here, but his mind is on the Astral Plane."

2: Scott: "So he’s vulnerable." Jean is startled: " What?" Scott: "We could end him here. Before he gets to-- anyone else. Before he gets to Alex again."

3: Jean’s telepathy flares, she is confused, but stubborn. Jean: "We’re X-Men, we can’t just kill someone defenseless. We won’t get anything out of him if he’s dead." Scott faces her, angry and disbelieving. Scott: "You really think if you [Telepathically: implicate, integrate] ask him, he’ll say anything that those files out there don’t?"

A figure approaches through the open doorway, obscured by Jean and Scott’s world bubbles.

4: Jean’s telepathy flare is the strongest yet. She is hurt, beseeching. she says: "The Professor taught us to give people chances. He gave you a chance when you joined the team." Scott is quietly angry. Scott: "Maybe if he were smarter, he wouldn’t have. You wouldn’t–..." Jean: "Are you saying you shouldn’t be here with me?"

The figure gets closer, raising a board to her shoulder.

5: The figure is revealed to be madelyne pryor, wearing the marvel girl dress, as she swings a board at Sinister’s head. She hits him with a “KRAK”. Telepathy flares out from Sinister’s form and from the panel as he’s hit. Jean and Scott watch her, Jean’s mouth open in shock, her telepathic eyes watching from Scott's eyes as well, while Scott looks untethered.

Page 3: Mads is in the middle column.

Panel 1: Jean and Scott reach their hands out towards Mads. Mads has her hands up in front of her. They are all frozen in place. Scott [Telepathically]: "Who is she?"

Mads [TP]: "I can hear them."

Jean [TP]: "She looks like me." Mads [TP]: "I was supposed to be her."

Scott [TP]: "She killed him. That could have been Jean." Jean [TP]: "Scott thinks it should have been me."

2: Mads flees past Scott, who is still frozen. Jean turns as Mads runs, half reaching out toward her. Mads [TP]: "I can’t be her. I can’t be here." The thoughts become disjointed, unattached from the people who are thinking them, hanging in the air of the room.

3: Scott runs after Mads. The unattached thoughts begin to fill the space between him and Jean: "I can’t be her, That could have been me, I can’t be here". Jean watches Scott, frozen in place, and starts to cry. Telepathic energy comes off her in waves. Scott [TP]: "That could have been Jean."

"I can't be here" repeats until it goes through the bottom of the panel and into the next panel.

4: Jean is still frozen, crying. Her hands are pressed to her head as she is crowded by the telepathic thought bubbles surrounding her. She gets stuck on bubbles repeating over and over:

"I can’t be here, I can’t be here, I can’t be here."

Page 4:

Panel 1: Jean is still surrounded by thought bubbles. She reaches into the middle pane and tears a black rip through it, telepathically and with her hands. Her head and hands flare with telepathy. The edges of the rip burn like fire. She is still crying, angry.

2: Thought bubbles disappear. Jean’s head is snapped back by the force of telepathic feedback. The black rip spreads wider, telepathic flame at edges, continuous with the previous panel.Scott, chasing Mads outside the lab, trips forward. Both Jean and Scott are losing control of their bodies, falling.

3: Jean and Scott both fall to the ground, unconscious, as the rip in the page spreads wider.

4: Black/end id]

#scott summers #jean grey #x men #boo-cool-robot #long post #my art #w.me #this took so long to do but it turned out good i think! the au is very fun

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blerb-f1 · 8 months

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"The Future" - Sebastian Vettel x reader

The news truly shocked me and compelled me to write this.

Lewis Hamilton is a side character in this.

not proofread i dont have the mental capacity rn

This fic also is kinda part of a series, but it can stand on it's own! For more, view my masterlist.

-------

“Have you considered it at least?”

A fragmented voice sounding through a tin-like phone speaker asked with a certain pressure behind it. The kind of pressure you’d only hear from people who wanted something. Something important.

Sebastian eyed the phone hesitantly, placing it on the windowsill while holding his watering can. Little droplets sliding down it’s side as he attempted to water his dried pot of basil - traveling was never something that helped in plantkeeping, not when you’d spend half the year in random hotels somewhere in the world.

He did not feel the need to return to the circus known as Formula 1, having enjoyed his time there but entirely content with retirement. Opposed to some of the others, he thought, he knew when to quit. No longer circling the biggest cities on earth but the supermarket parking lot in hopes of finding an empty spot. More importantly, waking up in his own bed for 7/7 days a week was a major joy to him, a feeling he didn’t feel like giving up.

“You know as well as i do, that we need an experienced driver. George’s good but… He just can’t give us the direction needed.” Toto sounded quite serious at that moment - Lewis deciding to leave must have hurt him badly, considering him approaching Sebastian.

“Also… I just want someone i can trust to be around me”

Looking up in surprise, Seb almost dropped the watering can on the floor. Lewis leaving had REALLY hurt him.

“I’ve been thinking about retiring from F1 now. But they’d probably cancel F1 Academy without me around. Force Susie into Submission. I don’t want that. Fuck no.”

“Toto, I-” Sebastian started speaking, plucking the dead leaves from his pot of basil. “I like life. I love peaceful mornings.”

Silence. The phone speaker didn’t echo out for a few moments.

“What would you say, if i told you we had a championship winning car?”

—-----------------------------------------------

“You really agree to it?” Sebastian asked, Surprise lingering on his voice.

“Of course i do, i’ve seen you thirst for racing while you yourself didn’t. I was with you from the beginning till the end of your career, don’t you think i’d be able to read you by now?” Y/N answered him, their eyebrows pulled together in a mild emotion.

“But there’s a catch.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be your race engineer. Like i’ve always been”

“Huh?” Seb asked again, this time even more surprised than before. Y/N nodded seriously. “I can’t see you race with another Engineer at your side. It feels wrong.”

The man man pondered for a moment, his brain racking. “You’re right. I’ll talk to Toto.”

A week later, Mercedes made an announcement. For the 2025 season, Bono would be moving to the lead Race Engineer position, not being directly responsible for a single racer. The community was confused, unsure of what was happening. Would they be promoting a rookie racer and engineer to grow their youth? Would they be getting a driver and engineer paring from another team?

Twitter and Reddit Artists were working hard, creating shitpost after shitpost, pundits podcast over podcast as the season progressed, trying to figure out who’d be the next racer.

Meanwhile Sebastian and Y/N were busy in their own ways. Practicing their communication again, the driver getting physically fit and in shape again. Moreso than he had been during his time at Aston Martin. This was going to be serious - no more lazing around. Go hard or go home.

Y/N worked with Bono - the man they used to work against- to get used to the Mercedes way of communication. It was very difficult, more strict compared to the free Red Bull. More lenient compared to the crazy Ferrari. More rule governed, compared to Aston Martin. Peter Bonnington was surprised in his own way, understanding why L/N and Vettel were the scary Duo they had been all this time. They had been a team since 2008, their shared time rivaling his and Lewis. Lewis- that was a mental direction he shouldn’t go to. Mercedes would need to win the championship, no time to waste on stupid thoughts.

As the season progressed and Fans grew mad with their speculation, Mercedes made a post on their instagram. It was a Photo of one of the trees outside their HQ, with a little bee fluttering around it. One single Description. “We love nature”.

Fans went wild with speculation, thinking, planning, shitposting.

Then one day, two weeks away from the season beginning, the news fell. Two announcement posts in a single day. Y/N L/N heading to Mercedes as Race Engineer, Sebastian Vettel as driver. Mercedes returning back to their silver arrows livery.

The community went wild, the thing they’d never expected had happened.

Lewis meanwhile, was downtrodden. He had expected this move to work out differently. Ferrari clearly designated Charles as Driver 1, not adjusting around him like he’d gotten used to. Their bad race engineering got him into trouble many times. Seeing this news almost broke him. They had replaced him with his friend, who didn’t speak a single word of this? Shame on him.

Shortly after, a Video went online on the Mercedes Account. Sebastian and Y/N were seated among the many championships belonging to Mercedes, clad in white teamgear. Their eyes were determined, telling people they hadn’t arrived to play. As Sebastian took of his hat, people noticed the change. His own cold smile had returned, the one that caused people to call him a smiling assassin. His locks short again, like when he’d won his own championships. Y/N had assimilated, they’re hair bleached and dyed into a silvery colour.

Fans once again were shocked, they truly hadn’t expected Sebastian to return like this. More akin to the way Schumacher returned but apparently that was not the choice Vettel made - he was here to win, not for the participation trophy.

As the season opener in Australia rolled around, many eyes were glued to the screen. Y/N was sitting on a bicycle along with their driver on his own, passing over the track. Taking in texture, dirt and heat. The media approached them back in the pits, shoving microphones in their face. Y/N just grunted, showing the media a literal middle finger before dipping into the Mercedes pitwall.

This was the same paring as back in 2011, ready to fight. Qualifying went well, dangerously well. It was as if Seb hadn’t left F1. But not the 2022 Version, the 2012 Version. His defense was ruthless, his attacks even more. He utilised all the skills he had honed over years, even the smallest tricks Michael had once explained to him to gain a faster time. As he crossed over the finish line in first position, Martin Brundle screamed out loud. Nobody had expected this, nobody thought he could win a race again. Toto was jumping in the Mercedes Garage, Y/N jumping along and almost throwing the headset down.

Sebastian on the radio was back to his own, singing, cheering and screaming absolute gibberish. Pulling into Parc Fermé, he was surprised at having the camera and microphone pushed into his face. This new way of doing things was very unusual to him.

“So Sebastian, tell us how you’re feeling.”

“I feel like i belong” was his simple answer, pushing the camera out of his face as he headed to get weighed. He took a short look at the staircase leading up to the podium. It had been a while since he had last set foot onto them. They were almost scary but he knew, he was secure. A hand placed on his shoulder, one that he had felt there for many years. Y/N was there to get the constructors trophy, truely the only appropriate person today.

The clothing wasn’t the same as in the past, but the energy was. People were cheering, even more were booing. Not wanting another Era of Mercedes Dominance. Booing however, did nothing to deter Sebastian or Y/N. After all, they were the original Red Bull Villains.

Ignoring the rules, they let the champagne down to the team to enjoy. This was their first victory after a few years as well, they deserved it after sacrificing two seasons to get this car made.

Then, a lone camera man captured an almost painfull view. Lewis Hamilton, clad in the strong Ferrari Red standing aside, looking up to the silver team with sadness and longing in his eyes. This hurt him, it truly did. Tears were welling in his eyes as the camera man moved away tactfully, instead capturing the celebrating couple instead.

The season progressed, a grandslam in all eyes. Win after win - not a single Race lost. As the Final in Bahrain rolled around and Sebastian collected his fifth driver’s championship, he knew he had found a new family and home. Y/N and him were celebrating wildly, the basil on the windowsill long forgotten among the glory and the parties, the heat and the energy.

It was that day, that a man entered a plane back to his new home in Italy. Eying the still not fully unpacked furniture, he settled onto a lightly dusted chair. Had leaving Mercedes truly not been the right decision? Lewis looked at a photobook a fan had gotten him. From winning with McLaren, the years with Nico and Valtteri, Mercedes had truly grown into his home and Family. What had made him leave them then? Was it the thirst for glory? Had he not enjoyed the atmosphere anymore? He felt conflicted. People had told him that Ferrari would break him. He didn’t want to believe them, but they were right. The red team had once again done what it did best. Destroy someone. Lewis looked back on Sebastian’s Face, remembering his defeated expression after the years of fighting with the red team. Of getting recognition for Kimi as well. Of standing up against Charles.

Lewis considered his options, putting his own life on the golden scale. Then, he made a decision. Opening instagram, he made a single post. Cuddling Roscoe, the description was simple, something nostalgic almost. “I hereby announce my retirement from Formula 1”

#blerb writes #f1 x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #lewis hamilton #nonbinary!reader

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voidcat · 1 month

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characters: you/imaushi wakasa, sano shinichiro...

a/n: angst lol. strangers to friends. themes of fwb but nothing explicit. switch of perspective. mcd obviously,,

as i said in this post the loose explanatio/beginning of an idea i had that i liked ALOT but couldnt write due to various reasons (esp lck of time) (open post for a lil further stuff for reader x wakasa ig,,,)

attending the same classes as shinichiro sano... you've heard of him alright but that's about it. a nice face to look at perhaps but a little odd. not someone you'd interact with occasionally, nor someone you'd remember in particular-

until you're paired with him for an assignment. it'll help build bonds between the lot of you! the teacher announces and everyone groans in unision

you shoot your new partner to be a look from where you stand and turn back to your notebook. the ring bells but by the time you can get up adn gather your stuff, sano is nowhere to be seen

it takes you hours to find him. and at possibily one of the worst times too.

you heard of the rumors about fights and deliquents but you didn't expect yourself to run into one. youre careful, you live a peaceful life, you avoid trouble, always keep a clean name and all-

the people around all battered and beaten up, covered in bruises, cuts and maybe blood, looking hungry, unsatisfied, maddened– and you're in the center of it all.

footsteps approach you, strong, stern, taking their time and all- you hold it in you to not turn for a look. wait for them to show their face at your feet, dont give them the satisfaction nor even the slightest sign of weakness.

a man with blond hair and a pretty face, long lashes and all, stands before you, looking almost a little amused. "what's a pretty little thing doin' here all by themselv-" "where's sano" you cut him midsentence.

the man looks baffled, a little offensed even. soon joined by a second figure a lot taller than him, they both look at you with hostility and a hint of curiosity.

who cares, you scoff internally, whatever intimidation they're going for, you won't fall for it.

the other man raises a brow at the way you've mentioned sano. shit, you do hope this was not the wrong place, or whatever fight went down there, they must've won... right?

"and who is asking?" the blond speaks up again, sounding a little annoyed now. "you know, we don't allow passes to every pretty thi-" "eeeew" you drag the word and scretch like a gum, making sure to put on a face. "none of your business actually." you add on, placing your hand against a hip.

"why, you-" before he can follow up with whatever's on his tongue, a jolly greeting from behind interrupts him, cutting through the air. you can notice how the idle folks around suddenly tense up, and for the two man before you, shoulders dropped, bodies relaxing...

soon sano emerges, with his hair put up and stylized, nothing like the man in your class, a deliquent out of a shitty teen's magazine you'd say so.

exhanging greets with the two men and doing a special handshake for only them to know, he looks in the mood, just his face a little bruised up and some blood on his clothes.

so that's probably why he skips school some days, you muse.

he notices you a little later.

"oh!" mouth formed into an 'o' shape, you can see his surprise written all over but he is quick to disperse all that." greeting you with your surname formally, he reaches out a hand, then brings it up upon noticing the splatters of blood and takes it back with a sheepish smile.

"what brings you there?" he asks, never losing a bit of his joy that contradicts the entire atmosphere.

"our assignment." you say curtly and receive another sound of surprise from him. he looks apolegitic at the very least, you think.

"well.. uh-" he scratches the back of his head, casting a glance around, you wait to see where the stammering will go.

"how would you wanna do it then?" he asks more for you than himself, to ease you probably, you can only assume.

another joins their little group, keeping silent and watching what's going on. you relly, really should get going, you decide after giving a quick look around. "we can go over the details at an appropirate time later."

"alright then!" he says, never missing a beat from his energy. it's unbelievable, you think. "should we... ah-" he pauses, "exchange numbers to keep in touch then?" he asks, and he means well, you can tell just from the way he looks and talks, but the rest? you're not exactly dying to say out loud your contact information. especially not with that blond anywhere within a 20 meter radius.

"here." you say, reaching out your hand to reveal your phone. "i'm not announcing my number for a bunch of weirdo, self proclaimed deliquents to hear."

your words take him by shock but he breaks into a snort right after. the two men exchange a glance and a thug at their lips as well. the blond however does not look once pleased with your words.

or you at all.

you begin to come and go to their place often, the assignment builds up slow but steady and the guys seem reasonable enough after actually sitting down and hearing each other out. shin looks happy with the development too, says you have brought a change but you'd disagree. he is the light and sun and the beating heart of this place and wherever he goes, they follow, absolute devotion and belief in him, as a person, for his mind and for his heart.

you can see why, you can feel it too. once you begin to spend your time with shinichiro sano, all the rumors and speculations you've heard up until then are gone. assignment be damned, you can tell when a friendship begins to bloom and with shin- it happens at such a pace, you find yourself a little afraid.

the assignment ends, presentation and all, with flying colors you pass and decide to celebrate it out, with the rest joining as well.

a karaoke bar is all fun and games until night rolls out. it has gotten late but shin offers to walk you home; keizo and takeumi dragging a very drunk and messed up wakasa. everyone bids one another goodbye- save for wakasa... and you almost believe youhave seen a hint of sadness in their eyes as they bump their fists against yours. if you didn't know any better, you'd ever go as far as to say they'll miss you around.

a day passes, another and another... much to their relief and encouragement, you stick around.

not within the vicinity on the days big fights go around but definitely dropping by to hang out, fool around and whatnot. it's now your laughter mixed with shin's that fills the air, and everyone seems joyful and happy most of the time- save for imaushi wakasa.

for reasons unbeknowst to you, he remains hostile, rude, and on and up about sending your way stupid lines like he did the first time. most of the time you ignore him, which annoys him further– the scene alone brings a smile to your lips, the smirk of a vixen, you even overhear him once, yelling to keizo about you are, sounding very much frustrated.

despite this is how the things begin and roll out, neither of you expect to grow close- closer than you'd have imagined.

yes, you and shin might be the sunshines, but you and wakasa? the two of you become inseperable. you even hear some people mumble how they fear the two of you looking down at them, gazes that burn holes through their skulls, see into their souls... the two of you could make a power couple- if you were one at all.

there is the heat, there is the tension. you comb through his hair with a gentle touch that has wakasa melting in your hold, yet the second someone dares to imply anything more, you shoot them a glance so heavy, it'd crash their lungs.

wakasa hopes, in the end, that perhaps there is an end to it that is happy, that is hopeful. he knows there is no making up for the way he treated you but you were not the kindest toward him either, so it makes you equals, no?

so he sings sappy songs at karaoke whilst tipsy, so any accusation he can brush off as the effect of the booze, but hopes you caught how he looked at you. so he touches you as soft as you do him, trying to mimic your kindness, an attempt at how love, in the physical, in action should be.

he doesn't know any better, why should he? why should anyone to begin with?

it scares him how natural it is for shin and you. some days he finds himself envying the two of you even, would things be any different were you to attend the same school as the two of you? oh what wouldn't he do to be graced with your smiles and giggles all day every day, having you look at him as you rest your cheek against your palm–

he aches for something a tad normal sometimes, at the very least with you. would the two of you ever cross paths were it not for shin? the thought scares him and he feels like an asshole for envying his friend like this, desperate for anything that would come from your hands.

but at the end of the day, it is himself you seek out. his arms that you allow around your person, his lips on you, devoring you, it's wakasa that consumes you wholly and the thought brings a wave of comfort at the very least.

then the entire world collapses down in the span of 24 hours.

shinichiro dies.

almost 24 hours have passed since his death and wakasa still cannot find it in him to return to reality yet.

then like an angel amidst the chaos, you reemerge from the fog, from smoke. it doesn't take a genius to figure out something is wrong.

"waka," you call out to him, sound laced with something he cannot quite pinpoint. shutting his eyes completely, he sits in the same spot for a moment, all the doubts, every single negative, twisted and fucked up thng he has been holding at bay til now so close to breaking out.

you speak, but he does not hear the words.

not pass the 'i am leaving'

#ALRGHT THIS WAS THE THING I WAS TALKING ABT #idk if ill ever finish th #s as a full fic i was gonna make this more of a blurb turns out i am UNABLE TO-#long story short: u and shin as v close friends and u and waka as fwb #u are leaving bc ur family receives a promotion plus towns getting unsafer so its all just a coincidence that ur family #lets u know of the moving cities plan right as the day shin died #but to wakasa it just confirms his suspicions aka u always loved shin at a deeper level and now w him gone #there is nothing left in this town worth staying for. yes he is an idiot (in love)#as my og post said FEEL FREE TO TINKER WTHE IDEA AND GO FURTHER W IT idk maybe on the waka focused bits like #just banter n probs a lot of smut overall but as longas u give me credit in a/n i am fine w it.#in my og idea the two of u first sleep tgt bc its ur turn to drag his ass back to his place after karaoke uh wait ill probs just #edt this post n include links or smt later #wakasa imaushi #tokyo revengers #wakasa x reader #imaushi wakasa x reader #wakasa imaushi x reader #tokrev x reader #tokrev x you #voidcat.wakasa thing #wakasa x you #imaushi wakasa #tokyo revengers x reader #Tokyo revengers x you #shinichiro sano #shinichiro sano x reader

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cherry-blossom-20 · 6 months

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hey! i have a request for rafe x reader! i was thinking of enemies to lovers with rafe but with john b’s sister. like rafe isn’t that bad like in the show but he still has some problems, but then he’ll grow a soft spot for the reader. ofc only if you’re willing to write this.

I have always heard the rumors about Rafe Cameron – the bad boy from Outer Banks with the reputation that preceded him. Fighting, drinking, drugs, you name it. My brother John B, and my other friends, JJ, Pope, Kiara, and Rafes very own sister Sarah, all seem to have a history with him, one filled with tension, and animosity. I have never had a bad interaction with Rafe, but I chose my brother's side in the feud, listening to the rumors and avoiding Rafe at all costs.

JJ's mischievous grin lit up his face. "Hey, guys, have you heard about the boneyard party happening tonight? It's gonna be epic!"

Pope raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his voice. “I dont know guys, I have to work in the morning with my dad and if I dont show up again, I think he might actually kill me. “

Kiara, up for an adventure, leaned in eagerly. "Come on, Pope, where's your sense of fun? It's just a party! Count me in."

Sarah, usually the voice of reason in the group, bit her lip, torn between caution and curiosity. "I don't know, guys. What if something goes wrong? I know Rafe and the rest of the Kook possy are going."

John B, the leader, chimed in with a grin. "Aw, don't be such a buzzkill, Sarah. We can handle anything that comes our way. Let's make tonight legendary!"

feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension, I hesitated before finally nodding. "Okay, let's go. But we stick together, no matter what, deal?"

The group exchanged determined nods, a sense of camaraderie and adventure binding them together. And as we made our way out of the chateu, the promise of the boneyard party looming ahead.

The night air was cool and salty as we made out way through the darkened beach towards the party. The distant sound of crashing waves provided a soundtrack to our journey, adding an ambiance to the scene full of Pogues, Kooks and Tourons.

As we approached the flickering bonfire at the heart of the party, shadows danced around the sandy clearing, casting strange shapes on the worn-out boats and debris scattered around. The glow of the fire illuminated the faces of the partygoers, their laughter mingling with the crackle of flames.

I felt a mix of excitement and trepidation as we stepped into the heart of the boneyard party, the air thick with anticipation and mystery. Sarah clutched her arm, a silent gesture of support, while Kiara and Pope exchanged curious glances, taking in the scene with a mix of awe and wariness.

JJ, always the first to dive into the unknown, let out a low whistle. "This place is wild, I love it!" His voice carried over the sounds of the party, drawing the attention of a few revelers who nodded in agreement.

John B, the protector, threw his arm over my shoulder while scanning the crowd with a watchful eye, ensuring that they stayed close together amidst the throng of people. "Let's stick together, guys. I dont want anything happening to anyone" he murmured, his voice barely audible over the din of the party.

As we weaved through the crowd at the boneyard party, my eyes scanning the faces illuminated by the flickering bonfire, a familiar figure caught my attention. Rafe Cameron stood at the edge of the firelight, his posture relaxed yet commanding, a hint of mystery in his gaze as he surveyed the party.

Kiara nudged me, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Look who decided to show up," she whispered, nodding towards Rafe. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, a mix of nerves and curiosity swirling in my chest.

As we continued to move through the party, another familiar face came into view. Kielce, Rafe's best friend, stood nearby, his easy smile contrasting with Rafe's more enigmatic presence. The dynamic duo seemed to exude an aura of confidence and danger that drew the attention of the partygoers around them.

Pope's jaw clenched at the sight of Rafe, a hint of tension in his stance as he exchanged a wary glance with JJ. "Those Kooks are always up to no good," Pope muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with unease.

And just as we were about to turn away and walk in a different direction, a voice cut through the chatter of the party. "Well, well, well, looks like some Pogues decided to crash our little shindig." Topper, Rafe's friend, swaggered towards them with a smirk, his presence casting a shadow over the group.

My heart raced as the tension in the air thickened, the unexpected reunion with Rafe, Kielce, and Topper adding a new layer of complexity to the already charged atmosphere of the boneyard party.

I met Rafe's gaze, his piercing blue eyes looking right into mine. My voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my chest. "We're just here to have a good time, same as everyone else."

John B stepped forward pushing me behind him, his protective instincts kicking in. "We don't want any trouble. Just let us enjoy the party."

Rafe's expression softened slightly as he glanced at me. "I'm not here to cause problems either. Just trying to have a good time with my friends."

JJ eyed the Kooks warily, while blowing out a puff of smoke from the blunt he just lit, his voice cautious. "You guys have a habit of stirring up trouble wherever you go. We'd rather avoid any drama tonight."

Kiara, always one to diffuse tension with humor, flashed a grin at Topper. "Come on, Topper, can't we all just get along for one night? It's a party, after all."

Sarah, sensing the underlying tension, spoke up softly. "Let's just enjoy the night and try to stay out of each other's way. No need for things to escalate."

As we walked away from the conversation with Rafe, Kelce, and Topper, the air crackled with unspoken tension. We found a spot closer to the beach and settled down, the sound of waves a comforting backdrop.

I shifted uncomfortably, feeling Rafe's intense gaze on her. The rest of the group noticed, their expressions darkening. John B, clenched his jaw, his eyes flashing with anger.

"Rafe needs to back off," Kiara muttered, her voice low but firm.

"Yeah, whats his problem now?l," Jj added, his brows furrowed in annoyance.

Sarah sighed. "Let's just enjoy our time here. Ignore him. We won't let him ruin it for us."

We huddled closer, our laughter mingling with the sound of the ocean, a shield against the unwelcome presence of Rafe.

We lounged along the beach, the sound of crashing waves mingling with our laughter and banter. Empty cups that were full of beer on the ground and the blunt JJ lit up is passed around as we enjoyed the salty breeze and the warmth of the setting sun.

As the evening settled in, I felt a sudden thirst creeping up, I looked in my cup noticing it was empty. Standing up, brushing sand off my shorts, "I'm gonna grab a drink. I'll be right back."

John B, Kiara, Jj, Pope, and Sarah all looked up, concern flickering in their eyes.

John B offered, "I'll come with you." starting to stand up from his place in the sand.

Kiara chimed in, "Yeah, we can all go together."

I shook my head, a small smile playing on my lips. "It's okay, guys. I'll just be quick. Stay here, ill be right back."

With a chorus of "Be careful" and "Don't take too long," the group watched as I made my way towards the Keg, the fading sunlight casting a warm glow around me. They settled back into their circle, keeping an eye on my retreating figure as I disappeared into the crowd.

As I waited at the keg, a drunk guy approached me, his slurred words and wandering hands making my skin crawl.

"Hey, beautiful, why are you alone?" one of them slurred, his breath reeking of alcohol.

My discomfort grew as I tried to push him away. "I'm not interested. Please leave me alone."

But the guy persisted, his grip tightening on my arm. Panic rising, I looked over to friends, but they were engrossed in their own conversations, oblivious to my distress.

Just when I felt trapped, Rafe appeared beside me, his presence commanding. Without a word, he pushed the guy away, his expression fierce. The drunk guy stumbled back, surprised by the sudden intervention.

"Back off, man," Rafe growled, his voice low and menacing.

I felt a surge of relief as Rafe stood protectively by her side, his actions speaking louder than words.

Drunk Man: "Hey, dude, what's your problem? She was just having some fun."

Rafe: "Fun? Putting your hands on someone without their consent is not fun. Leave her alone."

Drunk Man: *laughs* "Who do you think you are, man? She's fair game at a place like this."

Rafe: *steps closer, his jaw clenched* "No one is 'fair game.' You need to learn some respect."

Drunk Man: *backs off slightly, sensing Rafe's intensity* "Fine, man, whatever. She's not worth the trouble."

Rafe: *fixes him with a steely gaze* "Remember this. No means no. Don't let me catch you bothering anyone else tonight, or Ill escourt you off the beach myself. Youre lucky I havent done it already."

The drunk man mumbles something unintelligible and stumbles away, leaving me alone with Rafe, grateful for Rafe's intervention. As the tension dissipates, I turn to him with a mix of relief and gratitude.

Y/N: "Thank you, Rafe. I really appreciate it."

Rafe: *offers a reassuring smile* "No problem. Just looking out for you."

Y/N: “Well im gonna head back before John B starts to worry, thanks again.”

As I started to make my way back from the Keg, a familiar figure fell into step beside her. Rafe's presence was unexpected but not unwelcome, his protective aura a comforting shield against the bustling crowd.

"I can walk you back to your friends," Rafe offered, his tone gentle yet firm.

I nodded gratefully, appreciating the gesture. As we approached the Pogues, I sensed the tension radiating from John B, Kiara, Jj, Pope, and Sarah. Their expressions hardened as they watched Rafe by my side.

John B's voice was sharp with concern as he demanded, "What's going on here?"

Rafe stepped forward, his hands held up in a placating gesture. "There was a situation at the keg. I just wanted to make sure she got back safely."

I quickly explained, "He helped me when a drunk guy wouldn't leave me alone. Rafe intervened, and I'm okay."

John B's anger softened into gratitude as he turned to Rafe, his voice sincere. "Thanks for looking out for her. We appreciate it."

The tension ebbed away as they realized Rafe's intentions were genuine. I felt a sense of relief as the Pogues thanked Rafe, without any issues. Rafe bid his goodbyes and walked back over to his group.

As the night drew to a close, we started to gather our belongings, heading toward the twinkie ready to head home. As I was getting in the van, Rafe approached, a nervous look in his eyes.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a moment?" Rafe asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Curious, I nodded and followed Rafe a few steps away from the group. The others exchanged knowing glances, a spark of anticipation in the air.

Rafe took a deep breath before blurting out, "I was wondering if you'd like to go out on a date with me sometime?"

My surprise melted into a warm smile as I met Rafe's gaze. The night had been filled with unexpected twists, but this invitation felt like the perfect ending.

"I'd love to," I replied, my voice soft but filled with genuine interest.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed it! this is my first time writing anything like this.

and to the lovely person who requested this, I hope I meet your expectations!

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey imagine

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orqheuss · 10 months

Text

Snake Charmer

(Ominis Gaunt x F!Gorgon!Reader) Fluff? World building? Set up? Who knows tbh. It's a story.

Summary:

Ominis could hear her pulse quicken as she stilled. Everything else in the cramped space fell away, leaving just the two slytherin’s, each one with their own morose history that has been broadcasted for all the world to hear. Two peas in a pod— two sides to the same coin— two scales on the same snake. *** Why was everyone so interested in the new girl? Ominis Gaunt was about to find out.

Word count: 3.8k

AN: because I wanted to write a story about Ominis and a Gorgon falling in love

Ominis was sure he was going mad. In fact, he was positive— some point between the end of his fourth year and the beginning of his fifth, he had gone absolutely batty. That was the only logical conclusion to the fact that he was hearing voices at all hours of the day.

It started the day the new fifth year won in a duel against his best friend, Sebastian. The Defense Against the Dark Arts class was moving at the same pace it always did: introduction to the new spell, practice on a small object, practice on a larger, vaguely person shaped object, and then finally a duel between each pair of students to prove their mastery. This day, though, took a different turn than what the young blond was expecting. Ever since starting at Hogwarts, Sebastian Sallow was Ominis’ dueling partner; there was never any question about it. It became such a habit that no one dared approach the pair once Professor Hecat announced the beginnings of the school sanctioned battles— you would never see one Slytherin without the other. So, when Hecat decided to pair the new fifth year with his best friend, well, it could be seen quite plainly that Ominis was not happy about the matter.

As the duelists took their positions across from each other, the blond haired boy leaned against the nearest wall, a distinct look of annoyance turning down the corners of his lips and narrowing his eyebrows into a straight line. Most people would consider the look on his face a pout— not that anyone would ever dare at mentioning this to the boy. Ominis Gaunt did not pout, and he certainly did not scoff under his breath at the sound of his friend joking around with the new girl. What a preposterous idea. He wasn’t jealous, don’t be absurd.

Though, it was nice hearing Sebastian get knocked down a peg by someone who had never held a wand in her life up until that point.

Once the class was over, all Ominis wanted to do was slump himself into the Undercroft and take a well deserved nap. His head was pounding, and the near constant whispers of his classmates about the new girl were driving him up the wall. He couldn’t help but make snarky remarks in his head, quietly laughing to himself at the ridiculous questions his classmates were mumbling.

“Why do you think she wears that head scarf? I wonder what’s under there.”

Hair, probably.

“Did you hear her accent? Where do you think she’s from? Certainly not around here!”

Ten points to Ravenclaw for stating the obvious.

“Did you see how she was looking at Sallow? She just got here and already thinks she can take the most attractive boy in our year. The nerve!”

Sebastian has the emotional range of a teaspoon, but best of luck!

“How could you even tell where she was looking? I couldn’t see a thing through those glasses of hers! Why is she wearing shaders inside?”

Bold style choice, but alright. Not that he could really judge, of course.

“Do you think she’s blind like Gaunt? Great, another person I have to make sure I don’t trip over.”

That statement got his attention. Could she be blind like him? He didn’t hear any echolocation charm on her wand, nor did he sense a seeing eye animal or a cane around her. A very small part of him warmed slightly at the idea that he wasn’t alone in his struggles anymore. He craned his head more to the side, trying to catch more of the gossip as everyone began to file out of the classroom.

“No, she can’t be blind. It looks like she can get around just fine on her own— no charm blinking on her wand or anything. Still quite weird, though.”

Ominis’ shoulders sank minutely at the news, the warmth in his chest freezing over once again. He sighed to himself before pushing away from the wall, deciding to just let his body carry him to the Undercroft on autopilot while he stewed in his thoughts. Sebastian was off talking to the new girl, so he would likely not be joining him until well after his next round of Crossed Wands later that day. Normally he would join the boy, cheering him on from the sidelines with the rest of his fawning fangirl club, and he was about to turn in the direction of the clock tower when the brunette’s voice broke through the haze.

“Suppose I could interest you in some unsanctioned fun?”

Well, if his new best friend was going to be there, then he wouldn’t miss Ominis’ presence all that much.

Just as the blond had resigned himself to an afternoon of solitude, another voice came through the crowded musings of his classmates.

“Gods, I’m starving.”

A completely mundane statement, one that had likely been uttered by half of the class as they left, but something about the voice drew him in. It was low in tone, like they were trying to hide their voice instead of projecting it to their friends, and had a slight hiss to it just under the words like the person was speaking through a mouthful of fangs. Ominis paused in his steps just outside the doorway, his ear turned towards the classroom as he tried to find the voice again. All he found was silence and the tiny ticks of professor Hecat’s dark magic detectors.

Shaking his head, he leaned away from the door and made his way down the stairs, his mind puzzling through what just happened. He must have been imagining it, he thought to himself. The voice hardly sounded human, let alone familiar. Must have just been a trick of his mind, he had slept terribly the night before so it was logical he was just tired. Rounding the corner towards his secret alcove, Ominis stepped through the clockwork door to the Undercroft and began to climb down the winding staircase, hopeful that a bit more sleep would do him good.

Fortunately, he had a lovely nap on the chaise lounge he conjured. Rather unfortunately though, the voice persisted. Morning, noon, and night he heard that incessant hissing tone in his ears, each day getting louder and more bold with what it was saying. First it was small things, things that most people would think to themselves throughout a normal day.

“Where’s the bathroom in this place?” “My head itches.” “What I would give to take a nap right about now.”

Normal things. But then, the statements started to get a bit…odd.

“There’s something under my scale!” “He was rude, I want to bite him.” “I can hear a mouse somewhere. Can I eat it? Please?”

While Ominis was tired of hearing the random, grating voice slither through his ears at a constant rate, he was happy to report that he no longer thought he was going mad. The voice belonged to a snake— that much he was sure of. But, where was the snake? Did it know he could hear it? How was it somehow always in his vicinity?

That was the question that was currently keeping him up at night.

Everything culminated one faithful day when he next had Defense Against the Dark Arts. Today was lecture, and much like the rest of his classmates, he bemoaned having to sit and listen to professor Hecat go on and on about some unknown entity or creature that he could never encounter for the rest of his days. It wasn’t that she wasn’t a good teacher, far from it! But, much like any professor in the castle, she was not immune to the dreaded monotonous lecture voice.

Upon entering the classroom, the first thing Ominis heard was Hecat’s voice speaking in hushed tones to someone. He would never admit it outloud, but the boy was dreadfully nosy. Honing his ears in the direction of the whispering, he caught on to her tone first— caring, soft, gentle, words that normally wouldn’t be found within one hundred feet of the professor— then the tail end of her words.

“—if you are uncomfortable with today’s lesson, please know that you can leave at any time.”

An equally soft voice replied in turn, a hint of uncomfort lacing their words. “Thank you, professor. I appreciate the sentiment, but I will be fine. It is not the first time I have been a part of such a lecture.”

Ominis stilled in his seat, the hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention when he recognized the voice. It was the new girl again. Merlin, it seemed she had everyone wrapped around her little finger, even the formidable Dinah Hecat!

It wasn’t that he had a problem with the new fifth year, in fact she had been quite nice to him when they met in the common room, it was just that all the rumors surrounding her made her sound a bit big for her britches. First she beat Sebastian in a duel, something no one has done since he started going to Crossed Wands and honing his talent, then she invites him to Hogsmeade with her and suddenly a troll is hellbent on clobbering up the street? Not to mention all the other things Ominis had heard about: taking out Ashwinder camps in her spare time? Flying all over the sodding Scottish Highlands and getting into all kinds of trouble against the Ranrok Loyalists? Sneaking into the restricted section with Sebastian and earning him another bloody detention, because what, she batted her eyelashes at him and he folded like a cheap suit? Who was this girl, and why did trouble follow at her heels like a pack of hellhounds? No, Ominis didn’t have a problem with her, he was suspicious of her, and the fact that the voice started soon after she got here certainly didn’t help.

The blond sat back in his seat, arms crossed across his chest and a befuddled look clouding his expression as the professor took her spot at the front of the room, tapping her wand on the rickety old chalkboard and writing out the subject of the lecture for today.

“Today, class, we will be discussing Gorgons, another creature traditionally deemed mythological but in fact walks among us magic folk unseen. Though, they very rarely make the journey across the sea to our backyard.”

Ominis’ eyebrows narrowed more in confusion as he thought about Hecat’s words to the new girl. Why would she be uncomfortable with this lesson? What secret was she hiding that was related to Gorgons of all things? He tuned back into the lesson, hoping to answer some of his questions.

Professor Hecat paced around the room as she talked, taking strides up and down the lengths of desks and weaving through her collections of artifacts from her time as an Unspeakable.

“Gorgons, or ‘gorgos,’ meaning ‘fierce, terrible and grim’ in Greek, are inherently female creatures with snakes for hair and the ability to turn anyone who meets their gaze into stone. Many of you are likely familiar with the myth of Medusa, the only mortal Gorgon that was callously slayed by the Greecian hero, Perseus. But, there are two other Gorgons known in history: Stheno, the mighty or strong, and Euryale, the Far Springer.”

The room was bathed in silence as Hecat paused in her speech, giving the class time to take notes on the creatures. Ominis sat still, his mind awash with possibilities for why the new girl would need to be excused from this lesson. Her accent was Greek, that was for sure. Could she have a history with Gorgons? That wouldn’t make sense, though. Many students have had run-ins with the creatures discussed in DADA, but they were never offered to skip that lesson. So, why was the new girl so special?

A sharp, insistent sound shook the blond from his thought spiral, causing him to wince at the volume suddenly ricochetting in his ears. A terrible hiss filled the room, slithering throughout the encompassing space and echoing off the tall, vaulted cathedral ceiling. It was haunting, eerie, constant, like the creak of the floor in an abandoned house or a busted pipe in the middle of the night when you’re the only one home. A shiver ran up Ominis’ spine at the sound, trying desperately to block it out while also listening to those around him to see if they heard it too. He heard no whisperings, but with a quick flick of his wand, sparking the wood to life, he could see the silhouette of his classmates looking around like they were trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. Ominis relaxed slightly, relieved that he wasn’t the only one hearing the incessant hissing.

His relaxed posture only lasted for a moment as a voice suddenly cut through all the noise, low and dangerous like a rattlesnake's tail in the tall grass. It was similar to the snake he had been hearing, but different somehow— richer, more human sounding. Ominis’ heart stilled in his chest when he recognized the cadence, knowing it intimately from all the times he spoke it while living at home. Parseltongue.

“Be quiet. Everything is fine, no one is going to hurt us.”

At once, the hissing stopped, shrouding the room in a blanket of silence once again. Dread began to curl its way around Ominis’ chest at the understanding of what that meant— what that could mean for the future of Hogwarts in general.

Someone in the room was a parselmouth like him, and he would bet all of his galleons on it being the new girl.

But, what did she mean by “no one is going to hurt us?” Who was “us?”

The professor continued her lecture, drowning the never ending list of questions permeating in his mind that seemed to grow longer by the second.

“Gorgons are the children of Phorcys, a primordial sea god, and Ceto, a sea goddess, who happen to be brother and sister.”

A snicker came from the back of the classroom, followed by the voice of none other than Andrew Larson, the class’ resident moonmind. “Purebloods know all about that!”

Hecat leveled him with a glare, not an ounce of amusement present in her tone as she spoke. “Must you make that joke whenever we talk about Greek history? I dare say it wasn’t funny the first handful of times you’ve said it, Mister Larson.”

Ominis could almost see the embarrassment on Larson’s face when he stuttered his reply. “Um, n-no, professor. I j-just meant—”

“We all know what you meant.” She silenced him quickly, her smirk present in her voice. “Now, back to what I was saying. Phorcys and Ceto had a large family together, including the Graeae, the trio of elderly sisters that share an eye, Echidna, a being of half-human, half-snake, Ladon, a fearsome dragon who was tasked with guarding the golden apples of the Hesperides, and Scylla, a woman with dog-headed loins. Because of Ceto’s reputation for giving birth to terrors, each larger and more colorful than the last, she became known as the “mother of sea-monsters.” Ominis could feel Hecat’s eyes linger on him for a moment, her speech stilling slightly as she took in his deeply puzzled expression. “Of course, among those children were also the Gorgons.”

The aging professor continued, her steps ebbing and flowing around the classroom like a steady stream. “According to myth, Medusa did not begin life as a Gorgon. She was Ceto’s only mortal born child— human as any other babe. Some even say she may have been of magical nature, like all of you in this very room.”

The blond slytherin heard Hecat’s steps falter for a moment, the soft swish of her hand running along a desk off to his right. He craned his ears in the direction, his wand picking up the movement as he tried to discern the student that the former Unspeakable was paying special attention to. The silhouette of a girl filled his mindseye, her form slumping down slightly in her desk as she tugged lightly on the scarf wrapped around her head. Ominis’ frown stretched deeper across his face at the realization that the professor was checking on the new girl, again. What was so special about her? Why was everyone so enraptured by her presence? She didn’t seem all that remarkable when in the school building at least. She was just mysterious. He was mysterious at first, but the fascination with him soon dwindled as his peers realized he was the same as everyone else.

So, the slytherin pondered, why was she still the talk of the halls?

Why was Hecat teaching this lesson?

Why was it important for a group of pubescent teenagers to know about something that existed across the ocean from them?

Ominis had more questions than answers, and each one confounded him more and more by the second.

“Medusa was a devout follower of Athena, the goddess of wisdom, handicraft, and war. One night, while praying to her goddess, she captured the attention of Athena’s brother, Poseidon. He appeared to her, intent on taking what he believed should be ‘his.’” Hecat paused, her stony gaze sweeping across the classroom as if challenging anyone to so much as breathe too loud. “He took her there, in the temple, leaving her on the floor as she sobbed and prayed to her goddess for forgiveness.”

Ominis could cut the tension coating the air of the room like a thick, viscous fog with a knife. No one dared make a sound, enraptured by the words of their wise mentor.

“Some myths say that Athena took pity on the girl and transformed her into something that no man could ever gaze on again. Some say she punished her for leading a man into her sacred temple and letting him defile it. No one knows the true story except those who were there, and the old gods have long since left our realm for their own paradise on Olympus.”

The apprehension screaming in every magical mind surrounding the dearly loved, and feared, elder was palpable in the tiny class space.

“Now, some of you may be wondering why I teach this lesson.” As if reading his mind, Ominis felt Hecat level him with a stare that burned hotter than even the most blistering fire poker. “The answer, of course, is that no one knows what happened to the child of Medusa and Poseidon.”

The young Gaunt felt all the air get sucked from his lungs as if a dementor escaped from Azkaban just to find him specifically. A child of a god and a witch? It was unheard of— it was disastrous. Their magic would be unstoppable; nothing in their world would ever match the power of a child brimming with that much otherworldly energy. Whether they used their powers for good or evil, or even some mix of the two, they would be legendary all the same. At that moment, a thought came to Ominis. Would they also be part Gorgon? If Medusa was transformed while with child, who's to say that the babe would not share the same affliction.

As suddenly as a strike of lightning, or a downpour in April, Ominis Gaunt answered the question that had been on his mind since the start of term.

The new girl was a Gorgon.

How had he not realized before? The snakes that were always around when she was— how her head and eyes were always covered— how no one knew where she hailed from and had no hint other than the fact that her accent was vaguely Greecian? It was right in front of his blind eyes from the beginning; he was just too much of a jealous fool to see it.

Just then the bell chimed across the campus, signaling the impending class change. Professor Hecat’s voice broke through the bustle of his peers standing and gathering their things in preparation for their trek to their next lesson.

“We will continue our discussion on mythos and magic next week. Please remember to study for the upcoming OWLs! They are written and practical, so be sure to practice the physical spells as well as memorize the theory!”

Ominis scrambled to gather his things, determined to catch the new girl before she disappeared into the crowd. Dodging around a loitering Sebastian— the brunette’s hand raised as if gearing to make some idiotic, yet somehow still brilliant, point— he all but sprinted into the congested hallway. His wand waved in front of him as he scanned each person he passed, his ears tuned to any noise that sounded vaguely serpentine in the hopes that her reptilian tresses would sound out as they always did this close to lunch time. Alas, they were as silent as a dead rodent in a viper pit.

Just then, the young boy caught sight of the girl, her silhouette moving ferociously among the masses as if she would rather be anywhere but there. Underneath all his confusion, morbid curiosity, and pulsating anger at how she has been endangering, and possibly enchanting, his best friend, Ominis felt a pang of pity. He didn’t blame her one bit for wanting to leave as quickly as possible— not at all. He knew all too well how it felt to have all eyes burning through his skin at every turn, even if no one else seemed to figure out her secret other than him. He couldn’t let her escape, though; he needed answers, he needed closure. Halting in his tracks, he racked his mind for what he could do to get her attention. She wouldn’t hear him call her name in the ruckus around them, nor could he keep up with her brusk pace. There was really only one option to choose, and as much as he hated to do it, snakes had an incredible sense of hearing, or rather, in their case, an excellent sense for vibrations.

His voice flowed from his lips in a strong hiss, the air seeming to break just for the words to slither their way to their target like a bush adder in a pile of leaves. “I know what you are.”

Her “pets” were startlingly silent as her hung head raised from its slumped position against her chest, her sigh heaving her shoulders into proper posture— a constrictor poised to strangle.

The boy felt her words before he heard them— the air stilling around him like a world born anew.

“I suppose it’s my turn to explain things, then.”

AN:

Shes baaaaaacccckkkkkkk :)

***

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pinkynana · 2 years

Text

gamer boys are the easiest target for you. they barely interact with any other woman so the moment you find out haechan was a gamer boy, you promised to sit on his lap any time he wanted to.

warnings : cock sucking, boob job, fingering, finger sucking, pussy slapping (like, once)

taglist : @matchahyuck @jiminsfiilter @jaemjunie @babyjenono @woniebuns @thegracerammy @jyowui (couldn't tag the last two)

note: as the starter of this series, i would like to tell you guys that reader doesn't actually have sex with most of the boys except one. because the point is that she uses these men for their attention and doesn't want anything else from them. if you dont like that you can just stop reading from here. please do not complain to me after this. enjoy reading if you stay!

all the seats were taken at the diner when you entered it. even the high stools were all full. some couples, some friends, some families and of course there were people who sat alone. seems like you had to flirt with that guy over there sitting at one of the booth so you could sit with him.

you pasted on a sweet smile, rolled your skirt up to make it shorter and approached the guy that had his headphones on, focusing on his phone. you knocked on his table to make him look at you. he pushed the left side of his headphone to hear you saying "can i sit here with you?"

"oh, sure." the guy pulled his plate towards him so you could have more space on your side of the table. you took the seat across him. as you landed your ass on your seat, his focus went back to his phone.

it annoyed you.

so you tap on one of his hands lightly. he gave you the same look he did a minute ago when you asked to sit with him.

"what are you doing?" you asked curiously. "watching a stream." he answered.

"twitch?" he nodded. "i wanna see." you got up and sat next to him. your face was literally next to his, your cheek touching his headphones. you have no idea who the streamer was but you watched anyway so the guy would be bothered by your presence.

"ooh, can i have an egg salad, fries and a banana milkshake please? thank you!" you called out to the waitress walking past you. you actually wanted to eat a burger but that plan was canceled. there's no way you'd let this hot man witness how sloppy you eat.

"i can't hear him." you whined. no shit, sherlock. he had his headphones on.

he didn't say anything but he did turn his headphones off, placed his phone against the salt and pepper shakers so you two could watch the stream together. he thought you'd sit away from him, now that you didn't have to lean against his headphones to listen to something. but you stayed close to him. you were practically hugging his arm there. this stranger you met not even ten minutes ago.

"you're a gamer?" you asked him.

"yeah."

probably why he's not pushing you away. when else could he have the chance of getting a pretty girl like you to stick on him like glue?

"really? that's so hot. i always wanted to sit on the lap of a gamer guy while he plays his game." you realized how stupid you sound at the moment. you've done that plenty of times. this guy isn't the first. but still, it's your favorite thing because you could feel the guy getting hard underneath you.

"what's your name, by the way? i'm ___." you finally introduced yourself.

"i'm hyuck. donghyuck. i like your stars." he was referring to your hair clips that were star shaped. his compliment made you shriek in excitement. you knew men liked those sounds.

"thank you!" you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"my food's here!" you did some tiny claps with your fingers, looking at the food you ordered.

"can i uh.. can i get your number, ___?" he suddenly said, scratching his neck awkwardly.

he fell right inside your trap.

"of course!" you took out your lipstick and started writing digits on his arm.

donghyuck was confused as to why you did that. you could've just typed it in his phone.

"people actually still do that?" donghyuck's best friend, mark looked at him weird. and then donghyuck smirked. "i'm telling you. this is legit, bro. i had red numbers on my arm."

"she's like so hot but she still has a little side of cute in her too." donghyuck described you. and just at that moment, he received a call from you. he displayed your name to mark, shaking the phone in front of his face. "she's into me."

she's really not.

"hello?"

"hyuck!" you whined. "i'm so lonely. what are you doing? can i come over?" he couldn't see you but you still made a cute little face.

"of course you can, baby. come here. i'm just about to start my gaming session."

you giggled. "you called me baby."

"and does baby like it?"

"she likes it."

"then hurry here. i'll let you sit on me if you come fast enough." he convinced you as if you wouldn't have some sly tricks down your sleeves to make him let you sit on him while he plays.

not more than 20 minutes later, you arrived at donghyuck's shared apartment with mark. you still haven't met this mark yet and he wasn't there when you came. if you saw him, you'd probably try getting his attention too.

"hyuckie!" you spread your arms up high, asking for a hug from this gamer boy you've met for only three times, fourth if you count the lunch time at the diner.

he immediately gave you the hug and you snuggled against his chest. "i can feel your heartbeat." you said. he kissed the top of your head, catching the scent of your citrus shampoo.

"what does my heartbeat tell you?" he rested his chin on your head. "it's telling me that you like having me here." he laughed at your answer, pulling out of the hug and guiding you to his gaming set.

"i'm streaming today." he sat on his gaming chair, patting his thigh to invite you to sit on him. usually you'd sit facing the pc to see the game and how it's played. but today you felt too lazy to pretend to care about that. you sat facing him, hiding your face on his neck as you gave it lazy kisses.

"hi guys." he started speaking to his viewers. you hoped that some guys you messed with some time in the past would see this and recognize you and feel jealous of hyuck for being the man that got you now.

"is she your girlfriend?" he read a comment.

"are you?" he looked at you and you just winked, making him laugh. he left the viewer's question unanswered.

"flip her skirt." he read another comment which made you perk up. "guys, my channel isn't 18+. i'm not gonna make her flash you." you smiled, snuggling closer to him. you wouldn't mind it if he made you flash his viewers without even asking you.

soon enough, you got bored with just sitting on his lap and not doing anything. he isn't even getting hard underneath you, not to mention his attention that's fully towards his game. why were you even there?

you pushed his headphones away a little so he could hear your whisper. "hyuck, let's make out." he didn't say anything, focus still on his game as his fingers clicked on his keyboard.

so you started grinding on his lap, not caring about his viewers anymore. he turned off his microphone before talking to you.

"baby, let me finish this round first then we can make out." you shook your head and whined. "i want you to kiss me now." you pout your lips. "baby, i-"

you shut him up with your lips, finally getting what you wanted from him. you licked up his mouth, exploring it. your hands behind his neck so he can't pull away.

you hear a faint sound from his headphones that indicated that he lost the game.

but he pushed your arms and pulled away anyway. you had a feeling that he's mad at you. gamer boys' rage can be dramatic but if he got mad at you or yelled at you, you'd leave him that very moment. you hate men who yell at women. their attention wouldn't matter anymore at that point.

"get on the bed." he said. and you smiled in victory, seeing him ending his live. you giggled when you landed your ass on his bed, can't wait for him to get on the bed too.

you stuck your tongue out at him so he could immediately suck on it. "naughty girl." he chuckled. you didn't care about anything else when he finally landed his lips on yours, taking away each other's breath. you could feel him getting hard as it kept hitting your thighs.

gamers are so easy.

"hyuck, wanna suck you off." you said when he pulled away to catch his breath. "what?" he thought he misheard it.

"let me suck you off. i know you're hard and it's because of me. so let me help you." your fingers played with the strings of his sweatpants, waiting for his agreement.

"fuck, yeah. go ahead, baby. take my dick out and suck it. on your knees now." he told and you find it hilarious how he's trying to dom you when you've got the upper hand from day one. but you followed his instructions anyway, getting down from the bed to get on your knees. you pulled his sweatpants and his underwear down, revealing his hard and throbbing cock.

the thought that you caused this made you dizzy. you feel powerful. hyuck has no idea. he sat down on his bed, having your face in between his legs.

you started jerking it off while looking at him with round eyes. you even leaned your face on his thigh, moving your hand on his dick lazily. looking so innocent while doing something so unholy. you opened your mouth and let his cock rest on your tongue without actually sucking it. "baby, none of that please. just suck my cock like a good girl." he groaned and you giggled.

deciding to be nice, you closed your mouth around his cock as you moved forward so your nose hits his tummy. you let your tongue out so it could reach for his balls underneath. then, you moved back and then forward again. you loved the sounds that he's making. you loved the feeling of his dick twitching in your mouth. and you know you will love the way he pours his cum into you.

"you're so good at this." his eyes were closed and his head was thrown back. you suddenly had an idea of how to make this more pleasurable.

you took off your shirt, leaving your bra on so your breasts were perked together. you started rubbing his cock with your boobs while you kissed the tip that's peaking out. "fuck, you're so sexy looking like that." he started caressing your hair, praising you. the way he moaned louder and louder convinced you that he was close.

"wanna cum on your pretty face." even if you had different ideas, you're still fine with making his wish come true. so you moved your breasts on him faster as you started sucking on his tip.

"gonna cum. gonna cum. gonna cum. fuck, baby. fuck. paint your face with my cum. close your eyes"

and he did just that. his juice landed everywhere on your face. you're glad he reminded you to close your eyes. you could feel it dripping from your eyelashes to your cheeks. he moaned at the sight, loving his masterpiece.

"you can take a picture, hyuck."

"shit. stay still, okay?" he left the bed to look for his phone.

"open your mouth and stick your tongue out, please." he started taking your pictures. once he's done, he swipes his cum away from your eyes.

"you wanna continue?" he asked but you immediately stood up. "actually i have plans with my girl friends tonight. you can help me clean my face though."

you washed your face in his bathroom and he helped you redo your makeup since he's the one who ruined it. you sat on his sink, facing him. you had him standing in between your legs. "just stroke it up." you guided him to apply mascara on you. "what if i poke your eye?" he worried but you took his hand and showed him how it's done.

"you can take it slow. i'm in no rush." you ensured him.

"maybe you should just bail." he pulled the mascara wand away from your face. "awwh, but i haven't met my girls in so long." as if you actually cared about meeting them. convinced enough, hyuck continues to help you apply your make up.

seeing him this close, with such a focused face made you count his moles and admired how beautiful he actually is. once he was done with your mascara, you pulled him into a kiss, softer than your make out session from before. then you started giving kisses on his moles.

when you pulled away, hyuck had his fingers on your chin. "want me to eat you out, baby?" you bit your lip at his invitation. it was tempting, of course. but you want to keep kissing him too.

you thought of a solution. "maybe fuck me with your fingers? i really like kissing you." you gave his lip a little lick. he chuckled at your suggestion. "and you said you didn't want to continue after swallowing my cum."

he started kissing you again, this time with his fingers teasing your core. "hyuckie, want your fingers in me. don't you want to make me cum on your fingers?" you turned impatient.

"of course, baby. want you to make a mess just from my fingers." you loved the fact that he kept kissing you after you told him that you liked it. your makeup was ruined again at this point but you didn't care. kissing hyuck felt so addicting to you. he looked so pretty like this.

you feel his fingers pushing your panties aside to put it in. you smiled on his mouth. you thought you'd be cumming on your own tonight. you were thankful for making a last minute decision of letting him finger you like this.

he started pumping them in and out if you. "messy baby." he's probably talking about how wet you were and the squelching sounds from both your lips.

"nggh, hyuck. wanna cum." you bit his shoulder and started moving your hips on his fingers, desperate to chase your high.

"fuck, you look so sexy." he fucked his fingers into you faster than before, wanting to see how messy you'd get once he makes you cum for him. "cum, baby. you're doing so well." his lips came back to yours so he'd have you moaning on his mouth.

you started babbling nonsense when you let go and came on him. "fuck, baby. so fucking sexy for me." he slapped your cunt once before bringing his fingers to his mouth, tasting your juices.

"you taste so good. i should really eat you out next time."

next time, huh? as if.

"we have to do my makeup again." you said. "i'm sorry, baby. i'll help you."

you left his apartment after you're sure that you look presentable. but most of all, you left while being sure that all the next times donghyuck jerks off, he'll think of you. he'll use the picture he took and wish you were there to suck him off again. wished he could at least fucked you. but you won't.

this is enough. you made him hard, made him cum, made sure that he thinks of you next time. he'll probably even compare other girls to you.

you won in the game he didn't know he was playing. so who's the gamer now?

#donghyuck smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #haechan smut #lee donghyuck smut #00 line attention series

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jasmines-library · 10 months

Note

Loving your whumptober so far! Spent like an hour reading through all of your entries and wow 🥰 if you’re still taking requests, maybe you could consider doing a batfam fic with a reader who used to be a member of the court of owls. I just think that’d be cute haha

The Cover Up

Summary: You're tired of living a lie. of living in a constant state of secrecy. You want out, but you have to wait for the perfect opportunity to strike. That finally comes in the form of Dick Grayson, but things so sideways when the Court send assassins after you and you are forced to rely on a team of masked vigilante's and long-time enemies of the Court to save your life. (gn reader :))

Note: I had to do a bit of research for this one but this was so much fun to write! Thank you for requesting anon!

Warnings: implied/ briefly mentioned abusive parents, assassination attempts, non descriptive injury, found family and a fluffy ending :)

Word count: 3.2k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Galas were boring. At least they were in Gotham. They were all the same; a bunch of wealthy snobs dressed extravagantly all crammed into a room with delicately ornate ceilings and diamond shaped chandeliers. The sound of feet shuffling and heels clicking against the polished floors occasionally broke through the sound of chatter as guests mingled, drifting between one and other, passing around pristine champagne glasses that glistened when they caught the light that seemed to be obsessively bright considering it was dark outside and all you could see besides the moon and the stars were the street lamps that dwindled away into nothing in the distance.

You had secluded yourself to the top of the stairs, tucking yourself into a corner by the bannister, trying to find a way to sit in your outfit that made you feel like the human embodiment of a wooden plank; the material was too stiff in some places, and if you moved in certain ways, it would ride up and sit uncomfortably on your skin. From up here you had a clear view of everything from below. You kept a keen eye on the Wayne boys as they dotted around the room, plastering on smiles to hide their clearly bored faces.

You couldn’t help needing the constant feeling of being able to survey. It was something that your family had ingrained into you from the moment you were old enough to understand how to keep a secret. See, your family was part of a syndicate that dated back hundreds of years. It used its wealth and the power that came with it to manipulate its way into getting what it wants when it wants it. But, it wasn’t just your family. There were others, too. In fact, at least half of the people in the room were a part of the syndicate. The Court of Owls. The elite. Gothams deadliest. And you were lucky to be one of them. Or, that’s what you had always been told…but recently, you had been feeling off. Something hacked away at you, your life was one big lie. And what you were doing felt wrong… you couldn’t handle the blood shed anymore. Just a little bit longer, you told yourself. You would find a way out.

“What are you doing?”

The gruff voice made you jump. Lost in your reverie, you hadn’t even heard the figure approach from behind you. His large figure and broad shoulders told you that his steps should have been heavy, but there was something else about him that screamed the opposite at you, but perhaps your hardwiring was making you overthink.

“I uh…Sorry.” You mumbled, scrambling to stand up and failing to think of an excuse.

He scoffed lightly, shaking his head and extending a hand from his black suit jacket for you to take. When you took it, it was calloused but gentle, warm and followed by a chivalrous grin.

“I don’t think we’ve met before.” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

You shook your head. “Perhaps not. I tend to keep to myself at these kinds of things. Try to avoid them if possible.”

The boy smiled. “Agreed. I’m Dick. Dick Grayson.”

“Y/N.” You shook his hand, opting not to give him a last name. You knew that if you gave it away somehow you would slip up. “So, you’re one of Wayne’s kids? What’s that like for you?”

“Exactly as you’d expect it to be. Three whiny little brothers, a dad who’s barely there, but somehow still overprotective all the time. What more could one ask for?”

“Sounds like you’re living the life.” You agreed. You hated to admit it, but you were slightly jealous of the kid. You had always begged for a normal life. Well, as close to normal as you could get to.

“Yeah.” Dick shrugged.

There was something about this stranger that made you feel safe. It was an odd sensation, but talking to Dick made you feel like a missing part of you had been filled. His voice was so comforting that it allowed you to get lost within his lilt for hours, losing track of time and purpose, forgetting about that oh so present worry of keeping the secret. It wasn't until a cold, bony hand wrapped around your elbow, tugging you up and away from the stairs. You weren’t even given a change to say goodbye to Dick as you were mercilessly dragged away.

Your mother scolded you that night. Hurrying you down the dark pathway. She uttered the same words. It was always the same words. “I’m disappointed in you, Y/N.” “That’s not how we act, Y/N.” “Oh, if only he could see you now he would be outraged at how useless you are.”

It would have been nice to say that you had to bite back the tears, but it was such a common occurrence now that you just kept your face stoic and marched on down the pathway, listening to the gravel crunch as it shifted under your shoes instead of your mother.

It was that night that seemed to be the final straw.Another scolding from your mother at the Court meeting before bed, and you finally snapped. It was embarrassing, being belittled like that in front of your friends. So, although the plan was slightly rushed, it seemed to be the perfect timing. It was already late, and your parents had retired to bed with weary steps and droopy eyes. It was the perfect chance to slip out unnoticed. Or, so you thought.

With your bag slung over your shoulder and your mask still pressed tightly to your face, you tried to slip out of the door. You were halfway down the driveway, keeping your back pressed to the dark shadows cast by the hedges when you heard it. A snap, and then an animalistic growl. And then there were the haunting green eyes that seemed to blink into existence out of nowhere; vibrant and angry they stared a never resisting stare at you as the humanoid honed in on you.

Without thinking twice, you dropped your bag and ran, slamming your feet into the ground and propelling yourself down the drive and into the maze of buildings in Gotham City. The Talon was right behind you. You could hear it drawing in, feel its hot breath every time you began to slow, only for it to propel you on faster.

When you found a fork in the path, you made a fake turn hoping to trick the Talon into going the wrong way as you clambered up an old steel ladder that made you wince as it echoed much too loudly across the alley for your liking. For one, bittersweet moment, you thought that it had worked, but after catching your breath at the top of the roof, you were forced back to running at the sound of a second charging at you even more persistently than the first. It was safe to say that you were now your family’s enemy.

You cursed, leaping across the flat roofs as you tried to lose them, but the assassins weren't relenting.

The darkness made it difficult to see where each building ended and the next one began, but you continued to hurl yourself across them, unsure of where you were actually trying to get to. All you knew was that you had to get out of Gotham. And fast.

But your plan seemed to go sideways when they began to throw the knives. Small but deadly, they were rounded into a fine point a few inches below a well etched hole for them to be flung from the wielder's hands. Their poison tipped grooves glimmered unsettlingly as they whipped through the air with concerning precision, but your time with the Court gives you a one up on the average person and allows you to dodge a few of them. But only by mere millimetres.

Despite the burn in your thighs, you sped up weaving around Gotham until you thought you had finally slipped their grasp. But the assassins were highly trained, and you should have known better than to trust your immediate judgement.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a throwing knife found its place within your back, tearing away at the fabric of your outfit. You let out a gasp of pain, but pressed on racing around a corner. But then another found its mark deep within your calf. You cursed, biting down harshly on your lip then stumbling around a corner and pressing yourself against the concrete wall. With heavy breaths as though all of your oxygen had been snatched away from you, you listened anxiously. But you heard nothing besides the occasional car passing by in the street below.

Without thinking twice about it, you tore the daggers from your skin, biting back your cry of pain hoping that if you got them out the poison wouldn’t spread, though fortune didn’t seem to be in your favour recently. After tearing a strip of material from your sleeve and creating a makeshift bandage around your leg, you hobbled quickly down the nearest set of steps winching each time the wound in your leg shifted.

You didn’t think your night could get any worse, but it was then as you whipped around a corner that you collided with a firm chest. The figure was masked and decked with a blue insignia that somewhat resembled a raven. He was quick to grip you by the shoulders and slam you against the wall.

Pushing at him feebly you tried to loosen his hold on you but you were outmatched by his strength and your body was beginning to succumb to the effects of the poison the Talons had laced their weapons in, so you just gazed at him wide eyed behind your mask. You were running out of time.

“Please.” You implored, struggling against him “I have to get out of here. They’re coming for me.”

“What?” He almost barked. “Who?”

“I-”

“Answer me, Bird.” His jaw tensed. Your family didn’t have a very good history with Gotham’s vigilantes.

“The Talons.” You gritted out.

You visibly saw confusion cross his face as he deepened his brow, but he loosened his grip when he saw the glowing eyes appear on the rooftop.

“We need to leave.” You pushed yourself away from the wall and propelled yourself further into Gotham, not caring that the vigilante was close behind. In fact, it only occurred to you that he was following you when one of the assassins managed to approach from front to try and corner you. With your vision doubling your aim was off and the dagger sailed past your target, so Nightwing raced past you and moved to take it out with one swipe of his electrified staff only to be cut short by the sound of gunfire and the emergence of another masked figure, only this one was cloaked in red. The two vigilantes acknowledged each other seemingly commuicating to eacother in ways you couldn't hear. You nodded at him gratefully and continued to make a break for it, only glancing back once to fling the other stolen dagger at your pursuers and hoping that it did something useful other than clatter to the floor.

It seemed life forever by the time you were able to stop running. You were on the far side of Gotham, away from all of the hubbub of the city. You breathed heavily clutching at the stitch in your side when your legs buckled and you had no choice but to sit down on the ground to unravel the blood soaked rag and examine the angry cut.

Red Hood seemed to have other plans for when you tilted your head up, he was angling his gun towards you at you.

“Why were they after you?” he demanded, scowling. “Who are you?”

“I-” You began to explain but you were overcome with a rush of nausea and soon the lights of Gotham city and the masked vigilantes faded to black.

Dick Grayson frowned as he studied your unconscious body tucked neatly into one of the spare bedrooms in the manor. It had been four long days since he had hauled you had succumbed to the effects of the poison and your body had raised an alarming fever that caused beads of sweat to form across your hot skin. You were so warm that he could feel the heat radiating from you by the chair he was sitting in albeit you couldn’t stop shivering.

Tenderly he brushed the hair from your face. One of the first things that they had done was remove your mask, and it was safe to say that Dick was taken aback when he realised that it was you hiding behind the costume. When he carried you back to the manor he wasn’t entirely sure why. It would have been easier to have just left you there to rot, after all his family were no big fans of the Court of Owls, but there was just something about you that compelled him to. You seemed so scared and innocent, but he could tell you also had this fire that flickered inside of you, desperate to leap out. It was oddly familiar to him, but he couldn’t place why until he took off the mask. When he had met you that night you hadn’t seemed like the person who would be a part of the court. He and Jason had been studying them for years and your tenderness didn’t seem to fit the profile. But then they sent assassins after you, so perhaps you were never really part of them in the first place? There were so many unanswered questions that they made the vigilantes head spin.

“They still not awake yet?” Tim asked, pushing open the door with his legs before setting down two mugs of coffee. He had taken a particular interest in you since you had arrived. All of the boys had. They had all seen you at Bruce’s galas, even spoken to you once or twice, so your entire predicament really interested them.

It was then that you began to stir; muscles twitching and eyes blinking slowly. That was then followed by a low groan as all of your sensations flooded back to you all at once, hitting you like a ton of bricks as the headache and dull throbbing from the stitches kicked in.

“Take it easy.” Tim said as you jerked up suddenly. “You’ll tear your stitches.”

You eyed him confused, but slightly calmer when you realised that you were out. That the Talons hadn’t ended your life.

“How did I get here…?” You blinked.

The two brothers glanced at each other and then Dick sighed. The truth would only come out sooner or later.

“We ran into each other a few nights ago. You passed out on me so I brought you back here… We managed to treat you for the poison, but you’ve wracked up quite a fever. It’s a good thing you took those out when you did.” He gestured towards the bandages that were wrapped securely around your chest and your leg. “Any longer and.. Well.”

“Oh…”

“Oh? That’s it? You don’t care that he’s just revealed our identities?” Tim asked.

You shrugged. “I guess it makes sense. Five of you. Five of them. And I suppose it’s only fair. You know who I am, now I know who you are.”

You trailed off. You still needed to get as far away from Gotham as possible.

“Thank you for everything, but I need to go-” You tried to push yourself up on shaky arms but were stopped by Tim.

“Stay there. Your body still needs to recover.”

“But they’re after me. I need to leave. I’m putting us all in jeopardy just by being here-”

“Relax.” Dick told you, running his hand down your arm “You’re safe. They’re not going to hurt you here. Not under our watch.”

His tenderness caught you off guard. It wasn’t something you were used to having.

“Get some rest, y/n.” he told you. “We’ll keep you safe as long as you need.”

Much to your surprise you had ended staying with the Waynes much longer than you had anticipated.

At first, you told yourself it was just to get yourself back up on your feet before you disappeared under the radar, but you soon began to develop a strong liking for each other and your bonds with them began to grow.

You began to enjoy spending time with them; passionate talks with Tim or bingeing movies with Jason until ungodly hours in the morning before being scolded by Alfred for not getting a healthy amount of sleep and sparring with Dick to help maintain your combat skills that at first you had wanted to ditch, but were eventually persuaded otherwise. You had even grown close with Damian who although was reluctant to openly warm up to you at first had eventually become someone you shared nearly everything with. It didn’t take long at all before you were the voice that guided them through their ear pieces each time they set out on patrol.

Time seemed to pass by in a flash because before you knew it, it had been months since you first arrived and you no longer felt as though you were an outsider. They had welcomed you with open arms, sympathising with your situation but allowing you that space for your own independence which you were often grateful for at times when you didn’t want to deal with their antics.

The four of them felt as though they had a duty to protect you for a while after your escape from the Court. They had been incredibly helpful in keeping you out of your family’s watchful eye, even going as far as creating you a fake identity, but they also gave you a sense of security. It was their kindness and their love that allowed you to fall asleep at night, and it was their knowledge that allowed them to be there for you when it all just became a little too much and you were in desperate need of a shoulder or four to cry on.

They made you feel safe.

You cherished each and every moment that you shared with the Wayne boys. Both the good and the bad. Each one was a reminder of who you were. That you had carved your own path and were free to discover who you wanted to be.

Thank you for reading! Hope you liked :)

⛤ MAIN MASTERLIST ⛤

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jar-of-ectoplasm · 3 months

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Who Can It Be Now?

Going back to my quotev days and writing some "creepypasta" fanfic (its marble hornets but nobody bothers to differentiate them)

basically it's the 4 main guys (brian, tim, jay, alex) stalking the reader, there's no specific timeline in the series but obviously its before people died

please note i'm not trying to glorify stalking in any way, shape, or form, it's a weird fucked up thing to do, this is purely based in fiction.

i hope you enjoy

Tim Wright/The Masked Man

-He knows what it's like to be watched, to have all of your privacy breached without your knowledge, but he can't really help himself. He wants to blame the Masked Man for why he's doing this to you, but it's a cheap scapegoat.

-Tim won't make himself too suspicious, he doesn't want the cops called on him or to scare you, so he usually sticks to lurking around you in public. Seeing him in the corner of your eye only to look and see that he'd slipped into a crowd, having him watch you through the gaps in grocery store shelves

-He'll strike up friendly small talk with you if you do ever approach him, but he'll never do anything too forward on his own. If he's memorized your morning schedule enough, sometimes he'll pop into your favorite cafe before you and pay for your order or leave enough money for lunch under your windshield wiper. Small acts of secret service are his go-to, something like a secret admirer's way of courting

-He'd never go so far as to break into your home or steal your belongings, at least that's what he thinks. The t-shirts too small to be his that appear in his own home are a mystery to him (and to you, considering your laundry keeps disappearing)

-Masky is almost the opposite of Tim. If he's in control, you will feel eyes on you every second of the day, even in the "comfort" of your own home. He turns Tim's awkward glances and small favors to a complete 180. He's burning holes into your head for hours on end, not letting you leave his sight for a moment.

-It doesn't matter what time of day it is to him; he will be following you as close as he can, mask on or off. He'll follow you just a little too close, stare a little too long, anything he can do to make sure you don't get too far from him

-Even at night, he'll break in when you're sound asleep. He'll sit atop your dresser or hide in your closet, just watching. Nothing will stop him from making sure you're in his line of sight, not even the Operator.

Brian Thomas/The Hooded Figure

-Almost like Tim, in the way he'll do small favors for you, but these are much more personal. Instead of just doing monetary things for you, Brian will go out of his way to sneak into your home and leave subtle reminders of errands you may have to run or other important things on your to-do list. Your laptop will be on your coffee table in the morning, open to an application website or your final paper with a hot cup of coffee and your favorite breakfast right next to it.

-It's scary how quickly and quietly he can do these things for you when you're asleep just a room away, but he always manages to do something grand for you every morning...however creepy it may be to wake up to it.

-The difference between Brian and Hoodie is almost nonexistent. They are one in the same to me, which means their methods of watching you are very similar, though Brian is always willing to approach you with small talk and try to befriend you.

-Despite the similarities, there is a clear difference in the air around them. Though you may think you're talking with the guy that always seems to be at the library, grocery store, or cafe whenever you are, the look in his eyes isn't the same as it was last time. There's no genuine kindness, no innocent interest, just pure obsession.

-Hoodie is a lot more daring in his escapades into your home. He'll break into your bedroom window, before you've even fallen asleep, and make himself comfortable under your bed until you've finally gone to bed.

-He'll slip out of his hiding place, looming over your bed, camera in hand. Sweeping the hair out of your face, he'll zoom in, capturing your unconscious expression. He'll stand there for hours, just watching. Inches away from your face, he'll finally whisper a quiet goodbye before leaving the same way he came in

-Whether you were really asleep or not, your mind knows something is wrong. Maybe next time you'll remember to lock your window...even though he'll find his way in regardless.

Jay Merrick

-Unlike Tim or Brian, Jay refuses to go up to you at all. He won't risk getting you involved in whatever is going on around him, even though he's already put you in enough danger just hanging around you.

-That won't stop him from lurking around you, though. He catches every little movement you make on camera, just waiting to get back to his apartment to rewatch the footage over and over and over again, conjuring up a connection between the two of you in his mind.

-Jay will be too nervous to blow his cover to ever talk to you, so he sticks to his imagination. In his head, the two of you are madly in love, but in reality, it couldn't be further from the truth. It'd be surprising if you even knew his name.

-If Alex started catching on to what Jay was doing, he'd start getting aggressive. Jay has convinced himself the two of you are meant to be this way, and if Alex can't see that then it's too bad for him. Jay isn't changing for anybody.

-He wouldn't go so far as to break into your home, but he would sit outside your bedroom window and peek in every hour to make sure you were still safe and sound. He's grown hyper-paranoid about you and your safety, it's like having a really weird security system.

-Like Tim he'd memorize your routine so he could make sure to be at the right place at the right time to catch a glimpse of you, even though you'd start to notice the weirdo with a camera following you everywhere eventually.

-Even if you'd start to catch on, it's not like he looks threatening enough to be taken seriously. Sure, he's got a camera and is going everywhere you seem to go, but he's a film student. His professor will back him up on this, he swears it.

Alex Kralie

-Like Jay, he would also record everything. Literally everything. You can't go a single minute without feeling like you're being watched. Alex will go out of his way to purchase security cameras to install in your home so he can keep (several) eyes on you.

-Is more than willing to approach you and try to strike up a conversation. He isn't too shameful about being everywhere you are. He'll throw in a joke or two about it into every conversation the two of you have, which only heightens your acknowledgement of it. He thinks it's a game.

-But cat and mouse isn't the only game he's willing to play with you, no. Hide and seek is a fun one too. He'll sneak into your home in broad daylight and hide around various spaces in every room. Under your bed, in your closet, behind the shower curtain, anywhere. He gets a kick out of sneaking around while your back is (literally) turned

-He won't do anything to "help out" like Brian or Tim, he'll actively make things more difficult for you. Moving things to higher shelves, hiding remote controls, stealing computer chargers, unplugging appliances. Anything to cause a slight obstacle in your day, he'll do it

-When the Operator starts taking old of his mind, though, things start to get even worse. He will start to leave things for you, in the form of ominous notes scribbled on paper and small reminders that you are not, and will never be, alone.

-What starts off as something mildly perturbing turns into genuine terror when he hides around your house. He'll let you find him this time, and he swears he won't come back, but he always manages to weasel his way in.

-Calling the cops won't do much of anything either...Alex isn't afraid to get his hands dirty when it's for something he really wants.

#hooray #marble hornets #marble hornets x reader #tim wright #tim wright x reader #masky marble hornets #masky x reader #brian thomas #brian thomas x reader #hoodie marble hornets #hoodie x reader #jay merrick #jay merrick x reader #alex kralie #alex kralie x reader

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saintmachina · 6 months

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One million dollar question: is it true that the Bible condems homosexuality? I had a discussion with two conservatives who sent me some verses that seem to confirm that but i don't know much about the context although i know this is important too

Let’s start here: why is this the million dollar question? Why does it matter what the Bible has to say about sex, or love, or human relationships? At the end of the day, it’s just a book, right?

Oceans of ink (and blood) have been spilled over not only what the Bible says, but what it does, how it functions. The course of empires, nations, and families have been shaped by the contents of this book, and from a historical and cultural perspective, it holds a lot of weight. But you didn’t ask about the sociological, you asked about the theological, so let’s explore.

Different Christian traditions vary in their approach to scripture. For example: some Protestant denominations believe that the Bible is inspired, inerrant, and infallible. In this paradigm, God is the ultimate author of scripture working through human hands, and the resulting text is both without error and in no way deceptive or mistaken. Similarly, The Second Vatican Council decreed that “the books of Scripture must be acknowledged as teaching solidly, faithfully and without error that truth which God wanted put into sacred writings for the sake of salvation.” When a member of the clergy is ordained into the Episcopal Church they swear that they “do believe the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments to be the Word of God, and to contain all things necessary to salvation.”

Can you see how many of these points of doctrine overlap yet seek to distinguish themselves from one another? Theologians have spent lifetimes arguing over definitions, and even when they manage to settle on solid teachings, the way that the teaching is interpreted by the clergy and incorporated into the lives of the laity varies WIDELY. As much as systematic theology may try, humans aren’t systematic beings. We’re highly contextual: we only exist in relation to others, to history, to circumstance, and to the divine. We simply cannot call up God to confirm church teaching, and I think a lot of people cling excessively to the Bible as a result of the ache (dare I even say trauma) of being separated from God via space and time in the way we currently are.

God is here, but God is not here. God is within us, God is within the beloved, God is within the sea and sky and land, and yet we cannot grasp God to our bodies in the way we long to. In this earthly lifetime, we are forever enmeshed in God, yet forever distinct, and that is our great joy and our great tragedy.

So barring a direct spiritual experience or the actual second coming, we're left to sort through these things ourselves. And because humans are flawed, our interpretations will always be flawed. Even with the presence of the Holy Spirit in our lives guiding us.

When engaging with any sort of Biblical debate, it is essential that you have a strong understanding of what the Bible means to you, an an embodied individual living a brief little awful and wonderful life on Earth. Otherwise it's easy to get pushed around by other people’s convincing-sounding arguments and sound bites.

Here’s where I show my hand. As a confirmed Episcopalian I believe that reason, tradition, and scripture form the “three-legged stool” upon which the church stands, interdependent and interrelational to each other, but I’ve also like, lived a life outside of books. I’ve met God in grimy alleyways and frigid ocean waters and in bed with my lovers. So my stool is actually four-legged, because I think it’s essential to incorporate one’s personal experience of God into the mix as well. (I did not invent this: it’s called the Wesleyan quadrilateral, but the official Wesleyan quadrilateral insists that scripture must trump all other legs of the table in the case of a conflict which...*cynical noises*)

Please do not interpret this answer as me doing a hand-wavey "it's all vibes, man, we're all equally right and equally wrong", but I do absolutely think we have a responsibility as creatures to weigh the suffering and/or flourishing of our fellow creatures against teachings handed down through oral tradition, schisms, imperial takeover of faith, and translation and mistranslation. Do I believe the Bible is sacred, supernatural even, and that it contains all things necessary to find one's way to God, if that is the way God chooses to manifest to an individual in a given lifetime? Absolutely. Do I believe it is a priceless work of art and human achievement that captures ancient truths and the hopes of a people (as well as a record of their atrocities) through symbols, stories, and signs? Unto my death, I do.

However, I am wary of making an object of human creation, God-breathed though it may be, into an idol, and trapping God in its pages like God is some sort of exotic bug we can pin down with a sewing needle.

Finally, we have reached the homosexuality debate. One of my favorite sayings of Jesus is Matthew 5: 15-17: "Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will know them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thorns, or figs from thistles? In the same way, every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit." In other words: look at what religious teachings have wrought in the world. When I look at homophobic interpretations of the Bible, I see destruction, abuse, suffering, neglect, alienation, spiritual decay, and death. When I look at theology that affirms the holiness of LGBTQ+ relationships, I see joy, laughter, community building, thoughtful care, blooming families, creativity, resilience, and compassion. I see the love of Christ at work in the world. I see the hands of a God who chose under no duress to take up residence in a human body, to drink wine with tax collectors and break bread with sex workers and carry urchin children around on his shoulders. That's my limited little pet interpretation, but hey, that's all any of us really have, at the end of the day.

So, I am absolutely happy to do a play-by-play breakdown of why those passages you were given (we queer Christians often call them "clobber passages" or "texts of terror") don't hold water in a theological, historical, and cultural context. We can talk about Jesus blessing the eunuch and the institution of Greek pederasty and Levitical purity laws and Paul because I've done that reading. I've spent my nights crying in self-hatred and leafing through doctrine books and arguing with my pastors and writing long grad school essays on the subjects. Send me the verses, if you can remember them, and I'll take a look. But it's worth noting that out of the entire Bible, I believe there are only six that explicitly condemn homosexuality AND I'm being generous and including Sodom and Gommorah here, which is a willful and ignorant misreading if I've ever seen one.

In the meantime, I recommend books by people smarter than me! Try Outside The Lines: How Embracing Queerness Will Transform Your Faith by Mihee Kim-Kort, or Does Jesus Really Love Me by Jeff Chu, or Transforming: The Bible and the Lives of Transgender Christians by Austen Hartke!

And take a breath, dear one. Breathe in God, in the droplets of water in the air and in the wind from the south. Breathe in the gift of life, and know that you are loved, now and unto the end of the age and even beyond then.

#I'm sorry this answer is the length of a Victor Hugo novel but I've been mulling on it for days and it unlocked the theology gremlin #who lives in my brain #theology #christianty #queer christianity #progressive christianity #religionposting #catholicism #episcopalian #lgbtq community

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auncyen · 1 month

Text

SO WHEN I STARTED Sif having a bad King fight and then freezing (which lead to Isa and Mira being sad), I'd. kind of wondered where that left Loop, and that's like the one part I wanted to get to, even if I don't plan on writing past that.

Loop is...not doing that great. I'm still figuring out how exactly this conversation would go (Odile wasn't planned at first LOL) but yeah there's a lot of "UM":

You got better. You got to leave the infirmary, though they still wanted you to stay in the House itself for a bit, just in case something happened, rather than being all the way out in the clocktower. You didn't mind, because you felt you needed to be here.

Sif wasn't getting better. They were still frozen on the highest floor of the House. You started helping M'dame with the research she was doing in the library, including the secret library after Euphrasie entrusted her with the knowledge. She raised an eyebrow when you started skimming through tomes and summarizing the chapters aloud to judge if you should give it a closer look, put it back on the shelf, or put it in the 'maybe' pile--only tangentially relevant to healing Craft or Time Craft, but sometimes writers do go on illuminating tangents. "I, uh, used to be a huge nerd," you muttered, because it didn't feel like the time to hide your smarts when Siffrin needed a cure.

Odile looked surprised for a few seconds. "Interesting. I'd wondered."

"You'd…wondered?"

"You're the only man I've ever heard sound smarter with three drinks in him. I'm curious, but it's fine if you don't want to talk about it. We've business right now, anyway."

You did indeed have business. Unfortunately, it was a bust; none of the books you found had an insight into healing a powerful Time Craft curse that M'dame or Mira hadn't already considered. Mira looked increasingly tired and miserable by the day, and at the end of the week Bonbon came in the House to visit Sif and came down yelling because someone had left flowers at his frozen form and that wasn't right, it wasn't right, because Frin was going to unfreeze and be greeted by dead flowers and that would suck, and if someone had left them flowers the way you would at a grave that was even worse because Frin wasn't dead. Bonbon was very clearly more worked up at the idea of Sif being considered 'dead' than Sif waking up to see dead flowers, but you promised them that yeah! You'd tell everyone to wait to give Sif flowers until they were able to appreciate them again. Because of course Sif was going to be able to appreciate flowers again.

You didn't want to think about the other possibility any more than Bonnie did.

The four of you were all stuck in a painful limbo. The Housemaidens and townspeople didn't seem to know if they should treat you as heroes to be celebrated or glass vases ready to shatter, and as much as you tried to smile you felt increasingly brittle. It was kind of a relief when a new issue popped up: there was a stranger at the Favor Tree.

So, strangers usually weren't a problem. Most strangers are nice! Accepting the change that strangers may bring is a key part of the Change faith!

…Most strangers, even if they had different ways of dress and custom, still looked…well. People weren't sure if the stranger was even human? According to the scattered descriptions, they had a human-shaped body, but the skin was like the night sky stuck over the House when it was frozen, and on top of the body was not a head, but a spiky orb radiating light. Some people were scared the stranger might not be a person at all, but some new kind of Sadness left over from Vaugarde's ordeal, or even the King's creation, since…well, yeah. He'd pinned the night sky over the House while he was controlling it. And he'd had stars on his armor. And the night-sky stranger was lurking at the tree, hiding, which unnerved people once they noticed the new and unusual presence. One of the kids had gotten bold enough (he'd been dared) to approach the tree anyway, trying to call out the stranger to talk, and had gotten frightened by an inhuman voice snapping at him to go away. So. Even if this was a human stranger who'd done extreme Body Craft beyond what anyone in Dormont knew to be possible, they were a rude human stranger who'd decided to take over a town's Favor Tree.

…That was the best case scenario. At worst, they were something created by the King.

You decided that as an ex-Defender you were probably the most qualified to have a talk with the stranger and try to figure out who (or what) they were, why they'd taken over the Favor Tree, if there was an alternate arrangement you could work out… or to take them on if they proved hostile.

M'dame decided you were under no circumstances to do this alone, regardless of how well you'd been feeling lately, so she was accompanying you to the Tree. Which you had no complaints with! M'dame was good backup. You got to the base of the tree, standing under its crown. You didn't see anything yet, but the small handful of townspeople who'd seen the stranger had said they'd always ducked behind the tree or had already been hiding behind it, allowing only glimpses of them. They must have already hidden. "Hello, stranger?" you called. "I'm Isabeau, a Defender from Jouvente. Well…ex-Defender, but, um! My colleague and I would like to talk with you?"

"So now we're colleagues?" Odile murmured to you, smirking even as she scrutinized the tree ahead of you.

"Well!" You lower your voice, flustered. "That's how I was used to approaching people on the job."

"I'm teasing, Isabeau."

You know, you know. It still flustered you.

…Although the lack of response was quickly growing more concerning. "Stranger?" you called. "Are you there? Can you talk?"

Still nothing, except for the faint sound of grass being stepped on, like someone was shifting their weight. Odile huffed. "You go right around the tree, I'll go left--"

"Go away!"

You jumped at the voice. The kid's description really hadn't done it justice, mostly because it was inhuman, crackling in a way you'd never expect from a human throat. But after the brief shock, you moved to stop Odile from going around the tree. "M'dame, wait."

"What?"

"I think they're scared." The way the kid had described it, the voice had been threatening, but the kid had probably already been scared himself. Underneath the strange crackling, the intonation, the way the pitch had wavered… it sounded like the stranger was panicking. You didn't want to make that worse; you might force a confrontation where none was needed. "Listen," you said, raising your voice again. "You don't have to come out right now if you don't want to, but we still need to talk. Okay?"

"…Fine."

"First things first, are you all right?"

"That's your first concern?" The crackling voice was tight, almost sarcastic.

"Um, yeah?" It was now. "Look, people have been getting worried about you hiding out here, but… it's not like you've been trying to scare anyone, right? You've been keeping to yourself."

"I didn't mean to scare that kid. I haven't scared anyone else, unless people are scared of beautiful stars!"

So the stranger…didn't consider themself a person, but a star? Like in the sky?

"People are, in fact, a bit wary of strange stars after the King," Odile pointed out, which! 100% true!! But not something to point out right now!

The stranger immediately got upset, the crackling in their voice sharpening. "So, what, the King has a monopoly on stars now? Isn't he dead? It's not like you beat him with the power of friendship. Oh, King, I'm sure there's a reason you're doing this! We don't have to fight!" The stranger scoffed. "I know that didn't happen."

"The King is dead," Odile confirmed. "You didn't know?"

"You think I can just walk into town and ask questions looking like this?"

You and Odile looked at each other. Some of the tightness left Odile's posture. "They're acting scared," she said, and you knew from that word choice she hadn't ruled out yet the possibility that it was only an act. But she was willing to give the benefit of the doubt for now. "Isabeau, you're better at this, you talk to them."

…Well. Hm. They didn't seem all right, but they also hadn't answered straight when you asked about that. Maybe they weren't ready to talk about themself yet. "If you've got any other questions, we can try answering?" you offered. "I'm Isabeau, he/him, and M'dame Odile uses she/her."

"…They/them for me."

Odile arched an eyebrow. "But no name?"

"No, my turn for questions!" the strange voice said, but then it fell silent for a moment. Were they still scared, or struggling to think of any? You folded your arms and waited, not wanting to rush them. "You're…two of the Saviors. Is, um, the Housemaiden--Housemaiden Mirabelle okay?"

The question made Odile frown. "Why do you ask?"

"It's a little strange that you came out here to talk to me without her, if you thought I might have anything to do with the King. Not that I do!" the voice said quickly. "Good riddance."

"Three-on-one would be pretty intimidating," you point out. That's exactly the reasoning you would have told Mira if she'd asked to come along, too… but the truth is, she didn't know you were out here. Even though her long quest was done, the stress hadn't disappeared, and Siffrin's condition wasn't helping anyone. You hadn't wanted to toss more on her plate. "We were hoping for a nice talk! Anyway, she's fine." Burnt out, but time would surely help.

Time, and Siffrin getting better.

"And the kid traveling with you? They're fine too?"

They knew about Bonnie? "They're fine too. We kept them away from the fighting."

"I know, but--" The voice stopped abruptly.

"You know?" That…was kind of odd, especially with how quickly they'd shut up, like they hadn't meant to let it slip. You'd reassured more than a couple people that Bonnie didn't actually fight with you, was only tagging along with your group because even if they weren't old enough to fight they were old enough to decide where they wanted to be and they'd made it very clear they'd chase after the group if they were left behind. So the star could have learned that secondhand, but that seemed unlikely if they were afraid to approach people with their appearance. Along with the slip, it made you wonder… "Did you, um. Did we meet you before the Body Craft? …Is that Body Craft?" You cringed a little. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but--"

"It's okay. I, uh, I've been told how I look right now."

You immediately felt a pit open up in your stomach. They hadn't seen for themself how they looked? There was no way this could be Body Craft, then, at least not the way you knew it. No one in their right mind would Body Craft themselves without being able to track the process. But 'right now' implied there had been a Change. Odile had caught that too, her expression torn between wariness and alarm.

#loop #odile #isabeau #in stars and time #in stars and time spoilers

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satansamwriting · 1 year

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The sleeping headcanons were so cute <3 Can I get hcs of Sub-Zero (and other characters of your choosing) with a gn s/o that can manipulate metal?

Mk Sub-zero with an s/o that can manipulate metal

Hello! I'm glad you enjoyed the sleeping headcanons, I might do other characters if people ask for it. ^^

I'm sorry it took me a while to finish this headcanon, had some stuff to deal with irl. Anyway, I did not know which sub-zero you wanted between Bi-Han or Kuai Liang so I went with my favorite icy boy.

Sadly, I did not write about another character because as you'll see, this headcanon is quite long. I wasn't sure at first how to write someone with the ability to manipulate metal but as I started to write, i got more and more ideas. Hopefully, you'll enjoy the way I decided to go.

I might even continue this in a part 2 or do other characters in another post if people are interested.

Anyway, as always I hope you beautiful people enjoy this headcanon and don't hesitate to send request :)

Disclaimer : English is not my native language, there might be mistakes in this. I apologizes for them.Oh and I'm still fairly knew to Mortal Kombat if you could believe it! I don't know everything there is to know about Mk so if I say thing that don't make sense, I do apologies.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Sub-zero (Kuai Liang)

0o0o0o0o0o0

Ever since you were little, you had the ability to manipulate metal as if it was clay, shaping the element into anything that came into your mind.

This ability came with a strange connection to the elements.

You could sense which metal was present, or if there were flaws or vulnerability upon touching an object.

Your reputation as a blacksmith grew over the years, to no one's surprise.

One day, the SF approached you with a deal to work for them.

The idea of helping to protect Earthrealm made you accept the deal

You almost regretted it once you arrived at their camp.

Too much bad quality metal could be found in the soldiers gears and weapons.

You were astonished that some of those men and women wore what you would consider scrap.

Sadly, even as you voiced your concern to the higher up you were supposed to report to, they seemed to ignore you.

Create weapons and gears for them with the provided materials.

That’s all you were supposed to do.

You met Kuai Liang as you stomped off the tent. Bumping into him by accident, you kept on walking too pissed off to acknowledge the cryomaster.

You were determined to show those assholes how right you were.

Kuai Liang had heard of you before.

He was intrigued by your ability.

Sadly as busy as he was, he didn’t have the time to seek you out

Until one day, the two of you met again

Closed off inside their own little forge the special force had the courtesy to give them, (y/n) spent days waiting for the perfect moment to show everyone the mockery of armour they were wearing as protection. A piece of borrowed chestplate laid on a table in front of them. Scattered around the object were sheets of papers each filled with analysis and ideas. It didn’t take long for them to find the perfect metal to use and with the help of one of their secret contacts, they soon found their table filled with titanium ingots.Days changed into nights as they poured their heart and soul into these new sets of gears, making sure they were exact replicas of what the special force was currently using.

After days of work, news of the Grand Master of the Lin Kuei's visiting spread around the camp. It was said that he was there to train some of the soldiers.Thinking it would be the perfect opportunity, they dusted themselves and carefully put on each piece of the newly improved armour before leaving the forge.

Droplets of rain fell upon the camp turning the dirt ground into mud. Splashing noise accompanied their footsteps as they marched toward the training ground. Soldiers stepped out of their ways as they went.

Sounds of fighting grew louder as they approached and soon they could see the men and women duelling each other under the supervising gaze of the Lin Kuei Grand Master. To their pleasure, the soldiers were also wearing their equipment. (Y/n) eyes roamed around those fighting, searching. One man stood out amongst the others. He was cocky and full of himself. Perfect!

Standing on the sideline, they waited for him to finish his current fight. The man ended the other pretty quickly and even had the audacity to brag about how great he was. A glance toward the cryomancer confirmed that (y/n) was not the only one annoyed by him.

Kuai Liang raised an eyebrow as he watched (y/n) approach the overconfident man. They weren’t part of the training and therefore Liang should’ve asked them to leave. However, the cryomancer was curious about them. Their brief meeting and (y/n) reputation had piqued his interest. He knew of their work outside of the special force but had never seen it first-hand. This was his chance.

“Well well well what do we have here? You came to get your ass kick, blacksmith?”

(Y/n) rolled their eyes as they took a defensive stance in front of the man. Their eyes stared at the chestplate of the man's tactical vest. That was their goal. If it was anything like the one they studied in their forge, that thing was on the verge of breaking.

Unsurprisingly, the man charged toward (y/n) without thinking first. His punches and kicks were easily avoided, offering so many opportunities for (y/n) to touch his chest. Wincing at the poor state of the metal within the protective gear, they backed away.

"You should consider changing that chestplate, it won't protect anymore."

The man scuffed and spat on the ground clearly disregarding their warning.

Heavy rain settled as the two kombatant circled each other, the world surrounding them long forgotten. As they exchanged hit after hit, the man grew annoyed. Contrary to the others he had fought, they had yet to be defeated. Even more, they seemed to anticipate his every move. In one particular vicious attack, (y/n) placed both their hands on their chestplate and raised them to block the incoming punch. The man’s fist collided with a small shield that had somewhat materialised out of nowhere. Growling, he watched as the shield transformed back into (y/n) chestplate.

From his observing post, Kuai Liang crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes were glued to the blacksmith. They had complete mastery of the fight. In someone else’s eyes it wouldn’t appear so, but as he watched (y/n) avoid yet another punch from the soldier, Kuai Liang knew. The blacksmith could have won this fight early on but for some reason kept going.

Ducking to avoid a high kick, (y/n) took a handful of mud. One swift sweep kick, they knocked the man down, throwing the mud in his face, blinding him for a short while.

Swearing left the man’s mouth in plenty as he tried to regain his sight.Distracted, he left his whole chest area unguarded.Using the distraction to their advantage, they landed a powerful punch on the left side of the chestplate.

For a moment, the man stared at them while trying his best not to laugh.Some of the mud slipped down his cheeks.

“Was that the best you could do?”

Standing straight, (y/n) pointed toward his chest, where small cracks started to appear before a large piece of his chestplate fell to the ground. To the man's horror, and amusement of (y/n), his gear broke down completely. Stunted in place, the man failed to notice them approaching, a knife created by the fallen parts in hand. Only with the pressure of the tip of the knife near his heart did he focus back on them.

"Let it be a lesson for you, your arrogance will get you killed. That and the garbage gears the special force is giving you."

Removing their own chestplate, they threw it toward the soldier.

“If you want to survive in the war, pass by my tent. I will make you real gears that will protect your life.Not like those pretty decorations you soldiers are currently wearing.”

They turned toward the Grand Master, bowed politely and left the training ground.

//////

Hours later, a line of soldiers was formed outside of the blacksmith tent. Talk about the poor quality of the soldiers' equipment had spread around the camp like wildfires. Soon, even the higher-ups, who had denied their request, had to break and allow the blacksmith the resources they needed. After days of tireless work, every armour and weapons had been updated, leaving them with no more work.

One cloudless night as (y/n) busied themselves with new weapon design, a man entered their tent. Glancing up from their papers, the blacksmith straightened up and gave the Grand Master a courtesy bow.

“Grand Master, to what do I own your visit?”

Bowing in return, Kuai Liang looked around, his eyes observing the various weapons, guns and gears scattered across the tent. His face as expressionless as ever focused back on them before speaking.

“ You are a great fighter and a talented blacksmith-'' He started while his fingers brushed over a long spear near the entrance of the tent. “The Lin Kuei could benefit from your talent.”

Silence fell between the two only for it to be broken by laughter. From where they stood, (y/n) tried their best to regain their serious posture as they were a bit worried their laughing would be misinterpreted.

“My apologies Grand Master-”

“Kuai Liang.” The cryomancer interjected.

“My apologies Grand Master Liang, my laughing was not to make fun of you. I’m just a bit surprised.”

Leaning against the table behind them, (y/n) crossed their arms over their chest. In the many years they had worked as a blacksmith, they had encountered the Lin Kuei once before. Back then, they didn’t have a specific place to stay and so they had travelled around the world, offering their talent to those who needed it.

It was during their short stay in China that they met the infamous clan. A blizzard had been raging outside that day, making it almost impossible for them to leave their temporary settlement. To their utmost surprise, a man had walked in unbothered by the bad weather. He had offered a job, something that had to do with cyborgs or some short. But (y/n) had declined. The man left shortly after, not before threatening them that they were obliged to accept the offer or die. A day later, words of the blacksmith vanishing spread around the village they had stayed in.

However, that was a long time ago.The man standing here before them was different. He was cold but caring, strict yet open-minded and quite frankly handsome.

“You are not the first Lin Kuei to ask for my talent, if I remember correctly the first one was about cyborgs.”

If (y/n) was meant to see the small flinch traversing Kuai Liang's body, they did not mention it. Uncrossing their arms, they laid their hands on the table in order to appear nonchalant.

“Besides, I thought you guys had trials or something like that before accepting anyone in the clan?”

The cryomancer hummed, his shoulder relaxing a little as his dark brown eyes stared at them.

“Would you consider courtship as trial then?”

Speechless, (y/n) blinked a few times not knowing how to respond to that. Of all the things the Grand Master could have said, flirting was the least expected. Carefully observing Kuai Liang, they noticed the smile the other man was offering them. He seemed pleased by their reaction. Who knew the Lin Kuei Grand Master could be smooth.

“Are you seriously asking me this?” A smile of their own, they went around their desk and stood before the cryomancer. “Consider me intrigued, Kuai Liang. Besides, I heard the Lin Kuei temple was a sight to behold.”

(Y/n) had accepted to join the special force to help protect Earthrealm but left to go help reform a clan thought to be lost. Perhaps, along the way, they would find love.

#mk10 #mk11 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk headcanons #mk x gn reader #mk #mk fandom #Kuai Liang #Kuai Liang x gn reader #Sub-zero #Sub-zero x gn reader #mk sub-zero #mk kuai liang #mk sub zero #sub zero #lin kuei #mk9

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mafuluzx · 6 months

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Hello! Idk if it still doing requests but I just needed to get this idea out there: any of the ninja x magician reader where the reader just has the most riskiest performances ever and has people on the edge of their seats (idk it's just been in my head all day for some reason

Of course! I'm not very fast at writing and have a lot of oneshots at work, but I'll try to write this as best as I can. I really liked the magician idea, but mixing it with some 'dangerous' acts would have made this a bit boring. So I toned it down a bit, and took a more comedic approach to the act.

Also, I just couldn't get myself into the idea of having romance in this, because I liked it as just a platonic thingy, but I tried my best! I also chose Kai for the main focus of this thing, so I guess it kinda counts as a Kai x reader??? But mainly it's just a platonic thingy.

Kai x male! reader.

Set in very early season 1, You'll see why.

Better than magic

So here they were, all five of them. Kai, Cole, Jay, Zane, and of course Little Lloyd Garmadon himself. He was the one who thought of this idea to begin with.

Right next to Mega Monster amusement park was now a huge circus tent and countless of stands were set all around it. There was something for everyone. It went from unfair and way too expensive carnival games to booths with shadow plays and even meet-and-greets with puppeteers and their puppets.

The little boy dressed in his favorite skeleton hoodie jumped up and down and led Zane, the one who decided to actually try to watch over the boy, by the hand all around the carnival.

Meanwhile the three others wondered why their Sensei even allowed them to come here in the first place. Oh well, if they're already at a carnival, might as well take it easy.

Jay and Cole for one were having fun.

"Oh my gosh!!! It's a Fritz Donnegan meet and greet!!" "And check out all these games! Hey, Jay, wanna go throw darts?" "Later, maybe. Wait for me, I have to go shake his hand!!" "Jay, look! A cotton candy stall!!There are so many flavors! Cherry, Blueberry, Popcorn-"

"Popcorn? Is that really a good flavor?" Kai wasn't really that excited. He had wanted to take the time to train, make sure he was in good shape. In the end he was still, against his will, dragged here.

"What? If you don't like popcorn, how about the chili flavor?" Cole asked, as Kai scrunched up his face in disgust.

"No thanks."

"Cole, Kai, look at this!!" An excited yell rang out as Jay ran back to the the two ninja. He lifted his hands up and shoved a picture of Cliff Gordon's face with the words 'For Jay Walker', written in fancy cursive letters.

"I got this from him! And guess what? I actually got to shake his hand!" The blue ninja acted like a kid with a sugar high.

"Nice..." Kai didn't even try to sound excited for Jay. Jay's happy smile turned into a pout, but before he could start whining, Cole spoke up.

"Hey, look at that." Cole said as he pointed to a crowd, a small crowd, but a crowd no less, surrounding a small show stage. It wasn't really much.

Jay immediately hopped over to the stage, as Cole walked after him. Kai let out a sigh before following after them, although reluctantly.

The three actually got to the very front, because there weren't many people around the stage. Some only stayed to watch for a second, before moving onto something else.

"Hey, you three!" A sudden voice called out to them from above, and the three ninja all looked up. Even Kai's eyes widened as he saw a boy, wearing a short cape and a top hat hanging upside down on a tightrope.

"Welcome, welcome! Enjoy the show!" The boy took his hat, which surprisingly didn't fall of his head on it's own, and lifted it off his head as a greeting.

The boy didn't stop to chat, as he noticed someone else joined the crowd, and called out to them, giving another greeting to them as well.

Right after that the boy lifted his hands onto the tightrope and pulled himself up and onto his feet on top of it. Standing up, he lifted his hat, before giving a bow to the few people watching.

"It's an honor performing here today! I've always wanted to perform with a tightrope, although my main strengths are, ah... are- Ah, Achoo!" The boy started off with a speech, before sneezing mid way, 'accidentally' making a dove appear on his hand. Some adults laughed while kids stared in awe.

"Sneezing doves, apparently." The comment just added onto the laughter, before the boy covered his hand with his top hat, and upon removing it, there was no dove in sight!

The boy did many generic magic tricks while walking left and right on the tight rope, nothing special. Well, that's what Kai thought, and his displeased face showed it.

Of course ordinary person could walk a thin tightrope just like that, especially while sneezing out doves and occasionally pulling bunnies out their shoes... I really wish I was kidding.

But it seemed like the boy had noticed Kai's boredom, and he smirked. Suddenly the boy stepped past the tightrope, falling off. A few kids gasped, but the boy caught onto the tightrope with one of his hands at the last second.

Although he was still much higher than the crowd, he was a bit closer to them, and his target, Mr. frowning-at-a-magic-show.

"You, wearing red." The boy pointed to Kai with his free hand, as Kai flinched in surprise.

"Me?" He asked as the boy nodded.

"Yeah, you. Wanna play a little game?" The boy asked, this time using his free hand to dig out a single coin from his pocket.

"No thanks, I'm not really into all this magic things-" Kai wanted to refuse, but his two friends quickly caught him off.

"Whoa, really? Kai, this kinda chance doesn't some often!" "Let's play! Let's play, Kai!" Cole and Jay pressured Kai until he ultimately had to agree.

"Fine."

"Great! It's easy, just guess which hand the coin is in." The boy showed Kai the coin, twisting it around to show there was nothing attached to it.

The boy's hold on the tightrope didn't loosen for a second as he threw the coin up, and caught it with the same hand as he had thrown it. Lastly, he blew gently onto his own clenched fist, before speaking up.

"So, which hand?" The crowd was confused, he had thrown the coin up, the caught it. His other hand hadn't moved an inch. It was impossible to get this one wrong.

"Your free hand, obviously?" Kai held in a scoff, as the boy smiled, and opened his hand.

"Correct!" The crowd was even more silent. But not because the magic trick sucked, but because there was no coin in his hand.

"Uh, where's the coin?" Jay spoke up, as the boy blinked, before turning his hand towards himself, before reacting like he didn't know what was going on.

"Ah! Where did it go? Did I drop it? Did you see where it went?" The questions he showed to the little kids in the audience, who shook their heads, not having seen the boy drop anything.

"Hold, on, I'll find it." The boy quickly spoke, before changing his position to instead hang upside down again, but only by his ankles. He even removed one foot and hung with only one foot as he checked his socks and shoes.

It brought a smile on people's faces, and adults and kids both chuckled before the boy's eyes suddenly fixated on Kai.

"Oh, hey, check behind your left ear, would you?" The boy said, changing back to holding on with both feet.

"My ear?" Kai let out, confused, but still raised his left hand to his ear, when he suddenly felt something cold behind it.

Kai stopped for a second, before pulling out a coin from behind his ear. He hadn't even noticed it was there. When had it gotten there?!

"Ah, thanks!" The boy took the coin from the shocked Kai as kids laughed at the red ninja, while an applause rang out for the boy.

"That was awesome!" "Totally! Too bad Lloyd missed that!" Jay and Cole laughed together as Kai finally broke free of his state of shock, and scoffed.

"It's just a magic trick, nothing special." But the boy had heard Kai's complaint loud and clear.

"Oh? Wanna see something better?" The boy spoke, having once again stood up on the rope. But Kai just scoffed again.

"Unless you can do a handstand up there, I don't think you can do any-" Kai was cut off as the boy jumped, grabbed the tightrope, and pulled himself up into a handstand using the slight momentum it gave.

"-better." Kai finished once the boy was in a completely still handstand on the tightrope. The crowd all clapped before (y/n) suddenly swung, and did an actual flip before landing on the stage, before bowing.

"I'll be here all day, so no need to worry! But I'll have to take a ten minute break now! I hope you enjoyed!" He spoke to the large crowd, who all gave an applause once more before they scattered, leaving to do something else.

"Oh, Kai, was it?" The boy asked when the three ninja were about to leave.

"Yeah. I really underestimated you, didn't I?" Kai finally admitted, as the boy gave a small laugh and a nod.

"It's fine, Magician don't usually walk on tightropes to begin with." The boy commented on his own performance as Kai noticed Jay and Cole take off to somewhere else. Probably the weird cotton candy stall.

"But thank you for co-operation, how about I do one more, just for you?" The boy offered, and took his hat off, before offering it to Kai, the bottom facing up.

"Put your hand in." Kai was skeptical, but the boy had been nice to him all this time, although he himself had been rolling his eyes and scoffing at his tricks.

Kai put his hand in, when he felt something, and grabbed it. Pulling his hand out, he saw the thing he had grabbed was rose.

"What's thi-?" Kai couldn't get to ask anything about it though, for he heard Jay and Cole calling his name from further away. The boy smiled, pulling the hat away from Kai and stepping off of the stage.

"My name's (y/n), by the way." The boy also put his hand into the top hat, digging out a business card, and shoving it in Kai's hands.

"Also, your friends are a good audience." (y/n) said, giving Kai's shoulder a pat before the boy left to go on his break.

Kai smirked, before running to his friends with a rose and a business card in his hands.

#ninjago #ninjago x reader #x male reader #x male y/n #lego ninjago #kai x male reader #kai x reader #oneshot #ninjago kai

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