#she is starting to worry the book will seem too topical because things Keep Happening | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zileans-big-cl0ck · 11 months

Note

hello ive never sent a request b4 not sure how this works pls bare with me too 😿😿 ive seen that u write for pyke and camille (my two fav characters) and i was wondering if u could write anything sfw/nsfw for one of them because theres barely any content for them, ty in advance 😸

✦–Pyke & Camille General Headcanons.✦ (SFW & NSFW)

✦I see someone’s taste never misses, Camille and Pyke as favourite characters!

✧ prompt: ✧ just feeling inspired today to actually write.

✧ champions: ✧ Camille, the Steel Shadow; Pyke, the Bloodharbor Ripper.

✧ reader: ✧ gender neutral.

✧ author’s note: ✧ I feel like Camille isn’t my champion to write tbh, I absolutely cannot caught her character; please pardon me. PYKE ON THE OTHER HAND- But, really, you don’t even know how I’ve been DYING to write something for my favourite boy Pyke. Ignore any mistakes; as much as I enjoyed writing this, I’m really tired :sob:.

masterlist

✦Camille, SFW:

Maybe she is a dominant, noble woman, but you still should valet her, treat he with the greatest respect. That amuses her.

Taking care of her well-being is your sacred order. The lady must be always pleased, cherished.

Of course she can treat herself right. She is a proud, self-respecting woman. But that doesn’t mean she does not enjoy making you submit, serve and obey.

Camille treats you, like you deseve to be treated - like an adorable pet that belongs to her.

And she rewards you generously, always making you accompany her, even if it means sharing with you and her wealthy co-workers the same secret informations of her important work. That is Camille’s way to bestow you with her trust, which is shared like a true gift, making you her little secretary and confidant.

She always keeps you near herself in case anything worrisome happened - or in case someone decided to profane her delicate belonging. Camille is a jealous and controlling woman who holds a firm border between her partner and anyone who may cross their path; she openly fears that the others, the vociferous people, may have bad influence on you. And you must stay as her property, and only hers.

Unfortunately, this entails with her sometimes treating you infantile, like you are not fully responsible. But don’t worry, it also means that she is always ready to do something for you, even if it is the hardest, most cumbersome work that requiers a professional. Because that’s who she is - a capable, deadly woman.

✦Pyke, SFW:

He always watches you from a distance. Pyke is a protective lover, but he desires to stay unseen by the others, all because of his well-known esteem as the Bloodharbor Ripper, the doom of captains. Even if you are not aware of his presence, he is alwats with you, stalking from the shadows, creeping around somewhere between the realms of the dead and mortals like a ghost, keeping an eye on you in case anything disturbed your peace. He would never stand anyone troubling you, which unfortunately can happen anytime in this perilous land. He is almost like a guardian angel, scared for your life and positive to take care of it, but cursed himself.

When he isn’t working, he likes reading. And I will not elaborate on that; Pyke has literally a Shakespeare quote in his own voicelines. He loves reading and you comming up with new book titles and recommendations for him, since he doesn’t have much time exploring this topic himself - his work consumes most of his sacred time, which he divides only between the ardous hunt for his victims and - you.

Though he appreciates your interest in his work, your questions about his day, even if their seem to serve no higher purpose than to start a conversation, he doesn’t want you to know all about his job. Not the things he has done to fulfill the meaning of his afterlife and cross all the names from the manifest. As Pyke came to conclusion, he might be unsure of your possible reaction to him being a killer, which you probably know either way, just never saw it on your eyes. At least he took care of it, to never commit such a dirty work before you. It’s not like he didn’t give you his whole trust, but you seeing his murderous persona might change your feelings towards him- that’s what he believes. And moreover, you might not want to see him how much pleasure he takes from killing.

He would never want you to risk your safety in order to try and get any information about his past, if you ever came up with idea so preposterous. Even if you were convinced that you might get into your hands a piece of knowledge that was out of reach for Pyke for years, maybe even decades. Of course he had shared with you the scraps of memories he still remembered, but there was never nothing solid, declaiming a consistent story. And he stopped caring about it long ago, entombing all the lost feelings in exchange for a new life (well, afterlife), new purpose, new emotions, even if they were ment to be irrelevant forever. Pyke befriended the truth - he, his new self, was never ment to meet with the man he was once before. Even if you were sweet enough, determined, to try and fight, he would turn you off - it didn’t matter if he couldn’t even remember it.

But he hoped it didn’t make you think that he didn’t trust you. He always answers your questions without keeping any bloody details to himself, just doesn’t tend to cover the subject by himself.

✦Camille, NSFW:

The first rule to obey: refer to Camille only as ”Ma’am”, ”My Lady” or, eventually, if she lets you, ”mommy”, so she could jovially call you her pet. A good, obedient little one, who can follow her around.

She would show you to her family, acquaintances, or co-workers with a proud, lustful look. She owns you not only so she could command you, but also to show a little off, to parade with her affable pet.

But you will always remain as her little one, the one under, the once she could crush, quite literally.

She loves the control she wields. Camille is a competent person who clearly deserves her position in the social hierarchy, same as under the cover of blankets. Or just thin walls of her office, where she also adores having you weak before herself.

She often wants you to wear revealing clothes, so the others could trace their lustful gazes, unnoticed as first, but over you. It is a perilous game - she always takes whatever she wants and her feelings are deep, sharp and adamant like blades, incandescent like fire. But you are tantalizing for her, especially when trying to get rid of woeful surrounding.

Camille would never let anyone else touch you, not even get close to you, but how she enjoys watching other people desiring you, yet not being able to ever caught your attention, as your heart belongs to Camille and only her.

Walking around her apartmnet nude, pitiful, with remorse in your eyes, is a sudden turn on for her. She knows you taunt her, tantalizing by the move of your hips, the place where she wants to dig her nails in while putting you in your place, right under her.

Her legs are obviously her deadliest weapon, but also the sweetest gift she can offer. She wants your head between them, squized and trapped in something between a full of pleasure, hot moment and a bewildering threat of her scissors-like blades.

Oh, how she enjoys crushing you under herself, sitting, rolling her hips just to make you squeak, beg and cry for more. And for a opportunity to breathe, as she toys with your fear.

Camille uses her voice to order you around, as she expects unquestionable obedience. The cybernetic, blue lights of her eyes never leave you, always scanning, petrifying, searching.

She never reaches her climax first. She can hold her pleasure back, just until your own release, just to see you succumb to her will and her orders. Only then Camille lets herself cum too, her moans being the sweetest reward you could get.

✦Pyke, NSFW:

What comes first, is that he is not needy at all. Even if Pyke desires touch, he would never willingly admit it, claiming that he is a ruthless murderer. He doesn’t need anything so prosaic.

So you are the one bestowed with the great honor to initiate sex.

And when it actually comes to it? He is absolutely melting, so quickly turned on. Though he wouldn’t admit that, again.

And what turns him on the quickest is probably you admiring him, tracing your fingers over his tattooed arms, your body near his chest, pulsing with pure life, so innocent in its vitality. Because it is something he lacks and therefore - desires with curiosity.

And though it might seem unusual for someone like him - bodyworshipping. An absolute lover for this one, especially when you praise or compliment.

He gets hot very quickly, which always makes him curse under his breath; especially whenever you test his patience. Because of his protectivness, it isn’t unusual of him to grab you with one of his hands onto his lap, always looking for an opportunity to touch you and to be touched, to have you really close. Just to have your beating heart near his quiet presence. Oh, and he is never immune to your teasing, even the slighest move of your hips, even your fingertips brushing his bare chest, is everything to make him grunt with approval.

The sensation of your soft skin, so different from the harsh world around, the fearsome depths, his disgusting prey made from men, intrigues him, alongside with the sick fascination with the contrast between you - a mortal that if he hurts, will surely suffer, and him - a shadow of the past, a revenant, whose heart doesn’t beat anymore.

But he fears you escaping him, like his victims always try. So he pins you, either to the bed below you or any other surface, making sure that you can not hide or run away. Maybe even ties you, but holding you by your wrists with his firm grip until you fully comprehends that you are trapped, usually works.

Despite Pyke’s protectivness, he is nothing close to being gentle in bed. He doesn’t even remember the word gentle anymore, therefore it is natural to treat you they way he thinks is satisfying. It's not like he is brutal, but he takes unimaginable pleasure from pinning your body, much smaller in comparison to his own, by his bare hands sculped with tattoos with force, to pull you hair and to have you whimpering into pillows.

Let him choke you. He is fascinated by the thrill of holding your life in his hands, the same hands that killed countless of men, now showing mercy to someone so dear to him, fragile and mellow. A person he could never harvest the life from, but still takes a sadistic kind of pleasure from playing with this idea. He could do anything to you, because you trusted him, but he won’t cross your boundaries - and he would never let anyone else do that.

Whenever you turn pale under him, white from fear, his gaze stalks covetously, devouring and claiming. But you can read nothing from his face, even if he takes his mask off, as he stays unmoved - but not stoic, he was never a philosopher. Rather in awe, like a conqueror having the key to his soul beneath him.

Your shaky breathing is tantalizing, when you struggle to inale, seeking mercy with your pitful eyes. Because he prefers them on himself, when gorgeous pupils trace his moves, fixed on his body, proudly towering over you.

Pyke is also well aware of the impact that his voice has on you. He is a wraith of his past self, yet he kept his deep, throaty voice that makes you shiver and obey.

Therefore he is suprisingly good at dirty talking, making the voice a great advantage.

Pyke can’t help himself and when with you - doesn’t hold back. Your presence, you squeezing around him, moaning, letting him do these things to you, doesn’t let him last for too long. Even with being the bloody killer, you are his only weakness and therefore - the ultimate form of pleasure, when he can do nothing against your charm, the muffled sounds you let out and the hot atmosphere. Often cums before you, which doesn’t mean he is done.

May be also a little egoistic becausae of the ignorance of your pleas to be more gentle. Just a little.

Also a fan of drunk sex, Pyke is a pirate after all. It’s probably in his blood.

#✦demosthenes writes #league of legends #league of legends x reader #lol #lol x reader #pyke #camille #league of legends camille #league of legends pyke #pyke x reader #camille x reader

62 notes · View notes

religion-is-a-mental-illness · 1 year

Text

By: Andrew Doyle

Published: May 4, 2023

What happened to the art of disagreement? In 2017, I addressed this very question in my stand-up show, Thought Crimes, at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. My main topic was the aftermath of the Brexit vote and how so many of my friends had developed a strange new determination to reduce all political disputes to a matter of good vs evil, with those who voted to leave the EU falling firmly in the latter camp. I felt there was something inherently amusing about this sudden surge of mass infantilism.

I performed the show every evening during the fringe at The Stand comedy club, and I very much enjoyed working with such a pleasant and professional team. I remember, on one occasion, chatting to a member of staff who completely disagreed with my political views. The conversation was stimulating and, above all, amiable. Had I suggested at the time that, just a few years later, a show at this same venue would be cancelled because members of staff found the opinions of those involved offensive, she would have laughed. I’m confident that nobody at The Stand, either performers or staff, would have considered this a remote possibility. Surely it would be absurd for a comedy club, of all places, to reject the principle of free speech?

Yet this is precisely what happened this week when The Stand cancelled the booking of SNP politician Joanna Cherry, who had been scheduled to appear as part of the club’s ‘In Conversation With’ series. Cherry is a lesbian who campaigned against Section 28, and has recently been vocal about the threat to women’s rights and single-sex spaces posed by the rise of gender-identity ideology. This is her thoughtcrime.

If I were keeping a tally of Things I Never Thought Would Happen, it would by now have grown too long to maintain. When I performed that show in 2017, I had assumed that I was observing a momentary glitch, and that within the year everyone would be shaking their heads and laughing about their brief bout of hysteria. I was wrong. The insane tribalism of the Brexit vote was merely a symptom of a much more worrying trend, and we have since allowed ourselves to descend into a Manichean world of angels and devils.

My book, The New Puritans: How the Religion of Social Justice Captured the Western World, is my attempt to grapple with this disturbing new reality. A new paperback edition has been published this week, and I had hoped that by this point, it would already have started to seem out of date. In truth, the problems I describe in the book are accelerating. Novels by Roald Dahl, PG Wodehouse and Agatha Christie have since been rewritten by ‘sensitivity readers’ (newspeak for ‘censors’). The Irish government is currently passing new hate-speech laws that are similarly draconian to those passed by the Scottish government in 2021. Prestigious scientific journals are publishing pseudoscience in order to uphold this new ideology, too. Only this week the Scientific American ran a piece entitled ‘Here’s why human sex is not binary’, illustrated with an image of the male and female gametes that prove that it is.

It’s difficult to keep up with these baffling developments. Most of us have noticed the rise of this new ideology that is now dominant in all of our major cultural, educational, political and corporate institutions. We can see that its impact is divisive, regressive and illiberal, and yet it describes itself using progressive-sounding terminology, such as ‘social justice’, ‘anti-racism’ and ‘equity’. When language becomes unmoored from meaning, we are all at risk of mistaking change for progress.

We have seen that the disciples of this new religion are pushing for more and more censorship, whether that be through the cancellation of comedians, the deletion of potentially offensive scenes in old television shows, or stronger ‘hate speech’ laws. We have seen women physically assaulted for standing up for their sex-based rights. We have seen how anyone who questions the new orthodoxies jeopardises their career prospects and risks being publicly shamed. The existence of what we now call ‘cancel culture’ is often denied by those who indulge in it the most, but its list of casualties expands by the day.

Those of us who are taking a stand against these cultural revolutionaries are often told that we should just ignore them. Who cares if a few zealots are demanding that we attend ‘unconscious bias’ training sessions? Who cares if civil servants and teachers and staff at the BBC are being encouraged to announce their pronouns in emails and at the beginning of meetings? Who cares if the Ministry of Defence is holding LGBTQIA+ coffee mornings to discuss pansexuality? If we let them get on with it, the logic goes, all of this will just go away.

But this is very wrong. If we ignore these developments, the culture warriors won’t fade away – they’ll win. These activists are promoting an authoritarian creed, and are doing untold damage to our world, while believing they are making it better. If your toddler starts smashing up the crockery, you don’t just politely wait for it to finish. Sometimes you have to intervene in order to prevent further damage.

I wrote The New Puritans in the hope that the book would become obsolete. Judging from recent events, this won’t be happening any time soon.

#Andrew Doyle #authoritarianism #woke authoritarianism #The New Puritans #gender ideology #queer theory #cancel culture #sensitivity reader #censorship #woke #wokeism #cult of woke #wokeness as religion #wokeness #religion is a mental illness

21 notes · View notes

thearchivistsjournal · 1 year

Text

Day 299,

Morning thought: It occurs to me that I asked Cass about having friends her own age last rainy season too and didn’t get an answer then either. With the age range of the classes each season, the oldest kids in this class would have been taking lessons at the same time as Cass at one point, but I don’t think I’ve ever noticed them showing much familiarity in that way. Then again, they would have been at opposite age ranges of the cohort and most of the friend groups seem to cluster with those of about the same age.

I find myself torn between asking Cass’s parents about her lack of friends and just letting the matter drop. On the one hand, I want to respect her privacy, on the other hand, now that I’ve got the thought in my head I find myself worrying about her.

*******

When Cass arrived to help get the classroom ready for the day I attempted to apologize for anything I might have asked or said yesterday that I shouldn’t have. She brushed it off and said not to worry about it. I am still worrying about it, but I let it drop.

The more unexpected conversation with her happened hours later as we were cleaning up for the day after the children had all left. Out of the blue Cass spoke up and suggested that we try going into Cloud Tower next dry season. Not try to go up so high we disappear or anything, but just step inside at least.

When I asked what brought this on she said that if we were going to spend a season keeping our heads down so that Theo thinks we “learned our lesson” after last time and doesn’t interfere, then when we do finally do something big it should be something really big because we probably won’t be able to get away with that twice.

I had to concede that I follow the logic there. There’s still the matter of logistics though. We don’t really have a boat and if we even hint at what we want one for then Theo’s sure to make life difficult for us. And I can’t imagine Cass’s parents will be okay with her going on that expedition. Helping me travel to a magic spring for healing or spending a couple of weeks on an island that goes on a fixed course and comes back home are not quite the same as going into a strange mechanical tower that most people don’t even like to talk about even though it’s impossible not to see on a daily basis.

Cass’s response was that we don’t have to tell anyone or get anyone’s permission if we just build our own boat and/or use Maiko’s when she comes back. I appreciate that she said “when” and not “if”.

Still, I didn’t feel great about the prospect of going behind people’s backs like that. Also, neither of us know how or possess the skills for building a boat.

To the latter point she pointed out that I live in a library and to the former she said that we’re already kind of doing that anyway.

Ultimately I wound up tabling further discussion on the topic until we get Lin and Vernon in here in a few days to look at the book/chant transcripts. If (and I emphasized the “if” to her) we do this, they’ll inevitably be involved and so we should get their buy-in before we commit to planning anything.

In truth, I think I just wanted to change the subject because for some reason it was making me uneasy. Am I starting to adopt that “tower fear” shared by most villagers? More likely it’s just my more general fear of committing to anything big that I wasn’t expecting. And now that I’m writing I find myself wondering if Cass brought this up to shift my attention away from her apparent lack of friends. If she did, it certainly worked. For a while anyway. Now I’ve just got two big things weighing on my mind that I need to make decisions about.

<==Previous Next==>

1 note · View note

shadyteacup · 3 years

Text

Boundaries

Dazai Osamu x fem!Reader

Warnings: spoilers for the bsd ova(very slight mentions of Aya), fluff to angst.

Word count: 1120

Laughter could be heard coming from behind the door to your office. It was late in the evening, most of the ADA members had gone home. But you stayed back with a colleague, who had offered to help you with your backlog. He was more of a distraction, though. Not that you would ever point it out to him. You loved his company. Maybe you loved it a little too much.

“Kunikida-kun had practically adopted that child, had it not been for her to ask his hand in marriage.”, Dazai mused, making you snort and shake your head in surprise.

“She asked him to marry her? Why?”

Dazai grinned as he remembered what had happened, reciting it for you.

“Apparently, someone was into heroic men.”

You giggled, feeling bad for poor Kunikida.

“Do you know why he said no to her?”, Dazai asked, grasping onto your attention once more.

“Because she’s too young, of course!”

“Nope!”

You gasped, horrified at the thought of the blonde not minding the young girl's age.

“Well, she didn’t meet 31 of the 58 criteria he had set for his ideal spouse.”

“You have got to be kidding me! He said that?!”

“He did!”

You laughed on, weirded out by how Kunikida even considered the poor child as a potential partner, and horrified that she actually met 27 criteria.

Dazai watched you wrap your head around his partner’s actions with an intensity he never portrayed for others. Well, he did inspect everyone around him with fierce logic and sincerity, constantly assessing potential dangers, and guessing their next moves and motives, but he had never spent even a second to admire and appreciate someone's laugh. It was funny how he observed you, but never judged you. He judged almost everyone, every day. Nothing slipped by him. Yet, he never seemed to be able to judge you or guess your next moves. You always managed to leave him speechless with your unpredictability. It was a few of the things that drew him to you.

You were equally drawn to him, and he was aware of that. He had that effect on women, and you were no different. If you were any other woman, he would have led you on, had some fun, and then left. He hated commitment and often found himself bored after spending time with someone for a while longer than one night. It was all too easy, he thought. He could easily predict what was going on in his female companions' minds and hearts and could read their emotions like an open book. Everything became redundant and monotonous after a while, and he realized way too early on, that it was better to leave before it got that way. Because that way, he would leave with good memories, rather than memories of boredom and frustration. Leave when it was ripe, not when it starts to rot, he kept telling himself. But with you, as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t take a chance. He refused to get close to you even once because he didn’t want to leave you. He didn’t want to hurt you. So he ignored his feelings and pretended to be just a friend, to keep you safe. He had to push you away.

“Earth to Dazai .”

Dazai blinked at your words. You mentally applauded yourself for catching the Dazai Osamu spacing out. He was almost always on alert, he never let his walls down. This also alarmed you, though, as it could mean something was wrong.

“Ah, sorry about that!”, he grinned, already ready with a new funny incident to entertain you with.

“Is something wrong?”, you asked, worry all over your face.

“No, nothing's wrong, y/n kun! Anyways, do you know-“

“No, something is wrong, Dazai, you never space out. What is it?”, you pushed the subject further, hoping to help the brunet.

Dazai sighed. He knew you were a stubborn person who wouldn’t let go of the topic. He could sidestep your questions, but you were too smart and would see right through his act. He also knew you would push it further if he did so, and his constant denial would leave you hurt.

“I was just thinking, that is all.”

“Oh.”, you said, looking away.

Your people skills annoyed Dazai. Why couldn’t you just ignore his reactions and not be so smart? You now knew that something was wrong and that he didn’t trust you enough to tell you what it is.

“Can we pretend I didn’t space out, and go back to talking about how Kunikida-kun is the funniest human on this planet?”, Dazai pleaded, hoping to get you to give up on him.

When you nodded and said a quick, “Sure!”, he didn’t know how to feel. He wanted you to give up on him, but now that you had, it ate him up. You never gave up on him, always bombarding him with questions and not letting go until he found a way to give you a half-true answer, that satisfied you. He would then spend the next hour getting advice and multiple offers of help from you, each of which he would politely turn down. What he didn’t know, was that you saw through his half-lies every time, but insisted on helping him out anyway, hoping that some of it was true. At least that way, you could help him somehow.

Today, you hadn’t done any of that, but had given up on him, so easily. It left him speechless, once again.

“Dazai. I won’t ask again if you don’t want to tell me, but you’re spacing out again.”

Dazai merely frowned at your words. When did you start giving him space? You never respected his boundaries, and he liked that you cared enough to push past them.

“Look, I don’t know if you do therapy, but if you are ready to give it a try, I have a friend who’s a psychiatrist. Do you want her number?”

“Ah, no thank you. I’m good, y/n kun.”

You gave him a half-smile and looked at the time.

“Man, it’s so late. And I haven’t completed filling a single file.”, you said, sighing at the ominously large pile of papers on your desk.

“No thanks to you, idiot.”, you laughed as you pat Dazai’s head, before packing up your things.

“You going to take the train?”, you asked him once you were ready to leave, and he shook his head no, before waving you goodbye.

“You go on ahead, I have a few things to do.”, he said, hoping that you would offer to stay longer.

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Dazai.”

His heart shattered into a million pieces. He had succeeded in pushing you away.

@anarchy-black-cat @707xn @evalynanne @b-i-t-t-i-e-s @kuraxmasha @syynnaaah @roserosie05 @mikasa-stan-account @alittlesimp @greenshirtimagines @paradise-creator @kiyokoxd @ranposlover @the-foreigner @sakikoshi@h3xa413a @sukunas-cult-leader @ilOvedaydreaming @del1111 @craftypeachmoneyhound @notquitehereorthere @mikasa-stan-account @kenmasbbygrl @alphaofdarkness @duhsies @cees-sims @the-foreigner @uglapuglamuglafugla @sugarandsoft @jadegreenimmortality @flanelsantito @shiny84244 @one-hell-of-otaku-is-here@missrown @requiem626k @sukunas-cult-leader @ilovedaydreaming @roserosie05 @mikasa-stan

support me♡

taglist:

@ukiyoo0430 @boineko @missrown @munakara @dazaiaiko @ravenina14

want to be added to my taglist? Comment under this post

295 notes · View notes

yoooespinosa · 3 years

Note

could you please write a draco x reader fic, where the reader is hopelessly in love with draco, and she's not afraid to show it. but draco doesn't feel the same. and draco being draco, he rejects the reader with no remorse. then when the reader finally comes to the realization that she deserves better, she started seeing new people (not necessarily dating, but more like talking), then that's when draco feels a bit jealous now that the reader isn't all over him anymore. the rest is up to you, love! just something really angsty, you could end it in any way you'd like.

also, sidenote. you're an amazing writer and i love you!!

a/n: Thank you for your request! ily <3

To say you had a crush on Draco Malfoy, was an understatement.

You couldn't help it, you couldn't just stop the feelings you developed every time he came around.

When he walked into the room it was butterflies breaking out of their cage, palms growing sweaty and your heart racing so fast you were scared you'd be able to see its indentions.

It was scary at first, to have such feelings at only thirteen years old. So you did your best to ignore them. You did your best to stay out of his way.

That only worked for so long.

When you are friends with Draco and the people that surround him, it becomes very hard to stay out of his path.

So it was only inevitable that your crush on him would become so much more. Especially as the years went on.

He hadn't made it much easier. Sometimes you felt as if, maybe, he returned your feelings. How could you think otherwise? With the way he walked with you to class, carried your books at times and spent time with you. Just you. Alone.

How could you not fall in love with him.

With all that simmering in you, you finally let it out. You made your affections obvious, not afraid to show Draco how you felt for him. You had thought it was welcomed. You thought that the feelings would be returned.

It seemed as though he could only tolerate you for so long. Yes, that was the right word for it, the only thing he had for you was toleration.

Your shoes sounded on the stone under you, on your way to the Slytherin common room. You had just got out of detention with professor Snape. You suppose it was well deserved, you had seen Draco almost put the wrong ingredient in his potion, so you being you had wandered to his table and helped him, much to Snapes dismay.

Whispering the password, you made your way through the dim passage. Chattering of people from all years and faint laughter was heard all around.

You spotted your friends right away, seated by the green flamed fireplace, as usual.

"She just can't take a hint." You heard Draco grumble, you paused your steps, you didn't mean to eavesdrop but it seemed as if your feet had a mind of its own.

"Wait," Blaise closes the book he had in his hold. "who are we talking about again?"

Pansy sighs, seeming they had been on the topic for some time. "We're talking about y/n."

Your brows furrow. Going back to the first thing you heard Draco say, she just can't take a hint, what was that supposed to mean. What hint?

"Why can't you just tell her how you feel?" Theo adds, his voice is laced with annoyance, maybe this isn't the first time they've talked about this.

"I thought how I felt would be obvious enough, without having to say anything." He huffs.

"Well," Theo sighs. "apparently not."

You were becoming anxious. What were they talking about and what exactly was Draco feeling? There was streak of hope in you, maybe he'd confess right here that he felt the same.

"What do you suggest I say then, oh-wise-one?" Draco asks teasingly.

"Easy, just say exactly what you tell us." He clears his throat dramatically, adopting a mock version of his voice, "Y/n, you have to be one of the most annoying girls, I have ever had the dissatisfaction of meeting. Please, oh please take the hint and leave me alone because these attempts at getting at me are getting more pathetic each time." He finishes with a clumsy curtsy.

The other Slytherins try to stifle their laughs.

You hadn't even noticed the gasp that escaped your throat until four heads turned to your direction.

"Y/n, I didn't kn-" You cut of Theo's words and apologetic stare.

"Is that true?" You ask Draco, your voice low, laced with hurt. Your nose was stinging and your bottom lip hung heavy, but you refused to cry in front of them. You wouldn't give them another weakness to laugh about.

Draco managed to keep his face blank, no emotions shining through. He shrugged, "Pretty much summed it up."

You almost flinched. He didn't even care about the hurt those words brought you.

You left without a look back. Leaving behind your friends call of your name. They weren't the ones you wanted an apology from. They had known how much you felt for him and didn't even bother telling you that it was definitely not mutual. They even laughed, like it was a joke, like your heart was a comedic topic.

The cold air hit your face, freezing against the tear stain tracks. You sat on a lone stone bench in the court yard, letting those tears make a home on your cheeks.

It wasn't obvious--his dislike to you. If it was, you would have gave up long ago. But a part of you felt that there was hope and you had chased after that.

Why couldn't he have just told you when you first let your affections known, it seemed that he had encouraged it back then, with lingering touches and soft smiles.

Looking back now, you notice that those advantages had slowly disappeared. You had been too caught up in his silky hair, those gray eyes filled with mirth and mischief, his angular face with high bones that no one could compare to, that you hadn't notice everything was unrequited.

A sick part of you even felt honored to have your heart broken in the hold of his beautiful hands, the part that saw him do no wrong.

Maybe that was the first problem, you put him on a pedestal, so high up you weren't able to see anything negative of him. You weren't able to see his cruel reality of his feelings towards you.

And he didn't even seem sorry. He didn't even look bothered by the damage of his words.

You were so nice and considerate to him. You would support him at every quidditch game, cheer the loudest even when he lost. You bought him presents for every one of his birthdays and even Christmas, each one sentimental and thoughtful. You had comforted him when he got those letters, that he despised, from his father. You had voiced encouragements when he showed a little tell sign of his insecurities. You had been there for him.

And he treats you like this, like you can be so easily dismissed. You didn't deserve that, you didn't deserve to be called pathetic for having normal feelings and then being laughed at for it.

The longer you sat on that cold bench, the angrier you got. A bitter feeling growing in your stomach, melting away those knots.

You wasted all this time and effort on some guy who didn't even deserve it, some guy who didn't appreciate you. It wasn't fair.

"Hey, you okay?" A familiar voice sounded through your revelations.

You looked up and met green eyes framed with circular glasses.

"Yeah. I was just thinking." You mumbled, the bitter taste was stuck on your tongue, you wanted rid of it.

"Mind if I sit and think with you?" Harry asked, he was nervously scratching the back of his neck, smiling warmly at you.

You offered him a smile, welcoming his genuineness. "Go ahead."

He sat there with you for hours. Surrounded by the sound of wind. It was nice and comfortable. The bitter feeling leaving you completely. You were content now, even if you could still feel the ache in your arms from holding onto Draco for so long.

Weeks had passed. Weeks of no signs of you. The first week Draco hadn't been worried, a little curious, but that was all. The longer it went on though, he became a little more than curious. Not because he cared, cause he didn't, just that if something happened to you, it would be his fault. His rejection was the reason you ran off like a fool to who knows where.

Which is the only reason he went looking for you. He already got a lot of shit from the others, he didn't need more problems stacking up.

He checked all of your favorite places. Starting with that tree down by the black lake that you enjoyed to lean on and watch the sun go down, the sunset wasn't near so he should've known you would not have been there.

He then went to the gardens, there was a bench there that was next to a small pond. It was filled with odd creatures and was home to your favorite flowers, lotus's. You weren't there either.

Lastly, he went to a certain abandoned hall. You had to be there. You went there to be alone with your thoughts, you had taken him with you there a few times. There was a big window there with a thick ledge, streams of sunlight beamed through and tiny rainbows would reflect on the opposite wall due to the cracks on said window.

He heard you before he saw you. A soft laugh reverberating through the empty hall, a laugh he had always found annoying. Hearing it now though, just made him want to get closer to you.

So he did, walking with light footsteps. He froze, you were not alone. Sitting there in the space he once accompanied, was Harry fucking Potter. What kind of sick joke was this?

Why were you sitting with him? And does that mean you just laughed at something he said?

Your laugh sounded through again, once piercing now melodic. It was a bitter feeling, Potter shouldn't have the honor of dragging that sound out of you, he shouldn't even witness it.

Draco left the hall before either of you saw him, he needed to get himself in check.

More weeks passed. Weeks of you hanging out with Potter. You were doing things with him that you had done with Draco.

It was on purpose, you had to be doing it on purpose. You were simply trying to make him jealous and it was annoyingly working.

But how could you be doing that when you didn't even look back to see a reaction.

Draco didn't know what to think. He didn't even know what to feel, or more like let himself feel. Something had changed in the weeks you were away from him.

A revelation of sorts. He missed you. Missed what you would do for him. He regretted what he said and what he never had the chance to say. Because maybe deep down those feelings had been returned, but he was just too stubborn to show.

And now he's seeing you realizing that you deserve more than blurred lines and assumptions. And he's realizing maybe Potter is that more that you deserve.

Draco doesn't like that one bit, he can't even stomach the thought. So he promises to himself that he will do everything in his power to win you back. Even if that means saying that he was sorry and admitting that he was in the wrong, something he's never had to do before.

But if that makes you his again and gets you away from Potter, then its worth it.

Part 2

886 notes · View notes

secret-treasury · 3 years

Text

Dad!Sirius

little blurbs about sirius being the best dad ever. Also includes some sirius X reader, Marauders.

Babysitters

Atlas loves when Lily babysits them. He is just smitten with her and he especially likes her hair. She’ll hold him and he would just stare at her with awe. He would pull a little on her hair and would get pouty when told off for it, especially from James. He isn’t a fan of James' because he always takes Lily away from him at the end of the day and he doesn't like that, but eventually he’d grow to like him... a little.

Neo on the other hand enjoys hanging out with James. She follows him everywhere and wants to be with him when he does random things, she is like his little shadow. She gets pouty if she doesn’t get to play with his glasses and he always tells her to be careful with them so as to not break them. She has an attitude, she rolls her eyes at him. “Well… she's a pads kid alright!” he’d joke. To which she responds with an excited “Padtoot!” and laugh while running away with James' glasses to get her dog plushy.

Remus is however Neo's favorite babysitter and for one reason only. He has a beard and she loves beards and just wants to grab at them. Luckily both Sirius and Remus keep their beards trimmed short so there isn’t much for her to grab. Sirius did the prank on her where he hid the lower part of his face behind a towel, then when he revealed his clean shaven face, Neo was SO upset she wouldn’t stop crying. Whenever she saw him until his beard grew back she’d cry at the sight of him. When he finally had his beard back she had missed him so much. She’d have a similar reaction to remus shaving but milder. Neo loves hanging out with her uncles but daddy is still the best. Remus and Atlas get along great, atlas loves to sit in uncle Remy's lap while he reads, and most of the time he falls asleep, Atlas is a very cuddly and sleepy boy so it works out well.

Regulus is a decent babysitter but confuses the twins slightly when they are very young for the simple reason that he looks similar to their dad. Before they eventually learn the difference, he would be kind of an ‘imposter Sirius’ because they are aware that isn’t dad…. But he really looks like dad….

Bath time!

Both Neo and Atlas LOVE bath time, especially with their dad. They both just can’t stop laughing when Sirius makes himself a bubble beard and causes bubbles to fly everywhere when he talks. He’d create fun narratives with pirates and priateship and sea monsters.

The only thing Atlas doesn’t like about bath time is washing his hair, he cries so much because he doesn’t like getting shampoo in his eyes or when water runs down his face. Luckily Sirius is super gentle with him and makes sure he feels safe the whole time.

“Close your eyes” the little boy does as his father says and shuts his eyes really hard. Sirius puts some shampoo in his palm and rubs his hands together before massaging it into the boy’s hair. Atlas starts whining a little bit. “It’s alright buddy” sirius comforts. When it’s time to wash the shampoo out he gets pouty again. Sirius tells Atlas to lean his head back while he supports the little boy’s back with his hand.

“Are you keeping ‘em closed?”. Atlas nods and again focuses on keeping his eyes shut as hard as he can. “Here comes the water,” Sirius warns. He would never do anything to break his son’s trust, especially not for a laugh. All three of them sing a song together, usually some type of nursery rhyme, to help distract the little scared boy from the water.

Neo was easier to handle albeit a bit wild. She loved singing the song whilst water was running down her face and it sounded like she was underwater. She’d laugh a lot and then accidentally breath in some water. She’d be upset for a moment and cough a bit but in no time she’s singing happily again. Sirius often found himself singing nursery rhymes in the shower when he would wash his own hair, just a weird habit he had when the kids were little.

After bath time he would help them into their cute little bathrobes and then the two kids would run to their mama looking like little jawas. Sirius would join them moments later, clothes splashed with bathwater and bubbles still in his beard. He didn’t mind though.

Bedtime

Sirius would teach them to brush their teeth by themself as soon as possible. He would seat them on the bathroom counter, give them their little toothbrushes and portion out the tooth paste. Neo was the most troublesome in this area, she didn’t like brushing her teeth so he’d tell her an elaborate story of why she needs to brush her teeth. Unfortunately she didn’t believe him. Atlas did though and always pointed out that they need to brush their teeth every morning and evening like the sweet boy he is. Because of Neo's brother pestering her with the importance of brushing her teeth she’d do it. So it worked out for Sirius eventually… in a roundabout way.

After all the teeth had been brushed, including Sirius’, he set them back down on the floor and the twins rushed as fast as their little legs could carry them to their shared bedroom. Atlas would get his blankie and his deer plush that he got from auntie Lils when he was born. Neo would get a book and her very loved dog plushy also called padfoot or as she ‘padtoot’. They would wait for Sirius to join them and he would take a seat in the armchair they had in their little room, he would place the twins in his lap and they would get comfortable. Atlas would share his blankie and they would place their plushies in their laps getting ready for the bedtime story.

Sirius would read to them and also educate them on different topics, making the twins question what happened in the story and why. While also keeping it lighthearted and fun. He’d give the characters different voices, some were funny and some were silly. After they finished the story they would beg him to read another one and it would break his heart telling them no, but he knew they were exhausted and needed their sleep. “There will be another story tomorrow”

Puting Atlas to sleep was the easiest thing in the world. As soon as his head hit the pillow he would be asleep, holding onto his blankie and his plush. Sirius would pull the covers up and lovingly caress the boy’s cheek and place a kiss on his forehead wishing him goodnight.

Neo was more troublesome, she wanted Sirius to stay with her until she fell asleep. He’d tuck her in, kiss her forehead and also give ‘padtoot’ a goodnight kiss. Then he’d sit on the floor by her bed and caress her cheek til she fell asleep. Sometimes he’d fall asleep on the floor leaning onto the side of her bed.

Food habits

Atlas is a picky eater, veggies are his number one enemy and he’ll do anything to not eat them. Sirius understands this because he himself hated veggies when he was little although his punishments for not eating them was very uncalled for. It takes a lot of coaxing to get atlas to eat them and he is always the last one at the table. Sirius has tried everything but it's still a struggle.

“Just eat 3 more broccolis and a cauliflower, then you can go play” Sirius tried to convince the boy but he just shook his head and scrunched up his face in disgust. He couldn’t help but sigh at the cute but stubborn little boy. “Eat two and then we’ll go play afterwards, okay buddy?” Sirius tried to bargain. He saw a glimmer in the boy's eyes.

“You play too?” he asked hopefully and Sirius nodded. Atlas unwillingly picked up the fork and poked at the veggies. After a while he picked out the two smallest veggies and ate them one at a time. “Done!” he declared after forcing them down. Atlas slipped off the chair and rushed to join his siblings.

“Daddy will play with us” he cheered happily, veggies long forgotten. They spent most of the afternoon playing hide and seek. Atlas was the first to get tired and decided to hide under the covers in his parents bed. As he crawled under the covers Neo and Zagreus noticed his genius hiding spot and went to join him.

“Here I come!” Sirius called out as he began looking around the house. Not finding them in the usual hiding spots he began to feel worried even though they couldn’t possibly have left the house. When he passed the master bedroom he noticed 3 child sized lumps in his and his wife's bed. As he got closer he could hear some giggling. He carefully peeled up the covers to peek inside to see his pups. “I found you” he chuckled as he began scooping them up in his arms as they laughed and giggled happily.

When Y/N came home later that afternoon the house was quiet. The plates and cutlery, long forgotten on the kitchen table much to her annoyance. However, the sight she was greeted with in her bedroom of her husband and three little children sleeping together in a pile on the bed, tangled up in the covers and blankets. It was enough for her heart to swell with love.

Neo generally isn't a picky eater, she eats well and healthy meals. She does however love ice cream though. the strawberry, vanilla and chocolate mix also known as neapolitan ice cream. Neo is a tough girl to bargain with as she’s not as easily fooled as other children, but ice cream is her weakness and Sirius does occasionally use that to his advantage.

“Neo, sweetie. Please it’s time to sleep,” Sirius would almost beg as he was seated beside her bed on the floor, being as tired as he wished his daughter was.

“No.” Neo said stubbornly and crossed her arms over the covers. Sirius had tucked the children into bed almost half an hour ago and both boys were fast asleep and sailing off to dreamland. “I don’t want you to leave me daddy” she sniffled and her eyes were glossy with tears. Overwhelmed by emotions she suddenly sat up and threw her little arms around her fathers neck, holding him tight. His arm wrapped around her little body and he caressed the back of her little head with his free hand. He remembered feeling a similar feeling when he was very little. When his mother seemed to love him.

“Of course I won't leave you, puppy.” he said comfortingly as his heart ached in his chest. Neo pulled back to look at him, tears running down her chubby little cheeks. her hands still on his shoulders and her fingers played with his long dark hair.

“Promise me daddy” she demanded with another sniffle. Her words tore him apart within.

“I won’t leave you, ever.” he promised. He knew it was a lie, that one day he would have to leave her alone on this earth, even though it seemed far til then. He dried the tears from her cheeks and kissed her forehead. “Now go to sleep sweetie”

“Only if I get ice cream for breakfast” she argued back with a little giggle as he crawled back under the covers. Sirius tucked her into bed once again.

“Not for breakfast, but sometime tomorrow we can have ice cream, okay?” he said and poked her nose gently and giggled along with her. She lifted her little hand and held out her pinky.

“And strawberries” she said as Sirius wrapped his larger pinky around her little one. It wasn’t strawberry season, Neo knew that but she cleverly made him promise her to get her favourite fruit too. He couldn’t simply go back on a pinky swear.

“And strawberries,” Sirius sighed with a smile on his lips. His little girl was so clever, he knew he got it from her mother but the way she used it, that was all him.

Zagreus eats pretty much anything even if he doesn't like it. He accidentally took a bite of a bar of soap once. It was shaped as a cinnamon bun and the poor boy thought it was real.

“Dad?” he said as he pulled on his fathers sleeve. The potters were over for dinner and Sirius was out on the porch chatting with James over a cold beer.

“What is it boy?” he said and crouched down to the little boy's level. The boy looked puzzled and showed his father the cinnamon bun soap with a child sized bit in it.

“This bun tastes weird, dad.” James couldn’t hold back his laughter.

“Ah, oh it’s not a cinnamon bun, boy” sirius tried to explain but the boy looked at the bun soap and up at his father again convinced that his father was indeed mad. Sirius couldn’t hold back a chuckle “It’s soap.. In the shape of a bun”

“Oh…” Zagreus said finally trying to make sense of his odd food experience. Sirius ruffled the boy's hair. “Here” the boy said and gave Sirius the bun and then wandered off back into the house.

On Sundays it's always pancake or waffle Sunday at the Black’s house and the pups demand having their favorite fruit as a side. Atlas does a lot better with fruits and Sirius takes whatever wins he can get with the boy honestly. Blueberries are Atlas’ favourite fruit or well berry. However he doesn’t like fake fruit flavours in fact he hates them almost as much as he hates his sworn enemy... veggies.

Neo of course enjoys the sweet strawberries and often gets her way which means ice cream instead of whipped cream.

Zagreus loves pomegranates which doesn’t really go well with either pancakes or waffles but he is determined to have it anyway.

#sirius black fluff #sirius black #dad!sirius #sirius black x reader #sirius orion black #sirius black x you #sirius black imagine #sirius x reader #the marauders #james potter #remus lupin #regulus black #lily evans #lily potter #sirius fluff #sirius imagine #sirius blurb #sirius black blurb #sirius black headcanon

292 notes · View notes

freakystrashdump · 2 years

Text

🔮The Oracle Bakery🔮

Emperor Belos|Phillip Wittebane/OC

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, Belos is a content warning by himself

Read on AO3

previous chapter | START | next chapter

Chapter 2: Unfavourable Outcome

It was getting worse.

The Golden Guards visit was an omen of things to come, it would seem. Selena had to close shop for the day after the news of The Owl's lady capture and subsequent petrification at the conformatorium spread through the crystal balls all throughout the Boiling Isles. She couldn't work after hearing such news, and she was sure not many customers would come either.

This just…felt like a personal blow, so much more than anything before. She knew Eda (then again who didn't ), both as Selena the Oracle baker and as Midnight the Wild Witch.

Once her older siblings started Hexside, they were close in age to both Eda and her sister, and would cross paths with them often, which in return made their mothers casual acquaintances, via their children. So Selena was exposed to the Clawthornes, especially during her moody teen years. Meanwhile, as Midnight, she did business with Eda often, paying extra for books from the human realm which the Owl Lady somehow was always able to get her hands on.

Truth be told, the Owl Lady may have been one of the reasons as to why she went through such lengths to figure out how to keep her magic wild and unbound - in secret. She was a wide-eyed witchling who just barely started puberty, and Eda was well into her 20s, wild and rebellious and being yelled at by her gran for not "being more careful and flaunting wild magic in plain sight." Gran, bless her heart, would grumble later about how worried she was for the youngest Clawthorne; that she would be caught and punished if she weren't more careful. Eda didn't care, of course, and respectfully blew her off, flying off on her palisman staff to cause whatever other mischief she wanted.

The encounter left Selena with two thoughts that would shape her future:

One: that she wanted to be a wild witch like Eda Clawthorne.

Two: that she should heed her grandmother's words and keep it a secret.

Because in the end, wasn't exactly what gran Isabella said would happen - happening right now? Eda was careless for way too long, a thorn in the emperor's side and rule, and now…the worst was about to come.

And Selena, for the first time since she took on the vigilante role less than two years ago, was terrified. If the Emperor was cracking down on wild witches starting with Eda, she was sure to be next, there was no doubt about that. The Golden Guard was proof of that: if he was being sent to look for Midnight, it must be getting serious.

After all, whilst Eda was a socialite who was well known on the isles, someone whose status was close to that of a wild witch celebrity, she wasn’t intentionally malicious. Sure, her wild nature did cause mayhem, and naturally that meant clashing head on with the Emperor's coven, but it was more out of spite than intent. Her actions weren't a declaration of war, they were a cry for freedom. She was a symbol of freedom.

Meanwhile, since she took up the name of Midnight, Selena was…more hands on . She only operated under the veil of the night sky, so she was less known to the average citizen, but to the Emperor? Selena herself announced that she was a “Threat to the Emperor'' more than once in her dramatic speeches as she escaped the guards. “The Eclipse that will snuff out the Emperor's light of corruption” is what she called herself, to be precise.

Perhaps a bit melodramatic, now that she thought about it.

So while not as popular as Eda, a masked vigilante with her flair was definitely a topic that was beginning to be whispered amongst the citizens of Bonesborough. Especially with how much more frequent Wanted posters of her were becoming.

And it was why her self-preservation instinct was ringing alarms in her head, begging her to stay low for a while, while everything else in her body was pulling her to don her mask, crash the petrification ceremony and get Eda out. So when she found herself standing in the crowd in front of the Conformatorium, where the Emperor's coven was already scuttling about to prepare for the cursing ceremony, it wasn’t a surprise. She didn't remember walking there, specifically, but her legs took her to this path while she was in a daze, lost in her thoughts.

A crowd was already forming, with more and more witches and demons pouring in with each moment that passed. Also it was highly broadcast, she recognized the newscaster, an oracle witch called Perry Porter - she often saw him in the crystal ball - already at his post, visibly somber and uneasy with what would take place today. The crowd would make it easier for her to don the mask, the item she enchanted long ago to wrap her in cloth and cloak to conceal every part of her skin, without being seen. But as more and more people arrived, it was growing so thick, making it harder to tell if there were watchful eyes dressed as common folk.

"It will be hard to try and tune in to everyone's emotions here, to figure out who isn’t a civilian." Selena thought, her eyes roaming nervously through the crowd as she backed away from the front, trying to get more lost and less seen "There are just…so many people. I didn't expect quite this many…"

"I'm surprised you didn't."

Selena let out a loud squeak as another voice echoed in her head through a telepathic link. A lady to her right gave her a weird look as she did, but her attention didn't hold long.

Who…who could so easily come into her mind like this?! Usually she could feel any oracle trying to connect to her, that is, unless-

Unless.

"Behind you, Little Lena."

She turned on her heel and was met with the tall, imposing figure of her uncle Magnus.

"Of course, who other than you or mother would invade my privacy like this." Selena puffed up her cheeks in annoyance

Uncle Magnus was a beautiful man, tall with broad shoulders and messy brown hair, now already turned half grey, that was just long enough to tie back into a ponytail, with shorter strands falling out and framing his jaw. His orange eyes were sharp and so bright and vivid that they seemed like they would glow and pierce through pitchest black night.

He was a very imposing man, a talented oracle who worked under coven head Osran.

"Such a sharp tone, and towards your own uncle? I'm hurt." Unlike hers, his face was void of emotion as he 'spoke', eyes fixed on the conformatorium in front instead. "But onto more pressing topics. The Owl Lady is well known through the Boiling Isles. She has impacted many lives, witchling. For better or for worse."

"Witchling?! Really?!"

Magnus ignored her outburst "It shouldn't surprise you that many came to see her before…"

Both of them grew silent. Selena pursed her lips together and turned to look up, where the ceremony would take place soon.

"Why are you here, Lena?"

She didn't look back at him, knowing her poker face was no good. "Same as everyone else, I suppose."

Magnus scoffed out loud behind her "No, the truth if you'd please. Why are you here?" Selena didn't answer, only clasped her hands together over her staff, fingers twitching and pressing over each other till they ached. She heard her uncle sigh behind her "Whatever you came to do, Mother has instructed me to find you and tell you not to even think about it."

"I am NOT a child!" Her voice boomed loudly enough for Magnus to flinch "Stop treating me like one!"

Magnus hesitated for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts after that outburst ringing loudly in his head "Goodness, we need to have a talk about your inside emotions. The people around us felt that!"

Selena, on the other hand, was still fuming. Anger rising, she scratched more insistently at her wrist, the sigil feeling like a collar growing tighter the longer she spoke to her uncle. She needed to leave, now . However, as soon as she took one step forward, a heavy hand on her shoulder instantly pulled her two steps back instead.

"Do not go as Midnight."

It felt like a punch that took all the air from her lungs.

Her head turned slowly, just enough for her wide eyes to make contact with her uncle's. No longer was his face perfectly schooled into a neutral expression, instead she saw his lips pulled tightly and brows furrowed in a serious frown.

"...how."

"Mother told me. Apparently she knew for a while."

Selena felt her mouth go dry and fill with cotton, oh titan she prayed she wouldn't faint now. "And…and my mom…?"

Magnus cocked his head to the side and dropped his shoulders "She didn't tell her, Ursula would lose her mind if she knew."

The younger witch let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. Okay, so maybe it wasn't completely grim "How did gran find out?"

Her uncle chuckled, face softening for a brief moment. "Oh you know her, she always said she knew everybody's business before even they did."

Yeah…that did make sense.

"So gran sent you to stop me from going vigilante this publicly?"

Magnus shrugged before looking up at the platform once more. It seemed more livelier up there than before "Mother said all her readings were…unfavorable"

Selena turned around fully to face her uncle "Which is why I have to help Eda! She needs all the graces of the spirits she can get!"

"Not unfavorable for the Owl Lady, little one." He informed her, moving to look directly at her with a solemn gaze and opened his mouth to speak out loud.

"Unfavorable for you ."

It felt like a cold, calloused claw wrapped tightly around the witch's chest, squeezing all the air out of her lungs and making her heart ache unbearably. For…for her ? What did he mean by unfavorable for her?! How could Isabella possibly foresee a future worse than what Eda's currently held?! That couldn't be possible!

Could it?

If Magnus wanted to elaborate further, however, he wouldn't get the chance to do so, much to Selena's despair. The crowd around them cluttered closer together, growing restless as the wait for the main event was finally coming to a close. It started with the sound of drums, followed by a loud, mechanical buzz that preceded the platform which held the caged Owl Lady (in a monstrous form) and the one known to the public as the Emperor's assistant, the demon witch named Kikimora, finally rising into view. Magnus tightened his grip on Selena's shoulder, both as reassurance and as a warning not to do anything stupid .

"And in a shocking turn of events, head Coven leader Lilith is now in the holding cage, escorted by what appears to be a deranged cat." Porter announced, and both of the Fortuna's let out a gasp. Even the other Clawthorne sister?! What in the world was going on up there.

"Magnus, please !" Selena begged, but her uncle didn't respond, just clutched her shoulder tighter.

How could he be so…so calm?! He knew the Clawthornes too, right?! Didn't he care at all?!

As the Oracle silently fumed, the sound of commotion from the reporter took her attention. Looking over, she saw a young witch, maybe around fourteen, fifteen at most? Take the microphone away from Porter, a fierce and decisive look on her face as she spoke “What's happening to Eda isn’t right, she may not have always followed the rules, but she never did anything worthy of a petrification.”

A child.

A child who was around the same age as she was when she first decided to be a wild witch, no matter the cost. She was standing up for The Owl Lady, ready to face the consequences whatever they may be.

“The Emperor should let Eda go.”

Selena's eyes widened. What a coward was she, to meekly wait for someone else to help Eda, and to see a child be braver than her. No mask covering her face, no fake personas, just standing there, in front of the entirety of the Boiling Isles and broadcasting her defiance. The people around them started chiming in, with their own stories of how Eda was, in one way or another, kind or helpful to them, soon joining in a chant together.

"Let Eda go!"

She was - is kind and helpful. And Eda didn't deserve this. Neither did her sister, despite being the proud face of the Emperor's Coven.

"Let Eda go!"

And as a pained screech sounded from above, Selena made her decision.

"Let Eda go !"

She braced herself, taking a deep breath to calm down "Uncle…" her entire face flinched in pain as the sigil was ripped away from her skin, and she turned to once more look at him "...I do hope you'll forgive me."

Before Magnus could react, she drew a circle on her chest and slammed her open palm on it: Behind her, a magical copy remained, her real body detaching from it and falling to the floor. Magnus gasped, watching as she turned around in what seemed to be slow motion, the white mask clenched tightly to her chest.

"Lena, don't-"

Before her body landed on the floor, the mask was in place, and her entire body was enveloped in magic, transforming her clothes into those of Midnight. And in a blink of an eye, she was gone, her body bursting into dark shadows which zipped along the ground and through the crowd and away from her uncle's sight, leaving him only with a magical copy.

Magnus let out a low growl, which soon turned into a sigh. He pressed a palm to his face "Goddamit, Mother will be angry when she finds out. You had her, Magnus, how could you lose her, Magnus?! " He finished in a higher pitched voice. After a moment, he peeked through his fingers and saw the magical clone looking up at him with a blank, stupid smile etched on her face. "Oh, shut up ."

Meanwhile, the people in the crowd gasped and squeaked as their skirts and cloaks were lifted by a strong gust of wind, something (or someone) moving along the ground with enough haste to ruffle them. Traveling through shadows, a favourite of many oracle's, was a favourite of Selena's as well. Fast, unseen, close to the ground, a perfect way to maneuver crowds like these. And when she was far enough from her uncle and the effigy she left behind, she emerged from the shadow which was blacker than all the others, mounted on her palisman staff which took her high into the sky, giving the appearance of erupting like a geyser out of the bare crust of the earth to all those present.

"LET EDA GO!"

~*~*~*~

Luz had no time to mourn her only way home. Eda needed her. King, and yes, even Lilith, needed her, too. She had to put aside the pain and focus on rescuing her friends.

Because that is what heroes do.

As soon as she was greeted by the light of day as the lift took her to the platform, she disabled the petrification machine with powerful vines, thanks to the glyphs she prepared earlier. She knew it wouldn't be that easy, as a dozen guards surrounded her in an instant. Luz didn't care, she would not give up. If she had to die trying, she would do just that! But, the fates were kind to her, as the guards were soon wiped clear off the platform. A powerful whirlwind went in a circle around her, picking up each guard one by one and flinging them off with reckless abandon. Despite its chaotic power, it was obvious it moved deliberately, so as not to harm her at all, and when each and every guard was gone, it dissipated up into the air.

"Hey, kid!" She heard a voice from above call out.

When Luz followed the voice, she saw a witch hidden behind a mask and cloak, draped in dark violets and blacks. She was flying on her staff, a raven (or maybe a crow? Luz couldn't be sure) palisman with outstretched wings attached to its end. The inside of her cape was enchanted, giving away the appearance of being a window to the star-filled night sky.

"Hurry up kid! I'll keep you safe from above!" The witch called out "Save the Owl Lady!"

The young human shook the star-struck look off her face. The witch was right, she had other things to worry about. Wasting no time, she ran to the little demon witch in charge, Kikimora, with a fire sigil in tow.

"Free them, now ."

With absolutely zero hesitation (and a tiny scared whimper), Kikimora evaporated the cage holding Eda, King and Lilith prisoner. "Eda! Are you okay?!" Luz scanned the transformed witch as she ran closer to her. The stone spell pulled back before her very eyes, and as soon as Eda awoke, she felt like a heavy rock fell from her heart.

"As good as I'll ever be." Despite the uncertainty laced in the witches voice, those had to be the most reassuring words Luz had heard that entire day. It was, however, a short moment of respite, as she saw Eda's eyes look behind her, frowning, and turned to see more guards advancing towards them.

The masked witch from before zoomed down and body slammed into one of the guards right in front. Spinning in place on her staff, she formed a spell circle with her outstretched legs, which summoned dark, purple flames between them and the guards, acting like a wall "What are you waiting for?! Go! "

"You heard her, let's fly!" Eda quickly nudged the human girl with her head, forcing her to climb on to her back. King and Lilith followed suit, and as soon as all three were safely mounted, she took to the skies.

"Wait, what about her?!" Luz quickly called out, looking back to see the masked witch flying circles around the guards.

"Don't worry about Midnight, she deals with those goons for fun!" Eda answered without ever stopping their escape. The crowd beneath them cheered at the successful prison break, and their little family flew into the safety of the darkening twilight sky.

"Midnight…" Luz muttered, engraving the name into her memory.

~*~*~*~

The crowd cheered.

They cheered!

They cheered for Eda, for the girl, for her.

Most importantly, they cheered for an act of rebellion!

Selena, flying above the crowd and out of the guards reach, laughed as a sense of relief and wonder washed over her, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She twirled in the air, using her staff like a dancers pole, taunting the guards and challenging them to try and hit her with spears - they dared not do so, lest they injure any of the crowd below by accident.

However, the bravado she displayed so shamelessly took a hit when Emperor Belos himself appeared, a menacing figure emerging from the shadows, the aura around him sickeningly suffocating. But Selena would rather throw herself into the boiling sea five times over than to let anyone know that he affected her so strongly. His mask was cracked and a single, piercing blue eye made contact with her. She never felt more thankful for her mask hiding the fear that would be more than evident on her face otherwise. But despite the fear shaking her to her core, she stood (flew?) her ground, and stayed rooted to her spot in the air. Her hand clenched the staff tighter, ready to bolt at any moment if she felt endangered in any way. And she stared him down, boldly and spitefully, as if daring him to make a move.

Instead, he turned his attention to the crowd beneath her, above whom she stood like a fearless guardian (despite, very much so, being terrified).

“Children of the Isles!" The Emperor's voice boomed, dominant and demanding "The Titan has told me to spare the Owl Lady's life, but in return, her curse will strip away all her powers." His gaze turned back to Selena once more "Let her monstrous form be a lesson about the dangers of wild magic.”

Despite feeling her muscles coil up, Selena dared not flinch, not in front of him, not as Midnight . Midnight would never show him fear. Instead she kept her glare fixed on to him, showing nothing but defiance.

When he spoke again, it was far more silent, far more…intimate. Words directed at her, and her alone, ones the crowd bellow would not hear "Run along, little witch." He mocked her, but the tinge of threat was laced in his words "Do not tempt the Titan's good will, nor mine. I won't be as forgiving as he if you continue to provoke me."

For what felt like ages, neither he nor Selena moved, eyes affixed to each other in a hatefully charged gaze, both playing a mental game of chicken: who will turn away first.

It was only when Selena felt the mental pull from her uncle far below, did she snap out of her state. She brought up one free hand to her forehead and gave the Emperor a mocking salute, as she did she let herself freefall backwards into the crowd. Seconds before actually crashing, she mounted her staff and took off flying above everyone's heads, blowing off hats and messing up hairstyles of everyone unlucky to be in her path.

Uncle Magnus would have to wait. She really needed a good stress cry in her bed after facing the Emperor in person.

~*~*~*~

"You look horrible, boss, you doin’ alright?" She heard the part-time employee, Katya was her name, come in as if through a haze.

Selena had her long stress cry as soon as she was back home. She had to take the long way, traversing the shadows and going through the tunnel hidden behind the Potion shop, because the town was teeming with guards - she couldn't risk any one of them seeing her enter the Bakery. Her wrist burned with how abruptly she ripped the fake skin with the sigil off that day, it felt like a horrible friction burn and was worried she might develop blisters. Which only added to the intensity with which she sobbed once she made it to her bed.

However, the after effects of said cry caught up with her in the worst way the morning after. Not only were her eyes still bloodshot and eyelids puffy, but she had issues falling asleep at all last night, so the bags under her eyes were a deeper blue than usual as well, bordering on bruising purple.

And let's not even get into the disorienting headache she was nursing.

"I'm fine. Rough night." Selena muttered, rubbing her eyes under her glasses in a failed attempt to soothe the pain behind them. It only made them feel more irritated in return. A loud groan escaped her.

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Katya sighed and went to stock the pastries in the display window "I could barely sleep last night, I kept thinking about how the Owl Lady was almost petrified. That was like…some really scary stuff."

"Mm, super scary." Selena felt herself drift away again as she sunk more into the counter she was leaning against.

"It's really unfair stuff like that happens at all." The girl continued on "Imprisoning people just because they don't fit in, petrifying witches for no good reason, it's so stupid! It's so…so-" she grit her teeth. The sound of a tray slamming on the counter woke Selena up from her daze with a start "-so unfair!"

Selena yawned and rubbed her eyes once more, forgetting they were already irritated, making her wince again. "Uuuuughhh, super unfair." She whined loudly.

"Right? Right?! And another thing-"

Katya suddenly went silent, to which Selena felt infinitely grateful for. Not that she minded hearing her little rebel rant, but her head was killing her and she could barely comprehend what she was saying at times, words just turning into distant gibberish. She already sunk low enough against the counter that she opted to lie her head down, glasses weirdly askew and digging into her nose painfully - but at that moment she really didn't care. She just needed a moment, to shut her eyes for a minute or two and-

"Are you the owner of the Bakery?" The witches' brows furrowed at the unfamiliar voice.

Despite feeling her bones creak in protest, Selena managed to force herself to pull away from the comfiest counter in the realm, turning to face the one who dares intrude on her shut-eye.

Her eyes widened at the two royal guards, waiting patiently inside of her bakery.

With as much gusto as she could muster, Selena quickly put on her best customer service smile "I am she, how can I be of service today?"

"We have a delivery order to place in the name of Emperor Belos."

Selena clapped her hands together, feigning excitement "Oh! The Emperor wants to order from my bakery, how… exciting !" She glanced at Katya, who was nervously fidgeting where she stood "That should be no problem, esteemed royal guards, no problem at all! Do you want to pick up the order or should I call the delivery demon I usually work with?"

The two guards looked at each other for a moment, exchanging silent words between them, before the one who spoke addressed her again

"Emperor Belos has demanded that the owner of the bakery, the Fortuna in charge, make the delivery to him in person."

#the oracle bakery #the owl house #emperor belos #philip wittebane #philip wittebane x oc #emperor belos x oc #self insert #reader insert #fanfiction

35 notes · View notes

simonsnowichooseyou · 3 years

Text

This excellent essay was posted by @goodbyedandelion and reposted on Instagram—however their account sadly seems gone now. But it is in rememberence of their Tumblr spirit that I post a continuation to their essay!

EVEN MORE Reasons Why Carry On is so groundbreaking as a YA Fantasy/Romance

Misconceptions/Character Complexity

A large topic in YA Contemporary is gossip, but I feel like fantasy doesn’t touch on this as much. Think of how others perceive one another in Carry On. Early on we learn that Simon, for example, saw Penny as different because of her race. But of course, we quickly know this isn’t true.

But what about Agatha? In Harry Potter, for example, Lavender Brown and other feminine characters are often looked down upon because of their femininity. We often as a culture perceive beauty as overcompensation for what’s inside. Sometimes Agatha is looked at in the same light in Carry On, but when we see things from her POV, we realize that Agatha is perhaps the smartest one there. Maybe she’s not Penny Bunce-smart, but she has the survival instincts that Penny lacks.

Agatha isn’t the only one. Baz looks cold and unfeeling from others’ POVs, but we quickly learn that he is a boy with a soft heart that’s been hardened by his past. Everyone thinks he cares about nothing but we know he cares about his mother and how she’d feel about him; his father and step-mother and siblings; Simon, of course; Bunce, in his own way; he even cares about flowered suits and dramatic entrances! We think Bunce is nerdy and perhaps annoying, but we learn she’s very sweet and like a mother to Simon. And the mage. Ugh, the mage. We think he cares about Simon but we learn that for every bit he cares about Simon, he cares about the war more.

Rowell doesn’t allow any character to be simple, stereotypical, or as they appear. My sister, for example, was saying that Baz sounded like a stereotypical gay man in the media. But he’s not, is he? He might love fashion but Rowell does not make him simple or stereotypical. Everyone is so complex, and she uses the multi-POV to not just show us their complexity but also the complexity of how they are viewed by others.

Woman on Woman Drama/Anger

For years and years, only one woman was allowed to have a true seat at the table in films. Take Indiana Jones, the original Avengers, and Star Wars for example. This woman was often made to be the sex appeal or romantic interest, but I’ll save that for another day. Because of there only being one spot, it set a precedent that women in media needed to fight with each other to take that spot, thus depriving us of women getting along!

At first, I was worried Rowell had fallen into this trap. Bunce thinks Agatha is simple and too feminine, Agatha thinks Bunce is a major pain in the ass. Their dislike for one another is complicated in that they’re essentially two different types of feminism battling it out, and half of their fight was about Simon and their roles in his life.

But in the end, Penny and Agatha create a relationship that exists outside of their relationship with Simon. Penny sees Agatha’s strength and resilience; Agatha recognizes Penny’s harsh exterior for what is is. When Agatha moves away, they text without his even knowing. Penny is the one that decides they need to check on and save her. In the end, penny and Agatha fight alongside one another.

Rowell didn’t just give us a feminine friendship—she showed us what we’ve been doing, and how to get from Point A to point B. I think it’s the most underrated part of the series.

True Friendship

It might sound bad, but I truly believe a lot of today’s media ruins the idea of friendship. I just feel like none of the portrayals are realistic. Friends are either joined at the hip and have never fought (toxic) or never get along (also toxic). The fact that Baz and Penny and Simon and Penny and Agatha and Penny can get into fights but still continue to love one another platonically is really heartwarming to me.

Trauma/Mental Illness

I remember getting to the end of Harry Potter and thinking “he went through all of that and we’re just supposed to leave him now?” We see some remnants in the most cursed play ever: The Cursed Child. But more than trauma we see someone who looks back on the days they risked their life everyday with *longing.* While that’s about the most Harry Potter thing Harry Potter has ever done (and the most canonical part of that play) it’s so unrealistic. You’re telling me Harry grew up with nothing and was an amazing father—minus a few spats with his son. You’re telling me Harry was able to hold it together emotionally after fighting for his life from ages 11-18 without a therapists help? You’re telling me Harry lost two father figures in the ministry of magic AND spent 7 years going through what amounted to a lesson titled “the government is corrupt” just to be a part of that government!?

Wayward son isn’t like that. Wayward Son shows us what happened to Simon afterwards, and it’s not peaches and cream. He had therapy, he quit therapy. A lot of us have been Simon on that couch, and we all needed the Baz in our life to drag us across a metaphorical America. Wayward Son is hands-down my favorite book. Realistic depictions of mental illness, check. Subverting our expectations of after the end, check. Reading it feels like taking a road trip, check.

As OP mentioned, Simon is a beloved chosen one because he’s just so wrong for the role. He’s not levelheaded where he should be, he’s bold in all the wrong places, he couldn’t possibly maintain a professional relationship with the coven. Meanwhile his super-hot enemy Baz was the absolute perfect choice to be chosen, but he was completely passed over. And part of this chalks up to how Simon became so powerful—fate isn’t twisting its whims this way and that. Simon is only chosen because he was a Petri dish experiment-gone-wrong baby. When Simon asks the fates why, really he should be asking the mage. There’s something delightful about the fact that Simon was made. The chosen one was made, and in the same process, so was the greatest threat.

De-escalation

I think it’s clear by now that Carry On is a great book, Simon Snow is an amazing series, and Rainbow Rowell sure can write. But I feel the need to point out that the end of Carry On wasn’t well-received by everyone. I recommend the series to everyone I know and some people are really disappointed you don’t get a big magical battle at the end. Some people think Simon filling in the humdrum was a cop out. But I disagree. I felt it was thrilling to witness a book where war was as stupid in fantasy land as it can be in real life. This is the first fantasy I’ve ever read where they find a better way to handle conflict than senseless fighting. It’s emotionally rewarding, to me, to see de-escalation. To see conflicts fixed before they start to be huge problems. It was a risky choice for an end, you have to admit. But Rowell pulls it off amazingly.

Nothing is Wrapped in a Bow

A day will never go by without me thinking about the fact that Simon Snow Salisbury doesn’t know who his parents are. Or how Baz will never know what exactly happened with his mother—whether she really ended herself to avoid vampirism and whether she would’ve done it to her too. We’ll never even quite understand the mage’s plan behind fix the humdrum and get an all powerful boy wizard on his side. Rowell doesn’t wrap everything up. She gives you closure as often as she gives you something to ponder. The ending of Harry Potter was so controversial, I think, because it spelled out so clearly much of what was happening. And what you didn’t learn in that epilogue, Rowling released later through Pottermore and interviews. That’s fine and dandy—but there’s something to be said for ending Simon Snow’s books with questions. Not infuriating questions but rather things that I’ll always ponder—that will shed new light on different situations depending on how I look at them. Rowell sets a precedent that you can fill in Simon’s world with your imagination while also reminding us that life doesn’t have endings. Not really, the way books to. Rowell is one of the few writers of today’s fantasy, I’d argue, who’s okay letting things go unanswered. There’s always a thread of fantasy and magic going. It’s something that will keep Simon alive in my heart for many, many years to come.

So yeah, that’s what I think about when I think about Simon Snow. It’s not nearly as coherent as the original post but I hope you enjoy it.

615 notes · View notes

kittydemon9000 · 3 years

Text

The Beginning of Heatstroke, aka Red's Villain Origin

* crashes down from the ceiling * I HAVE FINALLY FINISHED ONE OF MY 5+ CURRENT WRITING PROJECTS! BEHOLD, A WRITTEN VERSION OF THE 'Red's Villain Origin AU', also known as RVO / Heatstroke AU

To summarize the AU for SPBNR for those that don't now it:

“Who'd be the biggest conspiracy theorist out of the M!Ninja? The one who drinks 5 hour energy at 3am and spits off the craziest theories and then actually gets it right but nobody gives the theory any merit because the rest of the theories are too crazy?”

The answer: Red / M!Kai

Red: Okay hear me out: Smith is actually an alternative version of one of us sent here from another dimension.

The other M!Ninja: You’re just saying that because Smith’s cool and you want him to be your counterpart

Based on the M!ninja making red cork boards trying to figure out ‘What Is Up With Smith’: Red gets increasingly accurate and nobody will believe him (all pre shogun reveal) and he eventually snaps and takes up a secret villain persona to fight Shogun like 'if they won't believe me I'll do it myself' and it gets awkward when he accidentally does too much damage and catches not only Shogun's attention like planned, but also the rest of the Ninjaforce, and now he has to keep his own identity a secret

So, without further ado, I present... Heatstroke

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

Red blamed the 5-hour energy coffee blend at 3:00am for this.

It was no surprise that between ‘Operation: What’s Going on with Smith’ & the sudden appearance of Shogun that the resident Bounty red-stringed ‘joke’ cork-board doubled in size and seriousness. It also was no surprise that Red had a corner all to himself and that his theories were… in the words of the others, ‘wildly inaccurate and implausible’.

But this time, he was sure he’d gotten it right.

Smith is Shogun sent here from another continent/planet/dimension with the goal of protecting Ninjago City.

The latest string of laughs and scoffs at his theory was the last straw. He’d show them. He’d prove it!

Which was why he was currently standing on the roof of a noodle house, awkwardly adjusting the spare motorcycle helmet he’d ‘borrowed’ from Nya and painted black and orangey-yellow (red had seemed too obvious). He’d exchanged his Ninjaforce outfit for a soot-burned cross between a bomber jacket and a leather jacket. Down his back jutted a row of flames like the spines of a monster, courtesy of one of Nya & Jay’s unfinished inventions Red had modified- surely nothing bad would come of that!

For tonight, the Red Ninja was off-duty. For tonight, it was Heatstroke’s turn.

He fiddled with one of the weapons he’d ‘lent out’ from Master Wu. It resembled a small arm canon, like a smaller version of the Ultimate Weapon. The plaque under its post had read ‘Elemental Focuser’, which, in cryptic Wu speak, probably translated to ‘you can use an elemental power like something out of Avatar: The Last Airbender’. So far he’d only figured out how to activate a focused jet of fire. Well, at least it was on brand. He hoped it would help him catch Shogun’s attention so he could unmask him.

He’d tried confronting Smith at school, of course. But there were only so many ways of saying ‘are you the new vigilante helping the ninjas’, and Smith has a genuine talent for dancing around the topic. Red could confront him with the name Shogun to get a proper reaction, but that would mean explaining how he knew the name and outing himself as the Red Ninja.

So fake villainy really was the only way.

His plan was to use the Elemental Focuser to cause some minor petty damage, just enough to attract the new vigilante. Perhaps set a trash can on fire, block an alleyway with rocks (if he figured out how to change the setting from fire to earth), small things that could easily be repaired.

Of course, plans were never actually stuck to. One way or another, something was always improvised.

Red’s improvisation just happened to involve him accidentally setting the entire alleyway on fire.

He’d only been aiming for one dumpster, honest! And maybe he’d spotted a couple fliers for a SoG meeting on the ground and happened to burn those too. And a newspaper article blaming Lloyd for the recent Garmadon attack, again. And an article about those ‘Damn Ninja Menaces’ by a S. Sonah Sameson. And-

Okay, so maybe Red had aimed the fire at a few small targets. But just a few! And with good reason and good care, but…

Well, fire liked to burn. Give it enough kindle and it’ll continue to grow, stretching like reaching branches towards each other to join in a massive bonfire.

So now the entire alleyway was on fire, and Red was panicking.

He’d luckily chosen an abandoned part of town near the beaches where Shogun sightings seemed most frequent, but with the stupid Elemental Focuser not switching from fire mode to water mode or ice mode or something that didn’t have the potential to burn Ninjago City to the ground, Red had no way of stopping the flames.

And more flames meant more destruction which meant a bigger audience.

Which was why his previously muted comm suddenly flared to life, the only warning Red had before Nya’s water strider mech slid around the corner.

Red scrambled onto a roof as the mech drove past, spraying water at the bonfire to dose it. His sigh of relief was just as quickly dosed as Lloyd’s voice came over the comms; “Status, Grey?”

“Flames are out,” Nya replied. “Pursing the joker that set it ablaze.”

Uh oh. Red took off across the roof, leaping from building to building. Tiles creaked, pebbled and dust scattering underfoot. The sounds of the mech’s engine roaring behind him echoed through alleyways below to create the illusion the mech was everywhere at once.

As the chase grew on, more mechs started to join in. Red ducked into a narrow avenue to avoid Zane’s tank, then under a cafe overhang to throw off Jay and Lloyd. His heart hammered in his chest and he groaned, filling the inside of the motorcycle helmet with steam. Saying this was going ‘bad’ would be the understatement of the century.

What had he been thinking? Oh wait: he hadn’t. Seriously? ‘Oh I’ll just pretend to be a villain real quick, that should get Shogun’s attention and not the attention of literally my entire team of fellow ninjas!’ Stupid, impulsive, this was why everyone was always calling the red ninja the ‘hothead’ when he really tried not to be- Lloyd’s voice over the comms snapped him from his thoughts. “I can’t catch them! It’s like they know our every move!”

Red winced as he climbed up a banister and leapt from balcony to balcony. Sorry, Lloyd.

He didn’t miss how the others asked Nya where Red was. And how she made up excuses the others bought so easily- granted, he’d told those excuses to his sister before setting his plan into motion, but still, ouch. They acted like he was simply being at best too busy and at worst lazy and selfish.

He just wanted them to know the truth! Why couldn’t they at least try to believe him when-

Of course, that was when Shogun dropped out of the sky and tackled him.

Red shouted with surprise as he tumbled down from the second floor, slamming into a few softer bags of garbage to break his fall before rolling and slamming into the unforgiving concrete. A crack formed in his vision as the visor of his motorbike helmet smacked into the concrete ground. One of the fire jets on his back sputtered and sparked, sending a thin wisp of smoke into the air.

Shogun pinned his wrists to the ground and growled. “Who are you?”

Red tried to break free, agony turning his muscles and bones to fire with the movement after his fall, but the vigilante was too strong. Damn, how often did this guy train?

“Who am I?” Red said, a nervous tinge to his voice. He quickly smoothed it over with faked confidence. “Who are you? Who are all of us, really?”

Shogun narrowed his eyes behind his hood. “Did Garmadon send you? Or someone else?”

Red sputtered. Really, the nerve! Garmadon? The thought turned his insides to disgusting mud. “Nobody sent me!”

“Then why are you here?” Shogun spat.

“Why am I here?” Why was he here again? Oh right, the bright idea on how to reveal that Shogun was Smith. “It’s, uh… a valid reason! That I don’t have to tell you!” He tried for a villainous laugh. Stay in character, don’t blow your cover, you got this!

Shogun was unimpressed. “Nearly burning down my home was a valid reason?”

“Well, I wasn’t trying to set everything on- wait, WHAT?” Uh oh. “You LIVE here?”

Now it was Shogun’s turn to look uncomfortable, though the expression was quickly wiped from his face. “Nothing wrong with this district.”

Red nodded. “‘Course not. Uh, sorry about that… wasn’t my intention, I swear.”

Shoot, he could hear Jay’s jet getting closer. He had to get out of here, but Shogun, annoyingly, didn’t seem to be in the mood to simply let him go. “Then what is your intention?”

“Well, for starters, it’s getting out of here. This really isn’t going to plan and I’d rather just be home right now, or even inventing a time machine like in that book ‘Hands of Time’ to slap my past self in the face for even thinking about this stupid idea in the first place-“

Jay wasn’t the only one that could ramble under pressure, it seemed.

Shogun leaned closer. “What idea?”

Red shrugged as best he could with how he was pinned to the ground. “Well, for starters, I just wanted to prove to my friends that you’re Smith, and things just kinda escalated from-”

The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he said.

Shogun lurched back, letting go of him. His eyes betrayed a kaleidoscope of emotions; surprise, worry, suspicious, hurt, fear, realization.

“…Kai?”

Well, f!ck.

“I-“

Red was about to badly attempt to bullsh!t his way out of his identity reveal before it suddenly dawned on him that Shogun had not denied his theory.

Which meant Shogun was Smith.

And it also meant Smith instantly recognized him as Kai, which, considering his disguise, was aptly concerning. Sure, he was the first one in his group of friends people would think to do something this extreme but give him some credit! Zane was a regular detective, he’d do the same if it meant answers! Or, well, at least something similar. And Nya could be an adrenaline seeker. And Lloyd- well, maybe not Lloyd. Or Jay, either. Cole had his head just enough on his shoulders that he probably wouldn’t do this either.

But come on, instantly guessing it?

Well, at least Smith/Shogun didn’t know Kai was the Red Ninja. That would be a catastrophe.

Right. Back to the current catastrophe at hand.

Shogun- Smith- still had a look as if he’d been slapped, and Red hated it. He hadn’t meant to hurt his friend. Shogun… Shogun hadn’t wanted them to find out his identity. And then Red had gone and done it, just to prove that he could be the smart one, or a leader, or the protector so they didn’t get hurt, or literally anything but just the ‘hotheaded one’.

…And he’d done it in the most hotheaded, impulsive way possible.

He really was an idiot.

The cracked helmet hid the look on his face, a twisted mess of distraught and shame. But it didn’t help hide how he took stumbled to his feet and away from Smith, nervous that any second he’d spill another mistake and mess up again, like how he always freaking messed up on everything. Don’t pick this fight, interject there instead, no, not there, idiot, there, FMS why are you so useless-

Focus, focus.

Lloyd’s voice, sharp in the intercom and full of static from his tumble, snapped him from his thoughts. “Anyone got eyes on the arsonist?”

Red caught Smith’s eye as he raised his hand to his own communicator. He was so screwed, so busted, so doomed… Smith would report it, and the others would know, and they’d think he was just messing around in an alleyway with some stolen devices and weapons out of curiosity or rage, - and-

“None yet, still looking.”

…What?

Smith stared at him, gaze searching. He looked shaken, more so than Red- who’d just taken a fall from a second story, mind you, it was a miracle he wasn’t more injured than a couple small scrapes and some future bruises-, yet everything from the set of his jaw to the softening of his furrowed brows suggested a change in emotions. Well, not quite change; more like repress and replace.

“You wanted to prove yourself, didn’t you.”

Red flushed, hand instinctually clamping into a tight fist at his side. The still-working fire jets on his back ignited without him pressing any buttons; faulty activation from the fall or something.

Palms up and hands raised, Smith silently asked to defuse the situation. “Didn’t mean it as an insult. This wasn’t about venting some anger, was it.”

Red’s lack of response only confirmed it. Smith continued. “I won’t say anything about this if you don’t tell anyone my identity. Deal? I know finding it out was important to you, but-“

“Deal,” Red interrupted. Guilt ate away at his core, like a wave of water dousing a candle. “Smith, I-“ He swallowed hard and stared at the alley floor. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… to…”

Smith’s hand was suddenly on his shoulder and he flinched before relaxing as Smith didn’t move further, nor did the grip tighten. “I’m a little hurt, you’re right. But I’m not mad. And I won’t tell the others, so you can relax. But you better get out of here and get yourself an alibi. We can talk at school or something.”

Wow, he was handling this rather calmly. Red was struck by the sudden memory of- what did Jay call the word? Right. Compartmentalizing. That… wasn’t healthy. But at the roar of Lloyd’s mech somewhere nearby, he didn’t comment further. Instead, he shot Smith a grateful nod and ran down the alley, sticking to the shadows and blind spots of the flying mechs and the tight alleyways where the land mechs couldn’t reach him.

When he got home, miraculously without further incident (though Shogun leading the others on a wild goose chase over the comms certainly helped there), he ditched the outfit in a bag hidden beneath a loose floorboard in the shed. He’d return the weapon to Master Wu’s ship later, and… well, hope Nya never searched for the missing supplies. There wasn’t a way of fixing it without involving her or Jay, and neither was an option.

Heatstroke was back off duty, and so was the Red Ninja.

For now, he could just be Kai Smith. And there wasn’t any issue with that.

…

Right?

—————

yooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THIS IS AMAZING REHJJGFHDESFXJVZ

and ah yes, good ol trauma and compartmentalizing, we love to see it

#We love ourselves some good ol aus #same people but not really #Spbnr #spbnr aus

169 notes · View notes

hxseok-honee · 3 years

Text

sundress || part 9

written portion under the cut!

sundress [part 9] || "I like it."

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : [when you’re close to me, i can’t breathe // we’re already six feet deep] fuck up the friendship x leah kate

taglist [open] :

@deepseavibez @thetrueghostqueen @reddeathraven @dingzerenistall @skyrro @unadulteratedlyunique @ramyagovindraj @itismochirice @wwhseokjin @drpepperobsessed @monamone @thekookiecorner @army-moa75 @burningupp-replies @lele-bb @pb-n-juju @red-kebab @heonsbebe @peachyyoongs @superloverpielamp @marifujioka @butterflylion @heyitsgigi @lochness-butmakeitsexy @miki-chi @cahowlkook @worshiphoseok @lilacdreams-00 @bongsbeforebibles @miriamxsworld @oasiswithmyg @peonyplace @annewrighthglc @calling-dips-on-j-hope @yoongiofmine @loveyoongles @instantspot @missmadwoman @x-xjaeminx-x @luvtaeha @vanillxangxl @renhold-nightspear @taeshuworld @lvrseok @supahumbreon @a-noona-mous

_______________________________

Monday, 20 September, 10:01am

“I sit through that class every morning, and I don’t think there’s a single thing I remember about it.” Yoongi runs his fingers through his hair as he exits the Charms classroom, free hand attached to Y/n’s hip. They hover in the doorway, waiting for Jin and Tae to join them, and then the four of them are headed down the corridor to their next class. Yoongi can feel his roommate’s eyes on him and Y/n, and when he glances over his shoulder, he finds that both Jin and Tae are looking with intrigue at the arm he’s got wrapped around Y/n.

“What?” They look up, Y/n glancing back to see what’s happening. Jin clears his throat, shaking his head, and Tae just smiles, a toothy grin that’s more than a little sheepish.

“It’s just… a bit weird, still -- seeing you two together. We’re getting used to it.” Jin nods before pointing between the two of them, eyes guarded.

“As long as I don’t have to accidentally walk in on you two getting freaky in the room, I don’t care what you do. But…” He trails off, glancing down at Yoongi’s arm again, an amused smirk dancing on his lips. “Yeah. Getting used to it.”

“You look good, though! You guys are a good match.” Tae gestures with both hands, the paperback book in his hold flapping obnoxiously as he tries to make sure he and Jin aren’t being misunderstood. “It’s cute -- we all like it. You know, except Jungkook.” Yoongi snorts, shaking his head.

“I really couldn’t care less what he thinks about it.” A lie, of course -- otherwise Yoongi wouldn’t be doing this at all. He wants to make Jeon Jungkook pay, just as Y/n does, but their friends don’t need to know that.

They reach an intersection then, Tae and Jin branching off to the right. They glance back when Yoongi doesn’t follow, and he points simply down the corridor on their left.

“I’m gonna walk Y/n to her next class -- see you guys at lunch?” Y/n looks at him, surprised he’s not heading to his own class. She waits until their friends are waving goodbye before she’s saying anything.

“You’re gonna be late…” Yoongi shrugs, guiding her down the left-hand corridor toward her Transfiguration classroom, his arm tight around her waist.

“So, I’ll run.” Y/n rolls her eyes with a scoff, but lets him walk her to class, anyway. She pretends she can’t see everyone in the corridor looking at them, just as they had been all morning. After all, once news had broken that Min Yoongi was no longer available, people couldn’t help but be curious. But Yoongi hasn’t said a thing about it, so she won’t either -- even if it is a little nerve-wracking.

When they get to her class, the very last one at the end of the corridor, Y/n turns to him, eyes suspicious.

“You better not use this as an excuse to skip your own class and go back to bed. You still have enough time to make it there.” Yoongi grins, shaking his head.

“You know me too well.” With a smile, she steps in and presses her lips to his in a quick peck. She would have tried to stay longer, but she can still feel everyone looking at them, and she’d panicked just a little bit. That’s a lot of eyes on them at once, and she figures a chaste kiss is acceptable enough that she can run into the safety of her classroom afterward without seeming like she’s avoiding his affection.

But as she’s turning to leave, a soft ‘see you later’ leaving her, she feels a hand on her elbow, pulling her back. Yoongi’s giving her a knowing look, tugging her close to him with an amused smile. When she’s close enough, he’s mumbling to her, fully aware of what’s been bothering her.

“You can do better than that.” Nervously, she’s glancing over his shoulder, but he’s tutting quietly, drawing her back. “Don’t look at them -- look at me.” She looks at him for just a moment, trying to build the courage to kiss him properly. It comes to her, and she’s stepping right up to him, hand on the side of his neck when she leans in.

Yoongi’s grip on her waist tightens when her lips find his, and he’s pressing forward right away, making sure to keep her focus on him. His free hand comes up and his fingers are threading through her hair, holding her still while he angles his head, molding his lips to hers more comfortably.

She pulls away first, ears tinting red almost immediately because she can tell everyone had seen that -- that they’re already whispering about them. But Yoongi makes it deceptively difficult for her to get carried away by the attention, tilting his head to block her view of the corridor with a playful smile.

“Good girl.” He’d meant it innocently -- she knows he’d meant it innocently. He’d only been praising her for not letting the embarrassment get to her, for doing it right that time. But he doesn’t know how those words affect her -- or… rather, he didn’t.

Because he catches it. He’s close enough, and his eyes are on her. There’s no way he’d miss the way her eyes had widened, even though she’s quick to mask it, or the purse of her lips -- the catch of her breath, almost imperceptible.

And then he’s narrowing his eyes at her, gaze flitting around her face, trying to pinpoint what had just happened. He puts it together easily, the side of his mouth tilting up as he gives her a knowing look. He wants her to say it, so he’s certain -- so this is something that can be shared between them, not something she’s too embarrassed to tell him.

“What was that?” Y/n blinks, shaking her head as she takes a step back, putting distance between them. He only steps forward to close the gap again. “No… something definitely just happened to you.” She shakes her head again, pointing over her shoulder into her class.

“Nope. That was nothing--I mean. Nothing happened, there was nothing.” She backs away further, jumping when she bumps into the corner of the wall. Yoongi only tilts his head with a squint, a full smirk on his features now.

“You know I’m not gonna let this go, right?”

“Go to class, Yoongi!” And then she’s gone, all but running into her classroom in a panic. Yoongi snickers, shaking his head as he turns and heads down the corridor, pocketing that interesting bit of information for later.

Monday, 20 September, 4:15pm

Y/n’s in the library, eyes scanning the shelf in front of her as she searches for the book title Hoseok had sent her. It’s something that has a chapter on the Wiggentree, which is what they’d chosen their project topic as for Herbology.

I’m definitely in the right aisle… Maybe I’m just missing it?

She moves to return to her starting place in the otherwise empty aisle, convinced she’ll find it if she just looks again. But she doesn’t make it far, a hand coming down on the shelf and blocking her. She’d been too focused on scanning the books to even notice that he’d arrived. But she certainly notices him now.

“So -- you like ‘good girl’?” Turning as the words are whispered into her ear, Y/n all but stumbles backward into the bookshelf, eyes wide as she finds Yoongi peering back at her. He’s squinting at her, just as he had this morning, as he searches her face for a reaction. Blinking rapidly, she glances down the aisle, worried someone might find them like this.

“Yoongi, what -- you can’t just sneak up on me like that!” Her voice is hushed, because she’s aware this is a library and even more aware that it’s full to the brim, having seen almost every seat taken when she’d walked through the room. The chances of them not getting caught are slim to none.

But Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind, only stepping in and further blocking her way out. She scoots back as much as possible, but there’s only so far she can go with her back pressed against a wall of books.

“No one forced you to tell me that you were here.” Y/n sighs, because she should have seen this coming. He’d been totally fine all day, holding her hand at lunch and walking her to class after, never saying a word about what had happened this morning. Even during their free period, they’d just taken a nap in his bed -- everything had been normal.

So when he’d texted her asking where she was, she hadn’t thought twice to tell him about the book she’s been looking for. She should have known he’d bring it up again -- he’d even said he would. But she hadn’t expected it to be here, in such a public place.

Maybe I should have. This is Yoongi.

When she doesn’t say anything, Yoongi leans in, setting his lips against the shell of her ear.

“What else do you like to be called, hm?” Flushing red, Y/n plants her hand on his chest, intending to push him away. But he’s already pulling back, just enough that their noses are brushing while he looks into her eyes. She hates that he’s smirking, because he knows she’s flustered.

“You know you should just tell me -- I’ll figure it out for myself eventually.” He’s fully aware she won’t say a word, already seeing that her jaw is clenching, mouth set in a hard line.

“I’m not telling you shit.” He raises an eyebrow, thoroughly amused by her disgruntled expression.

“No? That’s okay. I’ll just get it out of you later, pretty girl.” Y/n blinks rapidly when her heart jumps and grimaces, because he’s testing her right here in the middle of this library. And she knows when he smiles that she’s failed.

“Got you.” Y/n rolls her eyes, cheeks warm from how embarrassed she feels, and moves to push past him so she can leave -- she’ll just find the book later. But Yoongi’s in her way, a playful smile on his face. “You still haven’t told me if you like ‘good girl’.” She shoots him a wild look.

“You know the answer to that.” And then she’s looking away, because his eyes are lighting up and she’s not sure how she’s supposed to feel about that -- mostly, she’s not sure why it doesn’t bother her that he’s excited about this. “Can I go?” He smiles, humming in faux contemplation.

“Nope. I wanna hear it from your mouth.” She turns to him, exasperated, because he’s being obnoxious and he knows it. But he doesn’t let up, only pressing forward until she’s backed against the shelf again. “Come on… it’s just a couple words -- say them and I’ll let you go back to your project.”

When she only glares at him, he hums again, a dangerous glint in his eye.

“Okay, then.” And then he’s leaning forward, slotting his lips against hers roughly, muffling the noise of surprise that leaves her. She pushes him back just enough that their lips part, eyeing him with shock.

“What are you doing? We’re alone--”

“Are we?” She blinks, knowing what he means -- that there are eyes everywhere, that what they’re doing is okay because they are in public, even if the aisle’s empty. Because this is exactly what it's like to date Min Yoongi, so it's okay. Everything they're doing and saying right now -- this is how it's supposed to look to anyone that comes across them.

He looks her over, checking that she’s alright -- that she’s not upset.

“… Can I go back to being the sexy boyfriend that corners you in the library to convince you with my mouth to tell me what I want to hear? Or do you want to stop? Because I’ll stop.” Y/n snorts, shaking her head. He’s careful as always, but if she’s honest -- she doesn’t really mind this all that much. She’d agreed to it, after all. So instead of telling him that this is fine -- that they’re fine -- she continues the previous conversation.

“You’re not gonna convince me to say it, no matter what you do.” He looks at her sideways, smirking, and she immediately regrets having worded it like that because she can already see Yoongi’s competitive side making an appearance.

“Is that a challenge?” When she only rolls her eyes, he leans in, stopping just shy of her mouth and waiting, just in case she doesn’t want to do this. She doesn’t move, gaze only flicking down quickly to his lips and back again. He tries his best to mask the smile that threatens to form on his face, but even as he closes the gap, it’s there.

He kisses her once, then leans back to talk to her.

“Say it.” She smiles, eyes full of mischief.

“Say what?” He kisses her again.

“Say it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Again.

“I could do this all day, Y/n.”

“No, you can’t. You hate missing dinner -- you like the dessert too much.” He sighs impatiently, setting his hands on her hips and pulling her in. The kiss he lays on her lips is different than the last few, this one made to leave her breathless. She hates that it does.

Without pulling away, he gauges her reaction, noticing immediately that she’s grabbing at the front of his uniform, almost as if to ground herself after something so unexpected. He doesn’t give her time to recover, pulling at her bottom lip with his teeth. When she inhales sharply, he pushes his tongue past her lips, licking into her mouth -- she whines, the sound immediately cutting off because she’s realizing that they’re still in the library.

Yoongi only smirks, finding it cute that she’s so aware of her surroundings. But he wants her completely out of it, thinking either about him or nothing at all. So he brings one hand up to the back of her head, where he’s taking a fistful of her hair and tugging harshly, forcing her mouth away from his as her head gets angled to the side. That whine comes again, but she’s definitely already more dazed than before, because she doesn’t stop it from happening. Her head is spinning too fast, the feeling turning to pure white noise when Yoongi attaches his mouth to a spot under her ear, his lips searing hot against her skin.

“Yoongi…” She breathes out his name, clinging to him like she’s going to fall over if she doesn’t. Yoongi tells himself that that’s why he presses himself flush to her, sliding his free hand down to her ass and pushing her hips forward into his -- because he wants to help steady her. It has nothing to do with hearing her call for him like that. Nothing at all to do with the reaction it draws out of her when he does, that breathy moan he’d secretly been looking for. Pulling his lips from her neck, he drags them up to her ear, not even noticing how hard he’s breathing.

“Now do you wanna tell me?” She doesn’t respond, whining incoherently. Yoongi sees out of the corner his eye that someone’s turning into the aisle. When they stop short and immediately turn to leave, he’s smiling, because they’d just gotten caught and Y/n has no idea. She’s too busy trying to catch her breath -- trying to come to her senses. Yoongi’s having none of it.

Using the hold he has on her hair, he brings her toward him, smushing his lips to hers -- it’s not as rough as she’d been expecting, but it takes her breath away all the same. Just like the first one. She whimpers against his lips, and it warms him -- the idea that even this is enough to make her feel good. He wonders if she actually prefers when he’s soft with her -- he’ll have to explore that more later.

Pulling his lips away from her, he watches her. The way she doesn’t open her eyes right away or even notice that he’s waiting for her. She just leans her head back against the hand in her hair, and Yoongi steadies her, smiling at how dazed she is. He shakes that hand gently, jostling her, and that’s when she’s opening her eyes, realizing he hasn’t done anything in a few seconds. They make eye contact, Y/n trying to blink her way out of the fog in her head.

“Don’t you want this to end already? Wouldn’t you rather go back to finding your book before we have to go to dinner?” She nods automatically, even though there’s a small part of her that hesitates first -- it must be because she’s too out of it to process his questions right away. When she doesn’t meet Yoongi’s eyes for a few seconds, he’s pulling at her hair again, drawing her attention. And when her gaze finally lifts to his--

“Then be a good girl and tell me you like it.” Yoongi watches as she reacts -- as she breaks. As her lips part in a small gasp, her eyelids fluttering as she looks at him. As the hold she has on the front of his shirt tightens, her knuckles almost white. It’s the first time he’s ever seen this side of her -- the first time he’s ever seen her give in like this. He almost feels bad for how proud he is that she’s like this because of him.

But then she’s saying it -- what he’s wanted to hear from her all day. She doesn’t say all of it, but she doesn’t need to. Just those three words are enough to make him smile, because submission looks shockingly good on a stubborn lion like her. His Y/n.

“I like it.”

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts texts #bts hogwarts au #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi texts

253 notes · View notes

turtle-go-brrrr · 3 years

Text

Scratch my shell, I scratch yours

A/N: Heya! So remember two posts ago where I said I wouldn't write fics because I'm not confident enough in my writing to post it? Yeah, me neither. I started writing this at 6 am because I couldn't sleep and kept working on it during the day, so enjoy ^^(I got a little tired at the end, and i think you can feel it ;w; hope it’s good enough anyway!)

Also, I’m a sucker for platonic intimacy, and there is a severe lack of platonic x reader in this fandom

Fun fact: the Shell is both the Dorsal (part on the back) AND the Plastron (part on the front).

Requested: No

Pairing: None, platonic

Word count: 2500 +

Triggers: None

Summary: You make an embarrassing suggestion that they surprisingly accept.

_____________________________________________________________

The idea came to you in a random conversation you had as you sat on their couch.

"But wait, you can really reach everywhere? Like if I touch here-", you point to a crevice in the middle of his shell. "You're telling me you can bend your arm enough to get here?"

Leonardo gently takes your wrist and pull your hand away. "I mean, we have some of those telescopic scrubs to help, you know? Or we can just ask each other to get to the hard places if it's really complicated."

Oh.

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense."

You have been asking a few questions about their shells after Raphael started showing off some of his scars, fascinated by the intricate patterns you could see on your friends. The topic of cleaning has be brought up, and as your curiosity took charge, your brain decided to embarrass you as much as it could.

"Do you think I could help?"

Only the faint background music Mikey had set up earlier could be heard as your mutant friends looked at you, eyes wide open.

Oh, that came out wrong.

"Wait, that's not what I-", you start to explain your line of thoughts when you get interrupted by the smug look Mikey sent you, as he harbored a teasing smile.

"Oh? I didn't realize that's what you meant when you said you wanted to hang out more," he wiggles his eyebrows as your nervous laughter fills the room.

"Hold on, I can explain."

Silence again.

"Oh, you're actually listening?"

"I mean, I think we're all dying to know why on earth you'd want to take a shower with us. You're not usually this upfront with your affection," Donatello chimes in. He's not even looking at you in the eyes, but doesn't really try to hide that stupid smirk.

Bastard.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on not letting the embarassement take over, but your voice shakes imperceptibly, and you can feel youself start to sweat. Great.

"Okay, so I was thinking : you guys always do so much for the city and never get anything in return. I remember Mikey told me that you guys love shell scratches, and now I can see that you have some trouble cleaning it, so maybe I can help with that ? Kinda like a massage sort of thing, it doesn’t have to be weird if no one makes it. Now obviously we’ll be wearing swimsuits, we’re not close enough for… you know… actually taking a shower together, " you try clearing your throat discretly. You hear a muffled laugh from Raph.

"Anyway, I think Casey knows where to buy the best animal care product. I think human stuff might not be suitable for your shells, and I read somewhere that water was the best way to clean a turtle shell anyways, but if you have suggestions just let me know what you usually use. Do you even have swimsuits ? Doesn’t matter, I’m sure we can find you some-"

As you rambled on, the slight shame started to wear off and you were able to explain your line of thoughts more clearly. The awkwardness of the situation seemed to settle down, even if your friends were absolutely going to tease you about it later. Leonardo seemed hesitant, though.

"I don’t know, man. Are you sure about this ? I don’t want you to feel like you have to. We can take care of ourselves, you know."

"I’m not gonna force you if you don’t want to, I’m just offering because I want to do something nice for you guys. You can’t really take a break, but you could at least relax a bit."

"I’m up for it." You didn’t expect Raph to agree so quickly, but maybe you should have anticipatd that as you look at the bags under his eyes. "I mean, the worst thing that could happen is falling asleep while getting a massage from a friend. Kinda sounds like a dream if you ask me. "

‘Well that was easy,’ you think as your face lightens up.

"Besides, we can laugh at them for wanting to shower with us. Didn’t think you’d want to be so intimate, " he purrs as he gives you a side glance.

Oh. Bastard number two.

"Alright. Sure. You know what, fair game, " you laugh it off. Mikey puts a reassuring arm around your shoulders as Donnie places his legs on your laps.

"We do have swimwear, so you don’t need to worry about that. And you were right about using only water to clean it, as human products tends to make us itchy afterwards. There are some types of oil we use sometimes to nourish our shells, however. I think the only thing we might need to look into is new brushes. The ones we have are, hum, barely hanging on."

You send a quick text to Casey and April to let them know about the plan after making a short list of supplies with Leo, who ended up agreeing.

It didn’t take that much convincing.

____________________________

Saturday came fast. After getting all the necessary supplies with Casey, you both made your wait to the lair to join April. They had both agreed to help you in your task, because 'damn, they really need some appreciation'.

"When do you think they'll be back?" You ask Splinter as he offers you a cup of spiced tea.

"Usually around one in the morning, unless they were delayed."

Unless something went wrong.

But those dark thought quickly faded away as you heard the faint echo of Mikey's laughter as he recalled their night. Light chatter filled the room as they took off their gear and put away their weapons, and April hushed them to get changed and take a quick shower so they could get started and finally have some sort of a break.

You could see they were excited as they each went their own way, waiting for their turn to the shower.

When you live in the sewers and try to turn it into a living space, you have to do what you can with what you have. And sometimes, what you have is a large space that you can turn into a huge bathroom, with multiple showers and a large bathtub; but what you don't have is privacy. So big communal bathroom it is.

In this specific case, it's a good thing, because it means you can all chill together as you get to work on their shells. Once everyone was settled in, April motioned them to sit on some of the chairs you put up. She opens the bag Casey and you brought and starts getting the multiple brushes and bottle out.

"You have to understand that you guys are, uh, gigantic. So try to stay at our level, okay? And stay put, please. Anyway, here is what we've got for you: there are multiple brushes - one of each type for each of you - and some are harder than the others. Don't worry, we'll try not to scrub your shell off of you," she winks at that, and holds back a laugh at Raph's worried expression.

She continues. "We also found the oil Donnie told us about, and we bought multiple bottles. You'll have a stack for next time." She then gets one last bottle out that she puts aside.

"That one is for Splinter. To make his fur all soft and shiny," you butt in with an innocent smile. The old man deserves a treat too.

Casey laughs at that and says, "So, there's tree of us and four of you. Who is okay waiting for his turn?"

Silence.

After a solid minute, Leonardo sighs and volunteers to let his brothers enjoy a well deserved spoiling session. Mikey, instead of sitting on a chair like a normal person, choose instead to lay down on the bathroom floor.

"You said it was basically a massage, right? Now it really feels like it!"

"Oh, good idea. I'm this close to getting a pillow and having the nap of my life," Donnie says, putting his fingers together.

"Your fingers are touching."

"I know," he gives you a side smile as he starts to get up, but you quickly bring him back to reality. "But there's gonna be water everywhere?" You sit down next to where he just was and watch as he goes back to where he sat, sending you a disapproving side glance.

"Let a turtle dream, will you?" He lays down on his stomach, puts his head on his arms, and scouts closer to you.

You watch Raph get settled on a chair next to Casey, putting his arms on the backrest as April hands you one of the harder brushes. Leo makes a quick trip to the kitchen and brings back some water, a few snacks, and a copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne.

"Again," you start. "There's gonna be water everywhere. Are you sure bringing a book here is a good idea?"

He gives you a sly smile. "Gotta live up to my name."

What?

"What?"

"You know," Mikey interrupts. "Fearless."

"Oh. Right. Well, don't come crying when you drop it into a puddle then." But you offer him a plastic bag anyway, to hold his book with it in case he wets his hands.

"You sure you're okay waiting?" Casey asks him as he starts pouring water over Raph's back.

"Yeah, don't worry. I have things to keep me busy anyway."

______________________________

It took one swipe of the brush from April for Mikey to start... what was the word? Churring.

A low rumble coming from his throat that had kind of the same function as a cat's purr, Donnie explained. It was an expression of contentment or happiness, that sometimes even happended when they needed reassurance.

Adorable.

"I can't believe you guys can purr and never told me." Raph doesn't even bother opening his eyes when he answers you, "We knew you'd take advantage of that. Didn't want to be babied by the tiniest human we ever met."

Asshole.

You went back and forth with the gruff turtle, always in good spirit though. Conversations flowed, laughter were exchanged, and everyone managed to lighten up. Master Splinter joined the group at some point, and was just glad to spend some time with his family - all of it. He also started to take cared of Leo’s dorsal, to his delight.

You don't exactly know when, but some time after Donnie started to let go some soft churrs as you scrubbed the dirt off of his shell, you stopped listening to the current topic and started to really focus on your task.

Scrapping the dirt hidden in between every crevice, rubbing the largest scales, you were surprised by the look of the bare shell of your nerdy friend. You never really stopped to observe this particular feature the four brothers harbored, not only out of decency, but also because it was always covered. Gear and clothes, backpack and tech, dirt and blood, there was always something hiding the intricate patterns of their shells.

You unconsciously slowed down to really take in what you were seeing, your fascination and curiosity taking over your wish to help.

"I don't know why, but I never expected your shell to be so colorful," you say after wiping away the dirty water from the left side of his back. You didn’t mean to say it at loud, but he doesn't answer you. However, you do get something from Mikey.

"Man, you should see mine! Don helped me create an organic paint so I can paint my shell without hurting myself with a bunch of chemicals, and it looks sooo damn good-"

"Shh!"

"... Did they- Did you just shush me?"

"Shhh!" You whisper yell this time. You then give a side glance toward the sleeping turtle under you.

"Annw. Good luck waking him up."

"Yeah, I'm... not doing that. He needs his sleep," you laugh quietly.

______________________________

It took the three of you around an hour to deep clean their shells. Even Raph was finally letting go and softly churring at the end. Mikey was loud enough to have trouble speaking, and Donnie was still asleep. Splinter was still working meticulously on his son, who, he could tell, had a hard time holding back the content churrs that threatened to spill out.

You get up and strech, feeling your joints crack and already anticipating how sore you’ll be tomorrow. The muscles in your arms were burning, and you couldn’t feel your butt anymore, but it was worth it. You’ve never seen the four mutants so relaxed before.

Remembering the oils, you went toward the towels to dry your friend’s back and give the final touch to, what you’d grow to refer to, your work of art. You gave a few head scratches to Raph, who was dozing off with a lazy smile, and went back to Donatello. You slowly dried his dorsal when you felt him shift under your hands.

"Hey buddy," you speak softly. He whispers a ‘hey’ you can barrely hear.

"I’m almost done. I just have to put the oil, then you can let it dry and go to sleep, okay ? " You open the bottle and get a paintbrush, with which you start coating his shell with a thin layer of oil. You can hear his soft churrs start again.

Casey accidentally dropped the bottle of oil on Raph’s back and was desperatly trying to gather as much as he could. "Shi- Fuck, wait-"

"Here, give me some. Thanks to you, I don’t have to open mine, " April said with a smirk. She helped him clean up before going back to Mikey, who raised himself on his forearms and watched the scene unfold with a tired smile.

It took only around twenty minute to put the oil on their shells and get it almost dried up. Once it was done, you helped Splinter and Casey clean up as April let her dizzy friends hold onto her, guiding them on their way to their room. Once it was all done, you waved Leo good night as Raph ruffled your hair and went to sleep. Mikey gave you a big hug and thanked you for the ‘bonker idea’ and made you promise to do it again soon, which you agreed on.

April was already sleeping in the big armchair next to the couch, Casey in a sort of little nest of blankets and pillows at her feet. As you made your way to the couch – your makeshift bed for the night – Donnie was passed out cold on it already. And, boy, does he takes up a lot of space.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned to see Splinter standing next to you. "I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you borrowing his bed for the night. "

"I– are you sure ? "

"He stole yours. He’ll live. " A gentle smile tugged at his lips as he guided you to your friend’s room, offering you a spare blanket and pillow. "Have a good night, Y/N. You know where to find me if you need anything."

”Thank you, Master Splinter.” You can feel your eyelid close on their own, and decide to finally call it a night. You got settled as best you could in the bed, and fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

A warm breakfast would await you in the morning.

#tmnt x reader #tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #i was supposed to make headcanons about them getting their shell scratched #but my brain did this #took me at least 8h #idk if im 100% satisfied but hey #im really excited about posting it ^^#hope you liked it!

392 notes · View notes

ladydeznutz · 3 years

Text

When He Loved Me (Peter Parker x Reader)

A/N: My first fic and it's angst that came into my head around 3am. I've always wanted to write fics, but I didn't like how I wrote and I was embarrassed. First time writing for others so I tried to keep away from using just she/her pronouns, but if that's what you'd like just lemme know

I can write for other fandoms, and imma make a list of the fandoms I like bc I have so many I forget. I'll also add some other things if it interests me. Not comfortable with nsfw just yet so apologies. Anyways, enjoy the fic ig and please give me criticism if you see something wrong

idk how tumblr works with spacing and all that so hopefully this comes decent looking

Prompt: Please, don't leave me.

TW: S**cide mention

Every day had started to feel the same to you for a while now.

It started when he began missing date nights with you. He was always so excited about them, and then they were happening less and less often. You still saw him on occasion, but it felt more like "business" than anything else.

You didn't get the same giddy feeling you used to get when you'd see him; it felt like going out with him was more of a chore. You couldn't even complain to him about it even if you wanted to. Anytime you did see him long enough, he was always gone within a second, always in a rush. You never knew what he even did with himself or if he was thinking about you at all.

It definitely didn't help that you'd always catch him hanging out with his friends. You confronted Ned about it, but he was always so dismissive. Hell, you had even talked to Michelle about the whole thing. At first, she sympathized, but then it was as if a switch was flipped. You used to go to her to vent about Peter and the relationship. Now, she was practically telling you that you were overreacting.

----

You felt like you were going to have a mental breakdown.

Learning about a loved one's passing is always one of the hardest things for anyone to deal with, especially when it's someone you deeply care about.

You had just received the news that your best friend had killed himself a couple of hours ago.

You didn't know how to feel.

You couldn't wrap your head around it. There was no warning.

You and he had been friends since childhood, and you knew each other so well that neither one of you could even remember a time when the other wasn't around.

Your hands shook as you picked up the phone to call Peter. Your tears finally fell as you listened to the constant ringing of the phone, and you knew he wasn't going to answer. Rage grew within you as you heard his voicemail message causing you to throw your phone across the room. It crashed into the wall and broke, but you didn't pay any mind to it as you fell to the ground and let out a wailed sob.

Why did this have to happen?

You could barely catch your breath between sobs.

Your body shook.

You didn't care about anything anymore.

You didn't care about Peter anymore.

----

Weeks had passed, and Peter was exhausted.

Tracking down a gang, taking them down, and meeting another Spider-Man had just been a lot for him to take in. He was so tired, he didn't even want to think about it anymore. His back ached as he climbed through his window.

He was just so damned tired.

He stripped out of his suit, took off his web-shooters, and placed them back in his closet. Then, he took a quick shower.

His job was a bit easier to have Ned and MJ know he was Spider-Man. Now he just had to tell you.

Peter stood in the middle of the room and weighed out what would happen. He felt sorry for lying to you, and he knew that he was being distant. He just didn't have the courage to deal with any of it because he was worried about you. He couldn't lose you too.

As Peter lied down to finally get some rest, he wondered how you were doing. Karen had said you tried calling him, but he couldn't answer he had been in the middle of a stakeout.

He got up and rummaged through his book bag to get his phone, turning it on to scroll through his messages. He sat up as he realized how many he had gotten. Had something happened?

As he scrolled through, his heart broke. So many people had posted about the loss of Jay and were gossiping about why he did it. When he finally went through them all, he looked at your one missed call and gulped.

You had called him that day, and he didn't pick up.

He clicked the voice mail and listened to the message. All that he could hear were your pained sniffles, a shout, and then the line cut off.

He felt sick as he replayed the message.

Peter already felt awful about lying to you; he had to fix this. He quickly texted you, put his web-shooters back on, and was ut the window.

He knew the way to your house, so it took him no time to et there. As he was getting ready to knock on your window, he did a double-take and took a closer look.

Someone was sitting in your room; it looked like he had been waiting for you. Peter quirked an eyebrow as he looked at the guy. He was wearing a red and green jacket with shorts and sneakers. He also looked like he was wearing tights?

Suddenly, you walked into the room, so Peter backed away from the window to hide in the shadows. You seemed to be upset as you were wiping your eyes quite a bit.

"I'm sorry Miles. I didn't think I'd start crying like that," you said as you sat on your bed.

"Hey, it's okay," he replied as he stood up and moved closer to you. You sniffled as you tried to regain your composure. Peter didn't quite know how to react. Who was this? What was going on?

"I just...he..." you groan out in frustration as you grip your hair. Miles' eyes widen as he sees tears start flowing from your eyes again.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asks as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. You shrug as you shake your head.

"It's complicated, and besides, that's what our therapy's for" you chuckle dryly. Miles' eyes wander the room as he tries to think of something to do to cheer you up. "How 'bout we go out tonight?" he suggests.

"I don't like the tone of that voice" you sass as you turn to give him a look. Peter watches Miles turn around, and his eyes widen. Miles was wearing a suit, a Spider-Man suit. The same Spider-Man he saw the other week.

"Any place you wanna go to, we'll go" he adds with a cheeky smile. "Really? You're not busy?" You cross your arms as you stare him down.

"Nah, night's been quiet. Besides, I might be busy tomorrow, then you'd miss your favorite person in the world" he winks as you begin to smile. Peter's heart sank as he realized what was happening. He thwipped a web to the building across from yours and sat down on the edge of the roof. Pulling out his phone, he sent you a text.

Can we talk tomorrow?

Giggling could be heard from across the street. Peter looked up and bit his lip as you glanced at your phone and threw it on your bed. You got onto Miles' back, and you both swung away.

----

After you tried calling Peter that day, you stopped reaching out to him altogether. You decided that you'd wait to talk to him until he finally realized you weren't there. It had been about five weeks, and in those five weeks, you had gone to therapy and counseling.

You met Miles in counseling. He was sweet but seemed to get off topic a lot. When you were getting ready to leave one session, he had come up to you, put his hand on your shoulder, and let out a simple "Hey." One thing led to another, and you had both bonded over your losses. You went to Miles' uncle's funeral, and he went to Jay's funeral with you.

You were currently sitting on a swing at the playground as you waited for Peter. It was taking him forever to show, and at this point, you wanted to get this whole conversation over with.

Frowning, you looked around, wondering why he was taking so long. He should've been here by now. Maybe he decided not to come after all.

When that thought crossed your mind, you scoffed and stood up. Before you could go anywhere, however, you felt someone gently grab your hand. Looking back, you saw Peter staring at you with a small smile on his face.

"You came."

"Of course I did"

Peter pulls you towards him and wraps his arms around you. You take a deep breath as you stare off towards the slide. He pulls away when he realizes you're not hugging him back. The both of you pull away awkwardly as you look at each other.

"Peter-" "(Y/N)-" both of you speak at the same time.

"I- I have o tell you something" he starts with a stutter. You wait patiently as you motion for him to continue. "I know th-that I've been....not here for you for a while-" he cuts himself off when he hears you scoff.

"I.....I had these things, and I should've told you as soon as we started dating, and I'm sorry. I know I've been an asshole, more than that actually" you roll your eyes and shake your head as he continues.

"I just.....I love you, and I want you to know that even though I don't show it a lot" he finishes as he rubs the back of his head nervously.

The good thing about coming to this park was that there was usually no one here, and you were glad no one was here right now because boy were you fuming. "Told me about what Parker?" Your hand goes to your hip as you glare at him.

"W-Well....uhm......that guy that you talk to.......I'm like him I guess. Spider-Man." Your eyes widen when you hear the first part. "How the hell do you know I've been talking to someone?"

Peter stumbles with his words as he realizes he's been caught red-handed, "Uh...I was gonna visit yesterday, and I kinda....saw you..talking to him....." You narrow your eyes as you pick up a stick and throw it at him. He ducked before he could get hit, but you were already in his face.

"You were spying on me?!"

"I-I wasn't trying to! I was just-"

"Christ Peter!" All this time of you not being here, and now all of a sudden you just wanna show up out of nowhere because of what?! Jay?! Is that why you're finally talking to me?!" Panic stirs in Peter's eyes as he tries to come up with an excuse.

"I tried so hard to get you to talk to me, and you only wanna talk now because of that shit?! Peter, I can't do this shit with you anymore. I don't care if you're Spider-Man; what was the point of not telling me in the first place?! We live in New York for God's sake!!"

Your face is red as you frustratingly wipe away your tears with your forearm. Peter stays silent as he watches you; he can't say anything right now because you've hit the nail on the head.

"Y-You know what, fuck this. I can't do this shit any-anymore, Peter. But please tel-tell me; w-what did I do wrong? I di-did my best to keep both of us h-h-happy. Please, just tell me what I did wr-wrong." Your words are barely recognizable as you hold yourself to keep you're shaking body still.

Peter steps forward, but instead of stopping him like he thought you would, he cups your face gently as he looks into your eyes.

"(Y/N).....I'm so sorry I made you think this was all your fault. You did make me happy; you still do. I just...I've been so busy being Spider-man that I've neglected you, and I'm sorry for that. But I do still love you, (Y/N). I swear I'll stop doing everything just for you. I-I'll give up being Spider-Man."

You watch him unravel as he keeps talking. You can't bring yourself to care, however, as he spills his heart out. Too much disappointment has built up over the months.

"Pete...."

"Please......(Y/N), just give me another chance. I'll do anything, just please, don't leave me." His voice is soft and insecure as he begs you, almost quivering as he says it. It doesn't invoke any sort of feeling in you though. His sad eyes watch as you pull away from him,

"I'm sorry Peter" you whisper softly as you turn around and walk away.

He doesn't run after you or even shout.

Peter simply watches you walk away until you're out of view. The only thing he can hear is your footsteps as they fade into the distance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Alright so...this whole thing was based on how I could see him being Spider-Man in the beginning ig? Imo I feel like between him and Miles, the latter would be the first to tell you he's Spider-Man

And I always felt like him being away like that with no real reason would make an s/o feel like it's their fault or sumn. Like, I've always seen fics where he and the reader always make up about it, but I wanted to try the bad ending where even though he had good intentions, he's just not ready to handle being a hero, student, and partner.

#peter parker oneshot #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #miles morales #miles morales x reader #marvel mcu #marvel imagine #marvel one shot #peter parker imagine

116 notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 4 years

Text

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it. he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that. so happy ❤️

View all 9,208 comments

caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story. Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes? Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him. Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard. ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’). But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’ a source close to the couple reported.

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right. To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar.

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.

Is this the best she thinks she can do? So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer.

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate. From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship. Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson?? I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea. “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious. “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second. He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment. “I haven’t talked to him in… years? I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it. And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other. But he has his own problems. I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl. You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him. “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first. Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name. And I’m not perfect. Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly. “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries. When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away. “Don’t read the comments, okay? None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well. In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously? I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words. “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing. I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured. “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it? Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted. "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head. In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized. What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker. “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway. BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door. Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face. “Are you—?’

“Hungry? Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk. “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified. “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you! Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl. “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space. “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked. “And not just with random delivery drivers. I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!” You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained. “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen? By people?”

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes. “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened. “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked. “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning. “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed. “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off. “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought. “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do. I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled. “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky. “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table. “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already. I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb. I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you. I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek. “I think so, too.”

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress. “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant? You’re still paying me,” he reminded you. “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff. You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided. “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard? Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever. As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress. Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet. It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

629 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 4 years

Text

This Is Her?

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Request by Anon: well i was thinking of angel, something with him introducing his s/o to the mc if you're up for it? and ez was good friends with the reader already but didn't know at all they were with angel, so like big big surprise for everyone ❤ (and maybe angel gets kinda possessive too)

Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, the lightest and tiniest bit of angst, and a dash of jealous Angel

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: The whole idea of the reader and EZ already knowing each other was super intriguing to me, so that sort of became a bit of a focal point for this fic. Hope that’s okay haha. Enjoy! xo

Angel Reyes Taglist: @mayans-sauce @helli4nthus @angelreyesgirl @encounterthepast @lilacyennefer @everyhowlmarksthedead @starrynite7114 @queenbeered @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @sincerelyasomebody @mijop @sadeyesgf @xladymacbethx @thesandbeneathmytoes @blessedboo @appropriate-writers-name @holl2712 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @lakamaa12 @multiyfandomgirl40 @luckyharley1903 @sillygoose6969 @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @garbinge @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @enjoy-the-destruction

When Angel had invited you to go to a clubhouse party with him, you hesitated. You knew that you should have been jumping at the opportunity but there was something in your gut that was making you nervous. The two of you had been keeping your relationship quiet for a number of reasons, but mainly because he felt like he was keeping you safe by keeping you a little distant from the club. Deep down you both knew that if you were going to stay together, you couldn’t stay in the dark. But it also felt like there was an immense amount of pressure resting on your shoulders for this night to go well.

The other thing that was nagging at your mind, was that you had failed to mention to Angel that you already knew his brother, and you never told EZ that you were dating Angel. Not telling EZ about your relationship just fell into line with the two of you deciding not to tell anyone. You couldn’t quite pinpoint why you had never told Angel that you were already friends with his brother. You knew that deep down that EZ was an insecurity point for Angel, and maybe you just didn’t want to exacerbate that issue. But there wasn’t going to be any more hiding it, now.

He knocked on the doorframe of your bedroom, a smile on his face as he looked at you, “You ready, hermosa?”

You nodded, trying to come off more confidently than you really felt, “You bet. Just gotta grab my shoes and I’ll be good to go.”

“Wanna take the bike?” he offered.

You smiled, “I would love to take the bike.”

You were pressed snug up against Angel’s back as he rolled into the lot at the clubhouse. Part of you had no desire to let him go and get off the bike—you would’ve just ridden around with him forever if you could. But you knew that you’d done enough avoiding and it was time to just suck it up and get this over with. You knew it wasn’t ever going to be as bad as your brain was trying to make it out to be.

“C’mon,” Angel chuckled as he patted your hands that were still resting on his stomach, “it’ll be fun. I promise.”

With a tiny sigh, you let him go. After unclasping your helmet and handing it to him so he could hang it off the handlebars with his own, you swung your leg over and hopped off the bike. You smoothed your shirt out, trying to ignore the way that Angel was staring at you.

He stepped in and draped his arm around your shoulders, placing a soft kiss on your temple. Neither of you said anything as you made your way towards the clubhouse. You could hear the music and clamoring conversations from outside. There were a few people scattered around on the deck, but the fac that Angel didn’t try to stop and talk to any of them led you to believe that they weren’t the people of importance that he was bringing you here to meet.

He pushed open the door to the clubhouse and you were hit with a wave of heat that was tinged with the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke. It took you a second to get your bearings and get your mind right, but you didn’t have the time to be caught off-guard as Angel ushered you into the room.

“Am I gonna have to remember the names of all these people?” you asked quietly.

He chuckled and shook his head, “No, don’t worry about it,” he gave your hip a light, reassuring squeeze.

You’d heard a lot about all of the men in the club. That was one part of his life with the MC that he didn’t feel like he had to hide you from. Despite the fact that you didn’t have any faces to go with the names, except for Ezekiel, you knew a lot about each member of the club. It was interesting because you knew that they didn’t know anything about you.

“Y/N?” you heard EZ’s voice clearly through the noise of the clubhouse.

Angel couldn’t hide the surprise on his face as his little brother came up and wrapped you in a hug. You laughed and leaned into him for a moment, unable to lie to yourself about the fact that it was comforting to see him.

“Hey, EZ,” you smiled at him.

Angel was looking back and forth between the two of, very confused, “Was gonna introduce you to her, ‘mano, but it doesn’t look like I have to.”

Now it was EZ’s turn to look surprised, “She’s the girl you’ve been seeing?”

“She’s right here, you know,” you chuckled, “You can stop talking about me in the third person.”

“Sorry,” EZ chuckled and shook his head, “Just didn’t think that you were going to be the girl he rolled in with tonight.”

“Surprise,” you laughed.

“I’ll catch up with you later, alright?” he stepped in and gave you a quick hug before clapping Angel on the shoulder and making his way back into the thick of the party.

Angel motioned for you to sit down at the bar and you did, your nerves intensifying as he sat down next to you as he ordered each of you a beer. You twisted the bottle between your fingers as you waited for him to say something. You could see the thoughts swirling around in his eyes.

“So, you know Boy Scout?”

You nodded, “Yea. He came into the shop a while back. Asked for some really fucking obscure book that I had to place an order just to get for him,” you chuckled, “We hit if off well enough. Been friends ever since.”

“Didn’t think to mention that to me?”

You shrugged, “Didn’t know EZ’s last name at first. Once I put two and two together, though, it felt like it was too late to bring it up. We weren’t telling people about us and I know you feel some type of way about your brother sometimes. Just…didn’t know how to approach the topic.”

“He ever try and hit on you?”

You rolled your eyes and tried to suppress a smile, “No, Angel.”

“Good,” the serious expression fell away from his face as he allowed himself to smile. He leaned in and kissed you lightly on the lips, “’Cause you’re mine.”

You laughed, instantly feeling the knot in your stomach starting to loosen. You could handle the rest of whatever the night had to throw at you now that the cat was out of the bag. You reached over and rested your hand on Angel’s thigh as you scanned the clubhouse and tried to get your bearings.

“So, anyone else here that you already know?” Angel smirked over at you as he watched you look around the room.

You shook your head, trying not to laugh, “No, I don’t think so.”

As the night wore on, Angel slowly started introducing you to everyone in the club. Some of them seemed to fit all of the stories that Angel had told you. When you finally got to meet Coco for some reason everything that Angel had ever told you about him completely clicked into place in your brain. It was so much less intimidating that you thought it was going to be. Even when you met Bishop and the rest of the elders of the club, it wasn’t as off-putting as you had made it out to be in your head. They were surprised that Angel showed up with someone like you, someone who didn’t seem like they would put themselves in the middle of the Mayans clubhouse voluntarily. They were also surprised that Angel had been able to keep his mouth shut about you for so long. But they made sure that the brunt of their jokes landed on Angel, not you. If anything, the president of the club was extremely warm and inviting towards you.

“You’re a brave woman to be taking on that responsibility,” he nodded towards Angel with a laugh.

Angel chuckled and shook his head as he pulled you onto his lap, “C’mon, Pres, I just got her here. Don’t go trying to scare her away.”

“She doesn’t seem like she’s someone who scares easy,” he flashed you a wink and nodded, “Nice meeting you.”

You and Angel found yourselves curled up together on the couch. The two of you were sitting with Coco, EZ, and Gilly. It was impossible to listen to the four of them banter back and forth without laughing. You could feel Angel’s eyes on you as he tried to make sure that you were still comfortable with everything that was happening around you. He knew it was a lot to take in all at once.

“So,” Coco shifted the topic of conversation, “Boy Scout tells me that he beat Angel to the punch?”

Angel reached over and slapped Coco’s arm, “Shut the fuck up.”

You laughed, lightly tracing your nails up and down the back of Angel’s neck in an attempt to calm him down and distract him. You felt the way that his arms tightened around you at Coco’s comment. You knew it was all in good fun, but you also knew that it was touching a very exposed and sensitive nerve for Angel.

“I’m willing to bet money,” you spoke up, “that that’s not how EZ phrased it.”

“Thank you,” EZ said with a laugh before taking a swig of his beer.

You looked at Angel and despite the fact that he was smiling, his hold on you didn’t loosen at all. Once you had written off Coco’s comment, the guys jumped right to another topic of conversation. While they were all wrapped up in it, you leaned and placed a kiss on Angel’s cheek.

You leaned in so that your lips were right next to his ear, making sure that he was the only one who could hear you, “Loosen up, baby. Don’t let ‘em get under your skin,” you pressed your lips against his jaw, “I’m all yours.”

He leaned into your touch and you felt his arm loosen ever so slightly. You let out a sigh of relief as you leaned your head onto his shoulder, your fingertips idly tracing over the patches on his kutte as you listened to the guys banter back and forth amongst themselves.

When the night was beginning to wind down, Angel offered to bring you back home before you got too tired to safely stay on the back of his bike. You couldn’t deny that despite the fact that it had been a fun night, you were exhausted. You let him pull you up off the couch and the two of you made your way towards the clubhouse door, his arm draped around your shoulders and yours wrapped around his waist. He kept you pulled tight against him, but you could feel it in his touch that it wasn’t coming from a place of insecurity this time—you were his comfort.

The two of you said your goodbyes to the members who were still at the clubhouse, the few who hadn’t left or paired off with one of the women there. When you stepped out of the clubhouse and onto the deck, you saw EZ sitting in the steps, staring up into the sky, clearly lost in thought. Angel cleared his throat to get his attention, and EZ turned back to you both with a smile as he stood up.

“Heading out?” EZ looked at Angel.

He nodded, “Yea, before this one passes out on the back of my bike,” he gave his brother a hug, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He nodded, “See ya,” he pulled you into a hug, “You working tomorrow?”

You smiled, “Yea, I’ll be there all day.”

“Alright, I’ll try to stop in and see you.”

You didn’t have to be looking at Angel to know what his face looked like. And you could tell by the amused look on Ezekiel’s face that he was enjoying getting a rise out of his brother. You playfully rolled your eyes, “Please, come in and make more ridiculous requests. You know I love it when you make my job more difficult for me.”

“I know you do,” he had a cocky smirk on his face as he shook his head, “Get home safe. Don’t let Angel fly off the road.”

“I never do,” you laughed, “Goodnight, EZ.”

As the two of you walked away, Angel couldn’t help but to ask, “How often he come and visit you at work?”

You laughed and entwined your hand with his, “Just enough to bother you, apparently,” you shook your head slightly, “Better learn to let that shit go if you’re gonna keep letting me come around here.”

He looked at you, interest sparking in his eyes, “You wanna come back?”

You smiled, “Of course.”

“Wasn’t as bad as you thought it was gonna be?”

You couldn’t help but to laugh as the two of you approached his bike, “It wasn’t, no.”

He pulled you in for a kiss before handing you your helmet, “I’m glad you came.”

You smiled at him, lightly caressing the side of his face, “Me too.”

“But,” he chuckled as he swung his leg over his bike, “I’m even more glad that I get to take you home.”

You laughed as you climbed on behind him, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head against his back, “Yea, me too.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes fanfic #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

459 notes · View notes