Tumgik
#hell get a mask too for disguise
ninjasmudge · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
snake jaguar is cool he should be allowed to give rocky dangerbuff a makeover
213 notes · View notes
roosterr · 10 months
Text
white flag ✹ proglogue
note: can't believe i'm actually writing for ghost, yes he was the reason i got into cod, but i havent thought about him since like january lol. has this trope already been done? yes. am i doing it anyway? also yes.
Tumblr media
pairing: ghost x gn!reader
wc: 2.2k
no use of y/n readers callsign is 'stingray'
summary: if there's one constant in your life, it's that ghost doesn't like you, so when your house burns down and you have no choice but to move in with him, it feels like your life is on a steady downhill spiral.
warnings: slowburn, some angst, your house burns down, ghost is mean, sort of enemies to friends to lovers
ao3
【next】
Tumblr media
it's been almost a year since you'd joined the taskforce. nearly twelve months of gruelling hard work, and not for a single second had lieutenant ghost treated you with a shred of familiarity. at first, you thought he'd get over it, that he'd get past his obvious trust issues and warm up to you eventually, but you quickly gave up on that idea.
clearly, you'd been too optimistic.
which was unfortunate, considering how much you'd come to care for the prickly bastard, no matter how dismissive he was of you. it started slow; when you were first recruited, you held a great deal of respect for him because of his reputation, and you'd naively even looked forward to working with him. when you discovered his less than friendly demeanour, to say you were disheartened would be an understatement. he was withdrawn and stoic, never sparing you so much as a passing glance and a barked order,  whether you were in the field or not.
the other sergeants had assured you that he wasn't as cold as he comes across; soap and gaz both told you how he'd acted the same towards them when they first met – he was a lone wolf, not used to having to look out for teammates.
the more time you spent on missions with him, the more you saw of the person beneath the hard exterior. you saw how he seemed to know everyone's strengths and weaknesses, things you never would've picked up on. he always made sure the team had eaten, disguised as a gruff order to stay on your game. when he got angry, it would be because someone put themselves in danger, not because they screwed up the mission. you saw someone who'd been through hell and come out the other side swinging.
before, you'd respected ghost as a soldier and your superior, but now, after spending so much time with him, your perspective of him has changed. he intrigued you; he's quiet, introverted but not shy, more observant than you could imagine, and so closely guarded you wondered if he'd ever be able to open up. you'd only heard whispers of the things he'd been through in the past, so despite his obvious animosity towards you, you treated him with the respect you thought he deserved – like a person, and you'd hoped that with time, he could see you as more than just a soldier too. though he still didn't like you, you liked to think that the two of you have come to some sort of understanding.
and that leads you to your problem; you wanted to know him. every tiny crack in his facade made you more and more curious about the man behind the mask – about simon, rather than ghost, but from what you could tell, he didn't hold the same sentiment about you. where he would banter back and forth with the others over comms, he'd fall silent whenever you join in. every minute little mistake was amplified to him, you've lost count of the amount of times he's berated you for things he's excused for others. it made your heart ache that you just couldn't win with him, and you feared you'd never understand why.
but now, as you sit shivering with a shock blanket wrapped around your shoulders, watching the smouldering remains of what was your home in the middle of the night, freezing and exhausted, you'd never felt more hated.
you could hear them, ghost and the captain, talking in hushed voices a little ways down the road from where you sit. they probably think they're being subtle, discussing what to do with you like you're not even there, like every single one of your worldly possessions hadn't just gone up in smoke, but you hear them as if they're standing right in front of you.
"i wouldn't do this if there were any other options, simon."
"there are plenty of other options, just stick 'em in a hotel for god's sake."
"there's no hotels close enough to base – it'll only be temporary, 'till we can find 'em somewhere else."
"fuckin' hell, why cant they go with one of the others?"
"soap and gaz are already flatmates, you live alone and you're the closest to base. this is the only option that makes sense."
"i'm not fuckin' happy about this, price."
their profiles are momentarily illuminated by the blue lights from the fire engine parked nearby, allowing you for a second to see the withering glare ghost is sending your way, and all of a sudden the last couple hours of emotional distress is crashing down on you; his obvious distaste for you combined with the toll of watching your house literally burning down was too much for you all at once. you could feel the tears start to spill over again, but you can’t find the strength to stop them and just bring the shock blanket closer to your face. you’d lost everything, and even now he couldn’t find it in himself to feel an ounce of compassion for you? why can’t he care for you like he does the others? like you do for him?
as your watery gaze drops to the soot and ash covering your pyjamas, a voice sounds from beside you, the opposite direction from price and ghost. you don’t even realise you’re hyperventilating until they lay a hand on your shoulder and rub soothing circles into your back.
“hey– hey, it’s okay,” it’s gaz, you notice in the back of your mind, sitting on the curb next to you. you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to block out the world around you, and gaz brings you closer into his embrace. “you’ll be alright, we’ll get everything sorted, yeah?”
"i– i don't– i can't–" you try to speak, but you can't seem to form a coherent sentence through your sobbing.
"it's alright, just breathe for me." gaz hugs you tighter again, your head coming to rest on his shoulder as he consoles you. for a few minutes you stay like that, your breathing eventuslly returning to normal and the tears slowing to a stop.
price and ghost are still arguing, but you can't hear what they're saying anymore; probably for the best, if you had to listen to ghost complain about you for one more second you might really have a breakdown.
soap's voice cuts through the fog in your mind, "managed to find this, thought ya' might want it." you look up to find him crouching in front of you and holding out a slightly singed photo, a weak smile on his face. "frame's broken, but the picture's still mostly fine."
you take it from him, fingers grasping the card gently as you turn it around to look at the picture. it's from a few years ago, you and your friends from your previous unit, smiling into the camera as if you had no worries at all. staring at the ghosts of your friends starts you crying again, clutching the photo to your chest and leaning back into gaz's shoulder. if anything could've survived the blaze, you're grateful it was this. gaz rubs your arm sofly, whispering comforting words to you again.
you hear another set of footsteps approach and look up again to see price now standing in front of you as well. it's not exactly surprising, but ghost is nowhere to be seen.
"ambulance is here," price says, offering you a hand and pulling you to your feet when you take it. "i'll follow behind to the hospital, one of you two take their car to simon's."
you nod and retrieve your car keys from your jacket pocket, thankful you'd had the mind to grab it on your way out in your frantic state.
"I've got a bag in the boot, it's got some clothes in it." you mutter, handing the keys to soap, who smiles and gives you a pat on the shoulder.
"no bother, i'll grab it for ya." he says, and jogs off to where your car was parked, thankfully untouched out of reach of the fire. he returns not a minute layer carrying your duffle of emergency supplies, something you never thought would actually come in handy.
before you know it you're waving gaz and soap goodbye, the paramedics are guiding you to the back of the ambulance, and you're leaving what remains of your old home in the rear-view mirror.
✹✹✹
you hated hospitals. it was a fact, and it had been that way since you were a child, everything about them just made your skin crawl. perhaps you inherited the feeling from your mother; she always managed to bring up her distaste for the place whenever the topic arose. or, maybe you only hated them because they scared you.
either way, the relief you felt as you stepped out of the front door into the car park with price trailing behind you was palpable. he falls into step next to you as the two of you make your way over to where he parked, his keys jingling as he fishes them from his pocket.
"we're puttin' you up with simon for the time being, 'till we can get you somewhere else." his words make you wince; you already knew he was going to say that, but it didn't stop the anxiety from bubbling up in your chest.
"i heard." a beat of silence passes before you continue. "how long will that take?" you ask, climbing into the passenger seat and dropping your bag at your feet as price settles into the driver's side.
"i wouldn't get your hopes up. might be quicker to wait for 'em to rebuild your old place." he flashes you a smile, but you can't find it in yourself to return the gesture.
"right."
neither of you say another word as he starts the engine and pulls out of the car park. you turn to look out the window, watching the world go by, the quiet rambling of the radio serving as white noise in the background. it's the early hours of the morning now, the sun would be up in a few hours and you'd have to go back to work already – price did say you could have the day off, but honestly the last thing you wanted was to sit around all day with nothing to do but overthink.
after nearly ten minutes of trying to ignore it, the worry playing at your mind becomes too much to keep to yourself.
"you know he hates me, right?" you utter, half expecting price to ignore your question all together.
he clicks his tongue. "he doesn't hate you," price replies, and his voice sounds reassuring but it doesn't bring you much comfort.
"okay, well, he doesn't like me either." you turn your head to look at him, raising your brows. rolling to a stop at a red light, he meets your eyes and huffs.
"alright, he can be difficult–"
"really?"
"–but i promise you, he doesn't hate you." he says. you give him a disbelieving look, and he sighs, looking back to the road as the light turns green. "give him a chance, alright?"
"is he gonna give me a chance?" 
"he will." price says firmly, sparing you a look as he drives down the quiet road. "and if he doesn't, you'll knock some sense into him, eh?"
"sure…" you mutter, looking back out the window and falling back into silence. its only a few minutes until he's pulling over to the side of the road, outside the house number you know to be ghost's.
"sting," price calls out, stopping you as you reach for the door handle, "he'll come around, alright?"
"it's been a year, cap. i don't think he will." you reply, and before he can say anything else you open the door and step out into the night air, grabbing your bag from your feet before closing the door again. you give price a half-hearted wave as he pulls away again, before turning around and gazing up at your – temporary – new home.
it was nice, all things considered; a standard terrace on the end of the row, but the size has you wondering if there was even room for you to stay here. though it's not as if you have a choice. all the lights were off, which had you hopeful that you wouldn't run into ghost just yet.
you drag yourself to the front door, your eyes stinging from the effort of keeping them open, and twist the handle as quietly as possible, closing it behind you and cringing at the clunk it makes. thankfully ghost didn't hate you enough to lock you out for the night, something you actually wouldn't put past him considering how he feels about you.
there's a small side table in the entryway that catches your attention. on top of it sits your car keys – you make a mental note to thank soap in the morning – a new key, and a note. you pick up the paper, using the torch from your phone to examine the scratchy handwriting.
living room's yours. lock the door. – s
it's more than you expected from him. you sigh to yourself and pick up the other key, locking the door and shuffling into the small living room. the pull-out bed is made up for you, albeit quite messily, and you waste no time in dropping your stuff and laying your head down on the lumpy pillow.
with any luck, this arrangement wouldn't last long, but in the meantime you got the feeling you were in for a bumpy ride.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
scribs-dibs · 28 days
Text
i'm an orange moon...
(reflecting the light of the sun)
Tumblr media
major spoilers for 2.1, gn reader, it got a bit angsty i didn't meaaaan itttt, aventurine is touch starved and you Know how i feel about touchsta💥
wc; ~ 1.6k
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Aventurine,” the false lights of Penacony dance in your eyes when you look at him, and something sickening and foreign twists in his chest. “May I hold your hand?”
Tumblr media
Aventurine knows how to be an actor. He does so easily— his carefully crafted mask is more familiar than his own face. He is a performer first and a person second, because there is not a time or place on this or any planet where he can afford to lose anything more. The pieces of himself are barely put together, what is left of him seems to seep like sand between his very fingers. His family, his planet, himself, torn to ruin. And yet it is said that fate smiles upon him. The fractured pieces of himself are a blessing. What a funny thing fate must be, if his hell is said to be a heaven.
The mask must never slip, not even once— his life is a stage, corpses weighing heavy on his back, grasping hands chaining his feet, screams tearing his eardrums to shreds, and yet he must walk it anyway. And Aventurine will, and he will do it without missing a step. For this is what it means for him to live, his every breath a sin.
Aventurine knows how to keep a poker face. He does so easily— his smile is trained never to meet his eyes, it doesn’t know how to, and his hypnotic eyes are always trained on his next opponent, never leaving or faltering. He can’t afford to look away, to see what could possibly come next— to see what could hurt him, next. Aventurine could control nothing in his life. He couldn’t control the Katicans as they laughed as they took his father, or his mother, or his sister, and he couldn’t control when his swine of a master forced him to murder his fellow slaves, either. But he can control who he gets close to. He can control who he lets in, who is allowed to see what he looks like when his walls finally crumble.
Which, of course, is no one.
So it comes easily when he pushes well-meaning gestures away, or refuses a favor with that soft, styrofoam smile and a laugh. It’s not just second-nature, no. It’s the only one he has left.
Aventurine knows he doesn’t deserve the sanctity of being loved. This fact comes to him easily– all who have dared to try have been disappointed, and all who had mattered to him are gone. He knows it well, he is far too many pieces, far too broken, far too much of a mess for someone to come to try and fix. And this is fine, because he doesn’t have the experience to even fantasize about what he is supposedly missing. The closest semblance to friends that he has may as well be rivers or oceans away, with the amount of distance he has put between them and himself.
So you. You are strange to him.
Aventurine does not know what the hell your deal is. He doesn’t know how you got so close. He doesn’t know why you bother.
“Aventurine,” the false lights of Penacony dance in your eyes when you look at him, and something sickening and foreign twists in his chest. “May I hold your hand?”
That gives him pause. For a moment, his lips part, and his brows threaten to furrow under the weight of his pure bafflement. But, as always, his mask slips back on easily, a kind smile slotted into place.
“Oh? Afraid of getting lost?”
You walk beside him on the streets of Golden Hour, taking in the sequins disguised as stars and the specially-manufactured cool night air. He can’t tell if you’re naive or just easily impressed.
“No,” you say with a shake of your head, “Maybe I just…felt like it.”
Aventurine does not change anything in his face. There isn’t so much as a slow bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows, or a look of conflict crossing his features. There is no hesitation in his face, his mask, at all. But even so, when you look at him, through him, your kind smile finds a way to become kinder, and the tenderness in your eyes somehow becomes more potent.
“We don’t have to,” you don’t look disappointed, or even expectant, at all, “We can keep walking. Just this is enough as it is.”
“Just this” is the oddly peaceful silence as the two of you walk together. Your presence is comparable to a sun he never got acquainted with— he’s used to the storms, to the rock and sand, to the unyielding weather he was forced to endure, but this is different. This is just a walk, and there’s no search for water while the taste of blood coats his tongue, or the threat of thunder or biting cold. It is just peace at its purest. He extends his hand.
“Far be it for me to argue. Be my guest.”
You light up immediately, elated. He's thankful for his shades— the brightness of you is blinding. And he isn't quite prepared for the feel of you. Even through his gloves he feels the warmth of your hands— it is everything he is not. His own are ruined; he was pried from his home, and forced to take a bloody, bloody climb back up to earn his own humanity again. Aventurine’s hands are ruined beyond repair— no amount of washing can cleanse them, but yours, yours are so different. They aren't fully soft, you have work and hardships of your own, but they are gentle. Taking your hand feels easy because there are no expectations or commands hidden in the grooves of your palms. There are no hidden weapons behind your back, there is nothing but the feeling of flesh against the dark smoothness of his glove, and for a moment, he almost finds himself staggering.
How long has it been, since he touched another with no expectations? To not force himself to be overly friendly, to not appease anyone for the sake of getting information, to just exist, with someone else's hand in his?
The last willing touch he remembers feeling came with his fingers dipped in blood, salty tears thick on his taste buds. This is different from that. This is worlds away from that.
And Aventurine does not know how to feel. He doesn't know how to arrange his mask in response. There is no light in his eyes, not anymore, at least, but for a moment they are so wide with shock that Golden Hour’s stars swirl in the mix of blue and purple— a complex, vulnerable galaxy. Aventurine does not know how to feel. And it bothers him.
The tips of your fingers slide from his palms to the tips of his own, raking tiny sparks across the fabric of his gloves. Your fingers are interlocked now, and his head is spinning. You're everywhere. Under his gloves, under his skin, everywhere, and it's troubling. Strangely, he doesn't want to let go. For a moment —one that is fleeting and miniscule, barely a blink of an eye— his mask softens, melting around symptoms of genuine comfort, but his wounded heart kicks in defiance. The mask clicks back into place when your gaze meets his again, a smooth, porcelain smile easily greets you. Just as it has been taught to.
(His hands are nice. You know he thinks differently, has been taught to think differently, but they are firm under your palms and quickly warm to your touch.)
“Shall we?”
Distantly, he is aware of the implications of holding hands on a busy city street, encircled by onlookers and gossiping figures— this is the behavior of lovers, friends, family, people who are much, much closer than the two of you are. But your touch is…pleasant. It could mean trouble for you, to be seen with him when so many people have him under such a careful watch, (He is never truly free of people's stares or of their suspicion, and this makes associating with him more than a hassle.) but you know this, and have yet to keep your distance. Experimentally, he flexes his fingers around yours. It's faint, and a gamble if nothing else, but you squeeze him back almost immediately.
Aventurine knows he is greedy. This is intertwined into his being almost as tightly as the hold of your hands. He knows that this is a rare, fleeting moment, one that he will never get to indulge in again —not when his plans to discover the truth of Penacony are sure to succeed— and he knows that he will long for it once it ends, the sweetness of it clinging to his teeth. But he wants it. He wants this singular moment of peace, of keeping the mask on but for once not needing to perform. The city is busy as ever, bustling crowds and cheerful chatter echo up into the walls of tall buildings. It would be nice, to continue your walk together like this, with your soft, sunny hand in his. It would satiate his greed, if only for a moment.
But Aventurine knows he is not worth your time.
“It's been lovely, really,” he almost slips— he almost winces when your face falls. You aren't as practiced as he is when it comes to keeping a poker face. “But I really must be going.” His hand slides out from underneath yours, but it is not as easy as he thought it’d be. The ghost of your touch already serves to haunt him. A few steps back, and your warmth still lingers.
“Take care out there, alright?” he says it with a tilt of his head, his best, practiced and perfect smile easing the tension from your shoulders. Performing again, this time for a private audience.
He only gets a few steps away before you call for him again.
Aventurine knows how to pretend not to hear and keep walking.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
rbs w/comments are appreciated!! <33
553 notes · View notes
radiance1 · 5 months
Text
Vlad owns a bakery.
It is, however, on the very downlow. The CEO of a massively successful corporation being known as the owner of a mere bakery would make it far too easy for people to access him, which would then lead to him having to hire people to keep said people who didn't come for the bakery out and that would just really ruin the mood.
On the other hand, he's also keeping it a secret from the Fenton family, he doesn't need them trying to install their 'defense systems' into his bakery because first of all, he already had his own. Second of all he's strong enough that most ghosts don't even want to try him and he could take care of any normal human and thirdly, he doesn't want that bumbling fool to bust down his walls because he can't grasp the concept of a door.
His bakery is successful, not enough to be famous, but he has a steady selection of customers. He doesn't want his bakery to be famous either, he would prefer to keep a good pool of regulars that were nice and calm.
After all, money is never an issue.
Of course, he has a few part timers, who he pays handsomely for their time.
Simple logic really.
More money = happy = greater efficiency.
Of course, Vlad knows that he's overpaying them more than the normal amount, but does he care?
No.
Because after all, as he has said.
Money is never an issue.
Recently, there's been a man by the name of Constantine coming by his bakery, who came at first by recommendation, took one of his items, paid and then left.
Then came back a few days later, then when Vlad showed himself from inside his kitchen and personally took the guy's order (his usual part timer called in sick) and the guy seemed to stare at him for a second too long, before getting his stuff and leaving.
Then the time he visited became shorter.
And shorter.
Until he was visiting daily.
Constantine seemed to have a certain... interest, in Vlad whenever he was around, and of course, Vlad noticed. Why wouldn't he?
Now, Vlad normally wouldn't have the time nor want to respond to the crushes of people he couldn't care less about, especially when he had Maddie. But, after recently accepting that Maddie has no interest in him and finally deciding to let that obsession that was fueled by spite, pettiness and some misguided feelings go.
Well, you could say he had time.
And Constantine wasn't displeasing to the eye.
===
There was a demon masquerading as a normal man in this bakery.
Constantine was sure of it, the bakery owner didn't feel human, and Constantine could tell from a glance that he wasn't. He wasn't exactly expecting it though, going to a bakery after the one he actually liked shut down due to financial problems, and then finding its owner to be a demon.
He was surprised to say the least, as well as disappointed, because after dealing with the demon in disguise the bakery would most probably shut down.
Except, the owner wasn't going around secretly killing people in the dark or torturing their minds or making them his eternal servants. In fact, he seemed to be treating them well, if what he gathered was correct.
They had a far higher pay than a part timer would normally have, they could call in sick and Vlad would accept that, even say that they just couldn't show up or feel mentally able to do their job that day and Vlad wouldn't care, wouldn't fire them, just tell them to come in when they can.
Weird, for a demon.
So, Constantine stayed his hand.
But he was waiting, waiting for that mask to slip up juuuuust the tiniest bit, make the wrong move, and then Constantine would send him back to hell where he originated from.
It would be shame, the treats he cooked were delectable and completely and utterly normal. But he could just find another bakery to eat at.
Although probably not as good.
793 notes · View notes
forcebewitht · 2 months
Note
Hey, since book 6 has been out in English for a while, could we possibly see an Overblot!Idia x reader? I really love the idea of him dramatically taking off the mask he has on to kiss the reader.
A Dance With Death (Overblot!Idia Shroud x MC!Reader)
Tumblr media
(Artwork by: Trashochist on Deviantart, X (Twitter), and Instagram)
(Possible TW: Slight yandere implications, stalking, manipulation, branding)
…The time had finally come. All of the trials and tribulations that you had gone through. The pain and strife that had overtaken you in just a few short days. It had all led up to this. The kidnapping of your beloved companion, Grim. The destruction of the Ramshackle dorm. The kidnapping of those who had Overblotted that you had helped through their trauma and developed bonds with overtime. The kidnapping of even the Headmaster of Night Raven College himself. The entirety of these events had thrown Night Raven College into turmoil.
And that was just what excited Idia even more. He had been watching curiously since the very first moment you had arrived at the institution. I mean- a student that didn’t have any magic? Yet arrived within a coffin here to a school of magical students? It was unheard of- and just that alone excited him. This excitement only grew once the Overblots started. His family and organization, S.T.Y.X., had been all over the research of Overblotting for years. But now, after all of this time, someone so close to him (in the school, that is-) was at the forefront of a handful of Overblots? It was far too perfect of a chance to pass up with that new Ramshackle prefect. The plan was sprung, footage and data gathered. He knew that they were going to come for their beloved friends- they were just so cool like that. Literally a superhero in disguise, an underdog that soon had risen to be one of the top dogs within the school. There was a lot of promise with them- no. Not a promise. This was the work of the Fates themselves, he believed. The Fates themselves had led someone to him. Someone powerful. Someone strong. Someone capable of protection. Someone…that could get him back what he had lost all of those years ago.
There they were. Descending down to the depths of Hell that he himself had wrought. They looked horrible- worn for wear, really. To think, these oh so powerful figures from Pomefiore, Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Scarabia, and Octavinelle, alongside the hero of the school themselves, would be bashed and broken already from mere secondary bosses? They wouldn’t stand a chance against this final boss. Idia grinned beneath the mask that he wore, his arms folding over themselves as the Blot around his figure billowed with every breath he took. He could feel the immeasurable power coursing through his veins- and the normally pessimistic male found himself growing rather cocky the more they walked forward. His golden gaze soon landed upon his hero- his knight in shining…well, uniform. He soon was speaking, his arms outstretched as the flames protruding from his figure began to blaze brighter- hotter.
“Bum bum buuummmm~! Our heroes have finally arrived to the final boss battle! But uh ohhhhhh~ looks like they didn’t level enough, now did they~?”
You found yourself gritting your teeth at Idia above. Already, Vil, Rook, and Epel were readying themselves at your side. The rest soon followed, the weapons they had gained during their prior fights with the Overblot Beasts being raised and ready to overwhelm Idia’s Blot. Idia began to cackle, raising his hands in mock surrender.
“Uh ooohh~! Eheheheheheheeeee~! They found the special gear~! But that’s really not gonna do much, you guys! Totally on top of my game, y’know~? These HP and attack stats are through. The. ROOF!”
With his words, Idia’s Overblot Beast, Ortho, began to unleash a flurry of attacks upon you and your party, forcing all of them to scatter across the area. The Beast seemed to know precisely what to do- orders most likely given before this entire fiasco began. You began to find yourself being slowly but surely separated from everyone else thanks to the Beast’s targeted attacks. This separation was key- this was what Idia wanted. He watched as you eventually were cornered entirely, exactly where he wanted you. Once more, a grin spread out under his mask. You looked so cool and tough despite all of this neverending pressure, still shouting out commands for the others to work together to defend themselves, each other, or deflect the attacks his Beast was allowing itself to barrage them all with. He soared downwards until he was finally just before you. You had jumped back slightly upon noticing him approaching, but there truly was nothing that you could use at this time to defend yourself with. He leaned forward, his clawed hands now pressing themselves to either side of the wall beside your head.
“There you are~! The hero themselves~! The shining star of the hour- no, the entirety of Night Raven College~! This is our final stage, (Y/N)! Isn’t it thrilling~?”
“Idia, this is absolutely crazy! You are going to wind up killing us all with thi-”
A clawed finger pressed itself against your lips as he shifted, shushing you gently as he rolled his glowing amber eyes.
“Okay, listen- babe. (Y/N). Baby. Babycakes. Sweetheart. Sweetie pie. Wonder Student. I’m gonna stop you riiigghhtt there, actually- because I know. I know about the whole thing. But you’re gonna be my hero, you know~? You are going to save a life- just like you’ve been doing! So, it’s all good, ‘kay~?”
You began to attempt to protest, but you soon found yourself being swept into Idia’s arms and pulled about. The crazed Overblotted Idia now began to waltz with you despite all of the destruction around the both of you. He sighed blissfully, his eyes burning ablaze with a fiery passion- it was unnerving. He leaned forward once more, now beginning to hush into your ear through that glowing mask he wore.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment, (Y/N). The countless hours I have spent watching and studying your damn near every move…I know your exact schedule bit by bit, y’know, ehehehehee~ I mean, with you and your coolness, you never know when you’re gonna stop another Overblot, honestly. But that coolness that you have doesn’t matter down here- and y’know why~?”
Your eyes soon widened considerably as you felt Idia grab onto your arm. One of his clawed fingers now was set ablaze with a small, blue flame. His grip was tight- commanding in every sense of the word. The flame began to trace itself upon your flesh as he continued to speak- ignoring your cries and attempts to struggle away from him.
“I know everything about you. I have seen your struggles. Your pain. I mean, separated from your home, whatever friends and family you had before…and thrust into a world of magic without any magic yourself. You have been left in the cold by the Fates themselves to fend for yourself. You struggle simply to survive from day to day without any money here…you struggle to maintain your cool and calm composure and keep people like those Heartslabyul first years and the little guy in line…and you then have to deal with the rantings and ravings of spoiled brats like those that Overblotted and, despite wanting for it all to just end, have to buck yourself up instead and keep them from ending it all? It is just an endless cycle of pain, regret, and a loveless life that you have fallen into.”
The more Idia spoke and you felt that flame burning upon your arm, the more you found yourself getting lost into the swirling golden pools upon his sleek, pale, oddly handsome face that were his eyes. For the first time since you had arrived here…you actually genuinely felt seen. You felt heard. Oddly enough, from someone that you had truly rarely seen outside of his own room within the confines of the school itself. Your own gaze finally shifted down to your arm as his finger retracted. He had burned the insignia of his family’s company, S.T.Y.X., onto your flesh. He blew out the fire on his finger, now grinning once more wickedly beneath his mask as his clawed hands now seized you by the waist once more, pulling you into his deadly embrace.
“I know, I know. I know it hurts. All of that going on and absolutely nothing to ever truly be gained from it all…well, my Wonder Student…that’s gonna end for you right now. With what I just gave you…you are mine. And when you’re mine, you have a purpose. You will be protected, provided for. No longer shall you be within the confines of a cage and hidden away in the shadows- you shall be the bright and shining star in our tale- and properly get those monetary stats and all of that raised~!”
Idia’s hand whisked over his face- where that mask was nestled. The mask faded away, revealing his pearly white, razor sharp teeth. They glistened at you as it felt Death was grinning at you- which it essentially was. His royal blue lips curled upwards into a wicked grin as he tugged you even closer to himself, now leaning all of the way forward towards you.
“C’mon~”
He began to pull you with him once more, twisting and turning your body with himself. His clawed hands trailed up and down your figure within your shared dance of destruction, his thoughts split between what he would do with you now that you belonged to him…and that of his brother’s life that you soon would pull up from the depths of the Underworld for him. You all would be a family together- and that only seemed to excite him further as his motions grew swifter, yet sly. He soon had you dramatically dipped, and his lips captured yours in a warm, passionate kiss…thus beginning your true dance with death.
~End~
364 notes · View notes
antiwhores · 2 years
Text
Bakugou’s sidekick with a mask
Bakugou has known his sidekick for 3 years now and he has not once seen your face. No one has. Hes getting curious too with the crush he’s harboring.
Yall I gotta take my braids out today but im not tryna do that. Also, my friends keep calling me mommy. Im childless!
Part 2 👇🏾
Tumblr media
Bakugou has never, not ONCE, seen your face.
You work at his agency as his sidekick and yet he has no real idea what you look like. You’re documents are proved secure so you’re not a villain in disguise. And even so, he would’ve caught you acting suspisous by now. You just really don’t wanna show your face.
No one has seen your face in the agency. You walk around with a full face mask and suit like some spider-man wannabe and never take it off. Not even in the girls locker room! And oh, the female workers have tried to pry it off you.
As a little inside joke between the both of you, Katsuki offered a reward to anyone in the agency who could catch you without your mask on and tell him what you looked like.
They would hide in lockers and wait for you to take off your mask. They would be seething with excitment, practically hyperventilating. Then you would pull off the mask to reveal another mask.
This cracked Bakugou the hell up when he heard the gossip. The whole situation honestly only made his fondness for you stronger
This same procedure repeated a whole bunch of other time too. They would think they finally caught you then you would reveal another mask. One of them even tried sneak attacking you to rip the mask off. Only to reveal another mask.
The masks the multiplied while the amount of people trying divided until everyone gave up and there were about a hundred of your masks hanging around.
Of course, Bakugou was curious. Especially since during the 3 years of you being his annoying sidekick, he’d started to feel some unwanted love and attachment towards you. How was he supposed to ask you out if he didn’t know who he was asking out? Not that he cared what you looked like. Its just he wanted to know to feel… special.
He had managed to pry a bit of information about you along with sarcastic comments:
“Okay. Just answer my questions if you’re not gonna let me pull that damned mask off.”
“Ugh, why’re you so curious? Are you wondering if I’m insanely hot? I am, now leave me alone.”
“No you fucking idiot, its just unfair.”
“Unfair?”
“Yes unfair, I’ve known your dumbass for 3 years. We hang out outside of work, we’ve almost died together like 40 times, and you’ve seen me almost naked!”
“Not by choice! I swear, you should’ve locked the door!”
“IT WAS THE BOYS BATHROOM!”
“OKAY AND?”
“Oh my fucking god. Anyway, all that shit and I dont even know what your dumbass face looks like! You could just walk by me out of costume and I’d have no damn idea who you were.”
“Yeah, thats the fun of it! Makes me feel like a spy.”
He gives you a serious look, “y/n-“
“Uuuuugggghhh, fine you whiny bitch. What do you wanna know?”
“What race are you?”
“What race do you think I am?”
“I’ve seen your skin sometimes when your costume breaks. Also I know you’re from y/c so your probably y/r.”
“Racist.”
“Im gonna fucking murder you!”
“You’re correct, you smart cookie! Anything else?”
“Yeah-“
“EHHHHH! Only one question every 3 years Katsuki!”
“THREE YEARS?-“
Eventually he does see you outside of work but just as he suspected, he has absolutely no idea its you.
There was a villain attack happening and you were oblivious to it. Or more like you couldn’t afford to do something right now. You had forgotten your costume but thankfully you heard familiar explosions accompanied with the voice of Sero.
“Oh, they got this.” You mumbled as you continued to walk in the direction of your apartment. You took a bite out of a piece of the cheesecake you went all the way across town to get.
The deluctable flavor, and maybe your lack of care, stopped you from realizing a literal car was fly towards you. Honestly, you’d walk out pretty okay if it hit you, banged up but alive, and thats all you needed. You also overused your quirk yesterday and now you’re basically quirkless so there wasn’t really anything you could do without loosing your cheesecake and that was worth more than your life.
Just as you prepared for the car by taking another bite you were swooped up into warm arms. The stranger had flung himself and you into the air. You couldn’t bring yourself to even care cause YOU DROPPED YOUR FUCKING BAG OF CHEESECAKE.
You screamed at the man, it all came out muffled due to your mouthful.
“WHAT TE FEK? MY CHESS CAKE! GO BAIK!”
The man whos arms you were in ignored you. He went to drop you off on top of the building you were standing under but you immediately jumped off.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!?” The man screamed. He must’ve thought you were doing this just to die.
He blasted himself down to grab you before landing on the ground safely.
“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
You were about to turn around to answer but the words died in your throught at seeing your partner. So you just pulled yourself away from his grip and walked over to the bag. You picked it up with a bright smile before continuing your walk.
He grabbed the back of your shirt before you could get away. “Do you have a fucking death wish or something?!” You broke the piece that you were about to grab into two. You took the other piece and shoved it in his mouth.
He looked like he was about to murder you but you just threw him a thumbs up. He spit the cake out, earning an insulted scream from you. “What the hel-“ Before he could finish the sentence he was interrupted by Sero. “BAKUGOU! If your finished flirting with the civilian… COME HELP ME!”
Its like he remembered he was in a fight by the way his face hardened. He grabbed your neck, turning you to face him. “Leave. I don’t wanna see you around here again. And definitely not for no fuckin’ cheesecake.”
You nodded feverishly, a blush was creeping up your cheeks. You felt exposed looking him straight in the eyes. Like one wrong move and he knew everything about you.
He mumbled something about you reminding him of another dumbass he knows before blasting away.
The next day when you guys were patrolling he told you the story. You couldn’t stop laughing at how he described whom he didn’t know was you. “Yeah and then she wanted to fucking give me attitude and shove cake in my mouth!” You giggled, “Was it at least good cake?” “YES!”
5K notes · View notes
bandgie · 8 months
Text
Pretty Boy
idol!BangChan x sexworker!reader
a/n: I have another fic in the works, but enjoy this one plz
synopsis: Christopher is a stressed guy. It doesn't matter what he tries to do to relax, he always finds himself planning and nonstop thinking. In an act of desperation, he finds himself in a sex club, wishing for someone to help him turn off his brain. You're more than happy to oblige...for the right price.
cw: NO MINORS 18+ ONLY, PIV, unprotected (no!), sub!chan, light degrading and praising, oral (m!receiveing and mentions of f!receiving), handjob, pullout method (no!), sex club.sex worker (obvi), mentions of alcohol, not proof read lmao, Chris's face is hidden, playful teasing, overstimulation (m!receiving), slight cum eating
4.7k words oops
Tumblr media
No one will find out, no one will see you. It's a mantra Chris finds himself repeating as he makes his way towards the low lit building deep into the night. He wears all black, a beanie and mask covering his face hoping that it'll disguise him. His hands are shaking as he open the doors, immediately hit with the smell of booze and smoke.
He should leave. Coming here was a bad idea to begin with, but the thoughts in his head were too loud, too persistent, he had to do something about it. There's no way he could keep staying cooped up in the studio, his room, that godforsaken building. It was his heaven, but his hell all at the same time.
The place Chris found himself at was a normal club, people sweaty and rubbing up on each other. He didn't come here to dance though, he came here to forget, to make bad decisions. Chris didn't know this place directly, but he's heard about it from Lee Know who tended to frequent here when he got stressed. If he went to the bartender, asking for a certain someone and pulled a good amount of cash out, they would let him though the secret doors. To the place where real deprived people went.
People like Chris.
So he walked through the bodies of people, ignoring how some touched and groped him. The decision he was about to make further solidified when he stood in front of the bar, watching the three bartenders who were busy mixing drinks. Make sure to ask for the bartender with black hair, Lee Know had instructed. The other ones don't know about the hidden rooms, I had to learn that the hard way.
Then he stopped the bartender with pitch black hair. They had no piercings, no tattoos unlike the their coworkers. They look unassuming, boring, the perfect disguise. The bartender noticed Chris's staring, their eyes snapping to his. They walked over to Chris, carefully setting down the served drinks to a nearby group.
"What can I get you?"
"Uhh..." Chris hesitated. This is his last and only chance to back out. Maybe it would be better to get a normal drink and get drunk with the sea of people around him. No, he came here for a reason. Chris didn't do all this mental preparing for nothing.
"I'm here to see Aphrodite," Chris managed to speak. He watched at the bartender's eyebrows went up, a lot of surprise on their face. "I think you have the wrong person," they replied, taking a few steps back to indicate that they were done with the conversation.
They'll probably ignore you at first, Lee Know predicted. Show them the money, and say Rino sent you. 'Rino?' Chris had laughed at the nickname. 'Yeah dude, can't use your real name at places like those.'
"No," Chris spoke firmly to the bartender, "I think I have the right person." With that, he discreetly pulled out his wad of cash. Korean wons bundled up nicely in his hands. The bartenders eyes went wide, practically turning into green upon the sight.
"Rino sends his regards."
That was enough for the dark haired bartender to tell their coworkers they were stepping out for a bit. They went around the counter far from Chris, beckoning their head in a come here motion. Chris shoved the cash in his pocket and followed the bartender to the back.
They walked until they were at the employee only bathroom, which was surprisingly empty. They both entered the restroom which looked normal at first, save for the weird paintings on the wall. Before Chris had the opportunity to question the bartender, they held out their hand expectantly. The money.
Chris shoved his hand in his pocket and put the money in the hands of the bartender who looked overly pleased.
"The sunflower painting is the door. When the person asks for the code tell them 'in the east.' You're good to go." The bartender didn't spare Chris another glance, instead counting the money they had. Chris took a deep breath, shaky fingers prying the sunflower painting back which revealed a small hallway.
He followed it, shutting the door behind him as he continued on. He was soon enough met another door, knocking on it loudly. The door slightly opened, showing a large man who seemed rather displeased on seeing him. "Where does it look?" The guards voice was gruff, annoyed.
"In the east."
The guard stepped aside, allowing Chris the entry he so desperately waited for. Chris debated on saying thank you, but he was too shocked by the secret room that he didn't have the chance to contemplate. The actual club was dirty, smelly, hot. This room was almost sophisticated, even in how the people dressed.
Women and men were dressed in fine clothing, Chris felt underdressed. Worse than that though, he stuck out like a sore thumb, something he was trying to avoid. The people nearby on sofas looked at him with disgust, it made his skin crawl. On instinct, Chris looked upwards to the ceiling to avoid their judging gaze, and that's when he finally noticed the women in the skies.
The were in large bird-like cages, performing in their exotic outfits. Some cages were lower than others, allowing the men and women below to throw cash at them. When Chris walked even deeper into this room, the women in cages were nude. He was thankful for his mask that hid his blush.
Chris was overwhelmed, his heart was nearly in his chest. He was thankful when he saw a nearby bar, this one much less populated from the previous one. He made his way towards it and took a seat at the booth, asking for a vodka on the rocks.
"First time I take it?" The bartender asked. He served Chris in a smaller sized cup, eyes attentively on his. "Is it that obvious?" Chris asked before taking a sip at the drink. The bartender chuckled, "Very obvious. What are you here for? Gambling? The shows? The drinks? The sex?"
Chris almost choked at his beverage, wiping his mouth as the bartender smiled. "Ah, so it is the sex then," he laughed. "No worries friend, no judgement here. A private room will cost you a lot, but if you ask for a low-grade woman I think they do it cheaper." The bartender then handed him a sheet of laminated paper. On it were names, and prices with so many zeros it made Chris's head spin.
"The backside has the women more in your price range I assume," the server guessed. "A lot of men come here asking for the main girl, but they waste their money too fast. Can't have your cake and eat it too ya know?" Chris nodded at the man's words, thankful for his insight.
Chris scanned the names, guilt eating at him for ordering women like food. The names were all from Greek mythology which a description of how they were like when it came to their service. It made his excited and nervous all at the same time.
It took a few minutes before Chris decided on a woman named Nyx. He didn't know much about the goddess, but he liked the description he read;
Nyx, the goddess of night, who prefers to be in charge. Don't let her sweet face trick you, she's all for the darkest dreams you have. A night with her will make you fly high.
Chris handed the 'menu' back to the bartender, tapping on the name. "Is uh...that a good option?" Chris anxiously waited as the bartender pursed his lips, thinking. "Nyx is not an easy woman to tame," he advised. "Most men like to take the lead, Nyx won't let that happen." Chris sighed in relief, "That's perfect."
It didn't take long for the arrangements to be made, for you to be alerted of your new customer. Your boss told you he was waiting in the room nearby, and to hurry up on getting ready. You ignored your boss, used to his annoying antics.
You applied your lipstick, ignoring the excitement in your belly. It's been a while since someone has requested you, since you've seen a new face. Most of the men that see you are older, too old to actually do anything than lay there. You needed something new, something that wasn't a fossil.
So when you heard that the man who requested you was in his mid 20's, you beamed with glee. A small part of you, though, was nervous. You have encountered men that came with the intention of making you submit, liking the challenged you proved to be. You would never though, unless they paid extra.
Still, you were hopeful that he wouldn't be like that. That this man, whose name is supposedly 'Koala', would let you do your job properly. It's why you dressed up extra nice, spraying your expensive perfume, and wearing your favorite heels.
You looked at yourself in your vanity mirror, satisfied. You left your room with the sound of your heels clicking, making your way to the room with the man you were going to have sex with. Once you approached the door, you gently knocked, waiting for the nervous come in that soon followed.
He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his hands on his black jeans. He straightened up upon seeing you, his eyes scanning your body. You closed the door and smiled sweetly at him, "Hey there 'Koala', how's it going?"
You walked towards him, sitting on the bed. Oliver, the bartender that told you about you client, informed you that it was 'Koalas' first time. Basically saying to take it slow, to not scare him away. Even without Oliver telling you, you could tell it was his first time. He wore dark clothes, kept his face completely hidden save for his brown eyes that peeked through.
"Uh, ya know, it's going," he laughs dryly. You hum, gently placing your hand on his shoulder. He stiffened under you, not daring to look your way. "I get it, you're stressed," you purr. "How about a massage? Do you wanna start there?" It took a moment for him to nod, pulling of his shirt and leaving it on the floor.
Your jaw almost dropped to the floor seeing his physique had it not been for your Nyx persona. He was well-built, strong. He had lean muscles that trailed over his body. It took a second for you to take your place behind him, carefully kneading his shoulders. Still, he had his mask on.
"Are you gonna keep that on the whole time?" You asked. You moved your hands lower down his back, pressing your thumb into the parts that seemed tense. God, his skin is so smooth. He nodded, "Yeah, if that's okay." It was a dead giveaway that he was someone popular, someone with a big name. A lot of the people that came here were famous, but took off their mask once alone in the room.
"Of course that's okay," you soothe. "It does make me wonder why though. Do you think you're unattractive?" You leaned down to kiss his back, letting your lips linger on his skin. He sucked in a breath, "I don't think I'm...pretty." You kept giving him kisses, noticing that he shivered when you were on his neck.
"Do you normally care what people think about you that much?" You pressed. Your hands were exploring his backside, his arms. "Yeah, I do," he confessed. You were surprised to hear him admit that, but you took it as a sign that he's getting more comfortable with you.
You nodded, applying some pressure on his shoulders to lay him down on his back. The man let you maneuver him, his hands placed by his sides. "What a stressful way to live," you fake sympathy. You're positioned yourself over him torso, pressing kisses to his abdomen. "Is that why you called for me? Wanted someone else to take control of your life for a night?" You didn't see him nod his head, too busy with tasting his skin.
'Koala' had gotten less tense, even sighing contently you met the waistband of his pants. You unbuttoned the top his pants and he lifted up his hips to make it easier. You pulled them down to see his boxers, slightly tented up. You smiled, moving downwards to be face to face with his half hard on.
With gentleness you touched him through his boxers. He was warm even through his clothing, and happily rubbed him in appreciation. He groaned, thrusting his hips up to get more friction. You bit back your laughter, pleased with his desperation. It makes it all easier on you to take control. Not that you needed to try hard anyway, he was more than willing to let you take the reins.
"Do you want me to take these off baby?" Your voice was slurty. With a breath caught in his throat, he nodded. "Nuh-uh," you tsked. "I wanna hear you say it." 'Koala' lifted his head up his hooded eyes meeting yours. "Please take them off. Nyx, I need you to do whatever you want to me. If I don't like something I'll let you know, but you're doing amazing so far."
That's all the permission you needed to strip him nude. His words left you flushed, even speechless. It's been a while since someone complimented you in such a way, as if they depending on you. It was a weird power trip, but you indulged in it nonetheless. You placed yourself between his legs, grabbing his length in awe. His cock was a pretty color, slightly darker than his torso. His tip was flourished in pink, eager to be played with.
You weren't even touching him much, gentle hands squeezing and stroking. It must've been a very long time since he's been with someone because of how much he was moaning. A part of you felt pity for the man, it's obvious how lonely he's been. You start to wonder what type of job he must have, how isolating it must be.
Since when I start caring about their personal life, you snap out of your thoughts.
With his heavy cock in your hands, you angled it to your mouth. You let your hot breath waft over his dick, watching 'Koala' squirm from the sensation. A part of you wants to tease him, to ghost around him and drive him crazy. You know better than to of that though, he needs unbearable pleasure to forget his life, even if for an hour.
So you lick a stripe up his length, running your tongue over his sensitive head. He whimpered, a beautiful sound that encouraged you do to more. "I can't believe you don't think you're pretty. You should hear the sounds you make. So pretty," you praise him. The man responds well, smiling lazily.
You feel his hands shift onto your head, gently stroking your hair. Ah, he's the romantic type, you think. You place the head of his cock into your mouth to ket your mouth adjust to his shape. He tastes clean and you find loving his musk. You moan on his dick, pressing your head down a little further until you feel your throat tightening.
Chris keened at your lips as he pulled your hair back in a make shift pony tail. He watched as your head bobbed up and down in a fluid motion. He knew his cock was a little thicker than average, and to see you so desperately fit in all in your mouth was more than enough to make him want to finish then and there.
He can tell were trying not to gag around his cock, instead having your eyes water at the stretch. You called him pretty? You should see yourself. Lips red, swollen, glossy as you roll it over the head of his cock. How your waterline threatens to have tears spill every time you blink up at him. The way Chris can see the head of his cock poking out of your cheek. Yeah, you should be the one called pretty.
With his cock wet and hard, you've decided that it was enough to get to the main course. It took strength to pull away from him as your mouth begged to be full again. The man below you missed the touch too, he whined and thrusted his hips up to get you back on his dick. You giggled, using your dominant hand to give him a couple of good stroked before you sat up.
Your customer's eyes never left you, and despite being the only one who still wore clothes, you felt nude. He was looking at you, a person; not you, the object. It made you feel confident, nervous, shy, respected. Maybe it's the fact that because his eyes are all that you can see, it intensifies his gaze more. Still, it was a feeling you hadn't experienced since taking on this job.
"You having a good time baby?" You don't really need to ask. You can tell how eager he is when you straddled him, pinning his chest down with your hands. He reach up to kneed your ass, squishing the soft flesh. "Fuck, you have no idea," he moans. It was then that you notice a slight accent, information you'll tuck away for later.
"I think I do," you challenge. "Look at hard you are, you got my little pussy all wet just from sucking you off." To prove your point, you lifted the little flimsy skirt you had on to flash your cunt. You used one hand to separate your folds, showing your arousal to the man before you.
On instinct, he moved his hand from your ass to touch you. He literally moaned merely from touching you, playing with the wetness. "Shit," he swore. "Is that all for me?" A sudden rush of heat bubbled in your stomach and chest. He must've said it in the heat of the moment, but you couldn't stop the blush in your cheeks from forming.
You bit your lower lips and nodded. You pulled your hand away from your pussy and placed you fingers in your mouth. 'Koala' watched as you tasted yourself, his eyes desperate and wanting. "I would offer you a taste, but I don't think that can happen, can it?" You teased. A look of regret flashed in his eyes for a second. "Don't tempt me," he played right back.
You laughed softly with him, lifting your hips up to finally put his cock where it belonged tonight. You grabbed the base of his cock the angle is towards your entrance, rubbing it to mix your essence. You should wear a condom. You always wear a condom with customers, this man should be no exception. Still, you can't find it in yourself to stop just to grab a rubber. Next time, you promise yourself.
If there is a next time.
Chris clenched his teeth under the mask as you slowly sunk onto him. It was only his tip that was in and he could already feel how tight you were. His eyes were on you as you placed your hands on his torso, carefully relaxing onto him. He heard you loudly hum when you finally took him all in, cunt clenching sporadically around him. A blissful sound left Chris's lips. The feeling of being warm, hugged in all the lewdest way possibles was almost emotional.
Now that you were finally full of him, you rocked against him experimentally. He was girthy, much more than ones you were used to. 'Koala' let you adjust to him, keeping a firm hand on your sides as you grind on him. He really is letting you take fun control, your own personal, warm dildo. You could get used to that.
Your walls were finally accustomed to his cock. You could feel how your pussy molded with him inside pretty much perfectly. You started with gentle bounces, warming up your legs. It was already known that you client was pretty vocal, but you underestimated just how loud he could get. How much he could groan from mere seconds of your riding.
The man cursed, heavy breathing to a point where you thought the mask might be a hazard. "Fuck...shit! I'm s-sorry, it's just so- oh-" he cut himself off with a series of whines. Yeah, there's absolutely no doubt in your mind that he hasn't been getting any in probably years. Instead, you comfort him, something you wouldn't normally do for pathetic customers. "That's okay babe, just means I'm doing a good job huh?"
He nods frantically, half listening and half in a different headspace. It doesn't take you long to start riding in a rougher manner. You could hear how your ass slaps against his thighs. It does take a lot power to keep your composure. To not get lost in the pleasure this man is so willing to be for you. Even in this state, you need to keep it at least somewhat professional.
'Koala' just feels too good. With how his raw dick is sliding easily in and out of you, how he stretches you out in pleasurable angles, when his head hits the very deepest parts of you. Being cowgirl has usually given you the advantage in most cases. Like this, you're able to have your customer not fully settled in, just having a maximum of half their cock inside until they finish. With this guy, you just had to have all of him inside. It was a need.
Your knees were planted on the bed, your hands now placed to hold spill your boobs from the bralette you wore. You cupped your breasts, playing with your nipples as you rocked on him. The man below you groaned, using one hand to move up to also play with your chest. He gently squeezed you, feeling how you settled against his palm. When he decided he had a good feel, he moved his fingers to your nipples.
Not that you could see, but he was salivating. Mouth so desperate to taste at least some of you. He wanted to take your bud in his mouth and bite, lick, suck. You would sound so good, so pretty. You already did, truthfully. He could tell you were holding back though. You tended to barely keep your lips parted as you signed in pleasure. Your moans were soft, careful. He wanted more, he needed to hear how good you were feeling.
You weren't about to let him do that though, not when you bringing him so close to orgasm. His dick was turning an angry red with the blood flow and his hands had gotten more possessive. He helped you with your ride, bouncing you up and down on his cock even though you both knew he wasn't supposed to do that.
Still, you let him have an ounce of control. Plus it helped hit him deeper in your pussy.
"You feel it baby? Gonna come inside my pretty little pussy?" You were breathless as you spoke. You were sure he didn't even hear you with all the groaning he was doing, but he actually began to nod his head. "Fuck yeah....So deep," he whined. "Gonna give you all of it." With determination, he thrusted upwards. You squealed at the impact, biting your lower lip to suppress the moans you wanted to release.
His grip was strong on you, but you knew better than to actually let a man raw dog you and cum inside. You're not in love with him or anything.
So imagine the cry he let out when you grabbed his wrists to rip off your sides, lifting yourself completely off his wet cock. You feel empty without him, but it's a sacrifice you have to make. With your hand, you jerk him off. His dick is slippery and warm, like a trophy of the pussy you gave him.
Chris fisted the sheets, back practically arching off the bed as your soft hands stroked him. It hurt, he was overstimulated. So much pleasure that it was unbearable, especially on the head of his cock. You were merciless and you knew that you were giving him too much. Still, he couldn't stop the deep sob from his chest. The cum the shot through his cock onto his chest, your hands.
You purred at the sight, slowing your strokes at collect his orgasm. He was still crying under you, his pretty eyes glazed with tears. "Oh what a good boy," you praise. "All this for me?" You mocked his earlier words. He laughed, though it sounded more like a sigh.
"Maybe I could have a taste." With that, you leaned down to place you mouth on his semi hard dick. He hissed at the contact, showing how sensitive he was. That didn't matter, you still sucked a little harder than you should've. You could taste his cum in your mouth, surprised that it didn't taste bad. He's staying hydrated at least.
You let a few more licks take place before pulling away. The poor man looked like he was silently begging for you to stop and continue all at once. You wiped the cum off your hands on your skirt, and you felt somewhat guilty for wasting it. Your customer was still catching his breath when you hopped off the bed. You went to the bathroom, grabbing a rag and wetting it with warm water.
You didn't need to wipe yourself that much, it was really for your customer.
You made your way back to the room to see 'Koala' sitting up, seemly dazed. You knew that look, it was pretty common to see when you first started here. It was a look of disbelief. The 'I just really paid for sex with a slut' type of look. You sat besides him, rubbing the cloth in gentle motion on his tummy.
Snapping out of his daze, he looked at you. You glanced up at him, then back to your task. "You doing okay?" You asked. He leaned back so you could get a better view of his mess. "Yeah," he nods. "I was just thinking." You hum in understanding, "The post-nut clarity." His eyes go wide, as if feeling bad for making it so obvious.
You shake your head, "I get it, really. It's not a big deal. Just letting you know though, I'm not giving you back the money just cuz you regret it."
"No!" He almost shouts. "No I mean, I don't regret it. And I wouldn't make you give me back the money. It was good, you were great. It's just been a while for me."
You finish wiping, holding up the cum rag to show him. "Yeah, I can see that it's been a while." 'Koala' embarrassingly laughs, his hand reaching up to play with his ear. Suddenly, you grow curious about what he looks like. You can tell his hair is a dark color, but is it straight? Curly? Wavy? Not that it matters, he got his lay. He probably won't be back again.
"Well, we got about 15 minutes left pretty boy. Anything else you wanna do?" You question, flopping back down on the bed suggestively. He smiled under the mask, and you can tell by the way his eyes crinkle. "Actually yeah, I really wanted to eat you out." His answer leaves you a little shocked, but you recover quickly.
"Is that so? And how are you gonna do that with your mask on?" You playfully interrogate. His eyes blink a few times, then he comes to a resolution. "You have to promise not to look." He pauses. "You just can't look."
Damn, he must really be well known. "Fine," you give in. You grab a nearby pillow and hold it to your chest. You law down on the bed and open you legs. You can hear 'Koala' practically fall to his knees on the ground, his hands encasing your waist. It sucks that you have to have the pillow blocking his face. He would look so pretty with your pussy in his face.
"Let's see what you can do in 15 minutes."
a/n: hheeyy so this my first kpop fic lmao. took a while to write, I really wanted to make it realistic as possible, but that's hard. anywho, sorry about my updates being slow. I got strep throat lets gooooo. feedback is appreciated!
update: second post to this story here! update 2!: third part here
taglist: @whatamidoing89, @panda-wolf, @fatgumsbby, @nekohollowsychogoth
708 notes · View notes
kairiscorner · 8 months
Note
Okay okay, hear me out. Miguel trying to figure out your secret identity because you're the only spider person who hasn't shared their backstory and Lyla can't find anything about you besides your spidersona, so he breaks his own rule and sneaks into your dimension in disguise, searches the city for you and is ready to go home with a failed personal mission, till (thanks to his super hearing) he hears you singing in your apartment and sees your open window with all your plants and a stray happily sunning itself while you tend to them all, and he's just mesmerized on the street cause like, woah. 🌷🌷🌷
oH MY GOD–I LOVE THIS !!! bc i recently also watched rocketman, i'm making y/n sing an elton john song favorite of mine 💖
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
hold me closer, tiny dancer. – miguel o'hara x reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
as night fell in the city, cicadas and crickets hummed their songs in the bright, moonlit evening of tonight in the humble boulevard of the dimension you belonged to. you didn't live in the most well-off or best town in the city, but it was your home; your home that nobody else in HQ ever knew was even yours. you were a complete enigma to the rest of the multiverse, and you preferred to stay that way. it didn't bother you one bit that you only had your little rooftop garden to tend to and greet when you get home from a long mission. you made yourself a warm cup of tea and sat down by your little wooden table by your rooftop, your outdoor plants hung up by the macrame hangers you made for them all. you looked off at the yellow and white studded distance beyond your balcony and smiled slightly to yourself, enjoying the silence and solace of being alone, in your own home, in your own space. though little did you know... someone was searching for you, trying to figure out just who you were; it was no adoring fan of yours from this dimension, it was instead a coworker, your colleague back in earth-928: miguel o'hara.
"this is hypo and critical, mig." lyla warned miguel as he lifted up his gray jacket's hoodie up on his head as he scanned his surroundings. "would you kindly shut up and let me do my job?" he snapped at the AI assistant as she raised an eyebrow at him, shrugging. "one, i do all the scanning and difficult processing stuff for you in the nanoseconds, stand back and let me do my job. two, not my fault my servers don't have anything on them. just turn back now, miguel, it isn't worth finding out who they are—these are your principles, by the way." she reminded miguel as he sighed and covered the watch she was being projected from with his hand as he hid behind an apartment building. the surroundings were pretty clear, nobody else roamed these streets at night, except for a few night crawling critters that sung about in the night. though these creatures weren't the only singers of the night, for as miguel was about to head off in the opposite direction to begin searching for the person behind the spider person mask he had been so used to seeing—yearning to see the lovely face hidden underneath it—he had heard the opening notes of a classic melody being played on a piano. the melody sounded as though it were recorded, its sound was being carried out from a couple of speakers that didn't sound modern in the slightest.
"what is that?" miguel asked aloud to nobody in particular. "they're the opening notes to the elton john song, 'tiny dancer'. it's cute as hell." lyla said with a grin as miguel stepped out of the shadow of the big building and followed the sounds. the song reverberating from the speakers was fainter, but a new symphonic sound rang in his ears. a voice? a voice rang out in the depths of the otherwise silent, unbothered evening in this quiet, ordinary boulevard in your quiet, ordinary dimension—for the most part. as the song progressed, miguel had finally pulled himself out of the shadows and seen the lit up home you had. he took in the full view of the balcony of yours that was adorned with macrame hangers, potted plants of all different sizes and colors, and... you, there, looking off into the distance, smiling as that sonorous voice came from you.
"pretty-eyed... pirate smile... you'll marry a music man." you sang along as the song went on, taking a spray bottle from near the railing and humming the rest of the song's lyrics, spraying water on the plants' leaves all carefully and gently murmuring to the plants how big and healthy they've gotten. you smiled and continued singing the song as it got closer and closer to your favorite part of the song. "looking on... she sings the songs... the words she knows, the tune she hums..." you continued as you set the spray bottle down finally and sat down on your chair by the balcony, with miguel peering his head up ever so slightly to catch a better glimpse of you. "i know that voice..." he muttered as he almost accidentally slipped and landed in the light emitting from your home. "but, oh, how it feels so real—lying here, with no one near; only you, and you can hear me. when i say softly... slowly..." you sang in a gentle voice as you got up slowly and put one foot over the other, as if in a ballerina position and raised your arms slightly, not caring who would see... not knowing miguel was watching you perform for yourself in full view. "hold me closer, tiny dancer... count the headlights on the highway..." you sang as you twirled yourself around gracefully, with the skills of a poised ballet dancer. your gentle, elegant movements made miguel pause and open his mouth slightly ajar in amazement. "they're... wow." he whispered to himself as you put your arms down and sighed, re-entering your home and sliding the windows closed, disappearing into your home for the night. miguel had known you were a sophisticated fighter that always carried honor in their hearts and poise in their movements—but he never witnessed you perform, let alone so freely, happily and... alive.
"y'done?" lyla asked miguel, snapping him out of his trance. "a-ah, right, um... okay. we... can go home now." "something tells me you don't wanna just yet." lyla pointed out as miguel darted his eyes back up to your unit and quickly tore his gaze away with a sigh as he put in the coordinates back to HQ, opening a portal and stepping foot in it, casting one last glance back up at your humble little apartment, the apartment where the tiny dancer who has his heart performed for the very first evening when his life felt like it really started now. "...it doesn't matter what i want. i got what i came here for, let's go." he whispered as he moved his gaze away from your home and wordlessly bid your dimension a goodbye, or rather... a see-you soon.
tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @ophanimgold @fictarian @yuridopted0 @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok
545 notes · View notes
mactavishsgfandwife · 2 months
Note
saw that ur reqs r open, and i love all ur work sooo here i am lol
what would the tf141 boys be like w a reader who’s into horror? (i was thinking reader is like rlly sweet but loves playing horror video games or smth, but u can interpret it however u want!)
i can js imagine johnny freaking out when he sees reader playing like,,silent hill or smth. or resident evil 7 (can u tell im a horror game nerd lol)
but yeah! js a silly little idea i had, feel free not to write it if u don’t want to! have a good day, ily!
TF141 Watching a Horror Movie With You 🎃
hi omg this is such a cute concept!! thank you so much for the support, you have no idea how much i appreciate it! i have so many ideas for them with someone who loves horror movies so that’s what this post is about (i hope that’s ok :( ) but i’ll try to write about horror games another time because that’s such a cute concept! i just have lots of ideas for this one rn so i thought i’d do it first female reader, fluff, not proofread <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Simon "Ghost" Riley thinks it’s cute that you love horror movies. He spends half his life in a real-life horror, he’s seen things that you could never imagine. Teasingly calls you a ‘psycho’ for just sitting there happily, cuddled up to him as you watch something absolutely terrifying go down on the screen.
Simon is a pain in the ass to watch certain horror movies with, because if guns or fighting are involved then he will make sure to point out to you exactly what the directors got wrong.
"He’s holding it wrong… if I even… Price’d never let me hear t’end of it," he mumbles, not talking to anyone in particular.
When you cuddle on the sofa, if you’re laying face down on his chest, he loves to keep one hand on your ass. Sometimes, if something does make him jump, he’ll squeeze it out of instinct.
People don’t usually expect it but you’re very good with scary stuff, you rarely ever get spooked out. But sometimes you do, especially if you’re tired and it’s late.
Once, after you’d watched a film, you went to get ready for bed and Simon went ‘to eat something’. Even when you were all changed and ready for bed, he still hadn’t returned, and so - twiddling your fingers together for reassurance - you peeked out into the darkened hallway.
Only for a 6'4" soldier in a skull mask, wielding a cup of tea, to jump out at you from behind.
You screamed, stumbling back in a state of panicked confusion, about to cry out for Simon when you came to your senses and realised that the masked intruder was Simon.
He stood there, laughing his ass off, until he realised that you were obviously very on edge and a little bit teary eyed.
"C’mere…" he sighed, placing down his tea to take you into his arms, "i’m sorry, baby girl, please don’t cry…" Your heart was racing and you were debating whether or not to slap him, but you knew he didn’t mean to upset you. And you were happy so long as he made up for it.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Soap Mactavish claims that he’s not scared of anything. Nooo, no way, he’s not scared. He’s so not scared that he’s looking away and squeezing your hand.
Poor guy is so easily jumpscared, it makes you giggle.
"You sure this i’nt going t’be too scary for you, bonnie?" he coos, placing an arm around your shoulder as he half-watches the film that has plunged into a strange silence. He’s definitely trying (and failing) to be subtle as he flexed his muscular arms a little bit, in an attempt to show off.
"Oh yeah, don’t worry," you nod sweetly, smiling up at him.
"I’m just saying, angel, if you need to bury your head into my chest, or if you can’t look, then that’s okay, you just go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I’m a soldier, I could easily take on any- Shit! Fucking hell!" he jumps, squealing and then clearing his throat in a poor attempt to disguise it.
"You sure this isn’t going to be too scary for you, bonnie baby..?" you tease, kissing his cheek.
"Lay off it," he pouts, blushing a little bit as he nuzzles his face into your hair.
Alsoooo Johnny is a fiend for feeling you up when you’re watching a film together. He sees it as a perfect opportunity to get to know his pretty lass a little bit better.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick’s favourite part of movie night is the food. He loves takeaway (he’s definitely a Nando’s lover) but his absolute favourite food is your home cooking. When he was asked his favourite food when he was younger, he was always the one kid who would say "whatever my mum makes!" and now he’s an adult it’s just the same, but "whatever my girlfriend makes!" Whenever he realises you’re going to watch a film, whether you invited him or not, he will call out to you from the other room to "HOLD ON!" as he grabs snacks and drinks for the two of you.
Gaz isn’t too easily creeped out, but it happens. He’ll never admit that it’s because he was scared, but you’ve definitely noticed him ‘accidentally’ leaving the hallway light on. If it wasn’t an ‘accident’, then he obviously did it so that you wouldn’t feel scared in the night. He probably realises that you can see right through him, but you always say you believe him, just to make him feel better.
Kyle’s favourite horror movie series is Paranormal Activity, because it’s a so-bad-it’s-good kind of thing. He loves sitting in bed, eating popcorn, with you in his lap, laughing til you cry at all his jokes about how horrendously made the films are. Once, he was taking the piss out of how bad the film you were watching was and then immediately got jumpscared. He even let out a weird noise in shock - he didn’t hear the end of it for weeks.
Even if he’s not cuddling you as close as possible, Gaz loves to rouch you, usually by holding you with one arm as you rest your head on his shoulder. He is a serial thigh-squeezer.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
John Price is a total dad, and that extends to when you can convince him to watch one of your favourite films with you. He wants to watch the movie, it’s not his fault if he falls asleep 15 minutes in every single time.
He lets you lay on his broad chest, that’s warm and rises and fall under your head, while he rests his hands behind his head and closes his eyes. He’s prone to snoring, too - in past, you’ve had to rewind the film because you missed part of it while you were trying to get him to wake up and shut up. The only sureproof way to wake him up is to try and move off of him - he’ll open one eye and grumble at you, as he pulls you right back into him.
"You’re not even watching the film, you’re asleep…" you whine, looking up at him.
"’M watching, love. Shhh," he mumbles, eyes still closed as he softly pats your hair.
"Are not," you pout.
"Shhh. ‘M trying to watch this," he hushes you, eyes closed and totally ready to go back to sleep. You’re almost annoyed at him but he makes that very hard, breathing softly through that moustache as he presses you against him, like you’re a teddy or a weighted blanket.
In terms of the films himself, Price isn’t easily scared (partly helped by the fact that he spends half of the time asleep). The first time that you two watched something scary together, he was almost expecting you to be terrified, but he was pleasantly surprised when you weren’t. He thinks it’s funny how you can sit in his lap perfectly happy and watch something that would have any ‘sensible’ (as he puts it) girl screaming.
He either gets very irritated by the main characters making terrible decisions and getting themselves into trouble, or finds it hilarious. He also loves to rub your feet while you watch the movie, literal princess treatment.
Tumblr media
i kind of want to watch a horror movie nowwww
all pictures are from the game or from pinterest as far as i’m aware
i hope this was ok for you!!! i know it’s not exactly what you wanted but maybe we can just consider it part 1 of the horror obsessed reader saga >:)
masterlist
314 notes · View notes
lyman-garfiel · 6 months
Text
Weird rant but like, it kinda makes me sad a large portion of scarab art is just that of his farmworld disguise that started to melt into me just obessing over why i love scarab's design so much
Tumblr media Tumblr media
i dunno, i just always found it funny scarab litterally pulled the white-twinkifacation beam onto himself and the fandom WENT FOR IT. Like i have nothing against people just having fun and humanizing him [human scarab with nerd glasses truithers i owe you all a smooch/p] but when i see just this [albiet cannon] design over and over when the whole point and reasoning for his deign existing was to be a disguise and not resemble him at all,,,,,, his human form is in like 3 scenes total yet i swear i see more art of THIS than his actual design sometimes.. and it SADDENS me cuz like HIS REAL DESIGN IS THE COOLEST SHIT EVER??
Tumblr media Tumblr media
His most-used form being so regal and sharp, the monochromatic red design just RAIDIATES menace and power, he's pretty much completley humanoid if you ignore the fact the suit IS his body and his arm/leg spikes, his design really gives off something that isn't human trying to replicate humanity. AND DUE TO THIS HE IS FULL OF BODY HORROR POTENTAL TOO LIKE???!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I just love how his regal and humanoid form just LEAVES the second he is at his lowest point in the show, [the universe he searched for and jumped through so many fucking hoops to locate and destroy becomming cannon and thus his efforts became null and void.] his body language just DROPS the whole "proper but deadly" facade and my man just goes full BUG MODE, gaining another set of arms and crawling around, he pretty much gives up on hiding his real face too which is ANOTHER DESIGN ELEMENT I REALLY ENJOY
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
He only really takes it off in acts of desparation [threatining fionna into getting his weapon back] or an intimidation tatic [jumpscaring Gary after bro threw baked goods at him-] and the second he no longer has the upper hand he slams it back on, i just think its a very interesting element i have anylized to HELL and back because i have combed through all of his screen time on multiple occasions.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
During his absolute moment of glory, [in the process of repo-ing fionnaworld his mask is off, bro is grinning he is elated he is exited as hell] and his FIRST reaction to the shock of his erasure not working is to slam his mask on before anything else. Now i have my headcanons on what this means but i just kinda wanted to ramble on about why his body language/design has been keeping me in a CHOKEHOLD latley
Tumblr media
anyways before i spend like......an hour writing this i'm gonna post it i just NEEDED to get his design elements into a post before i fucking explode =)
304 notes · View notes
onskepa · 10 months
Note
Can I get a Mother Mo'at x female human reader.
Where Mo'at found the reader when she was a baby. Then Mo'at I dunno does some sort of ritual for the reader to be able to breath on Pandora without using a mask.
I think it would be kinda wholesome to see Mo'at treating the reader as if she were her own child 🥺
Neytiri probably being the overprotective big sister over the reader, especially since she is human.
Imagine Jake's reaction to seeing the reader on Pandora and breathing without a mask or an avatar as if it's normal-
I just imagine Neytiri dragging the reader with her while she has to teach Jake and the reader laughs at Jake when he does something wrong.
I MOTHERFUCKING LOVE YOU!! YES!! HERE IT IS!! YOU'RE THE BEST!!
Stxeli series
-------------------
A daughter for a daughter
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Mo'at wasn't herself after the death of her first born daughter. Sylwanin. Her daughter was truly a wonderful na'vi, one with so much potential. Yet the sky people took that away from her.
After her death, mo'at forbade all na'vi from getting anywhere near hell's gate or any sky demon for that matter. For months she wouldn't let neytiri do anything outside of the territory, in fear she lose her only other child too.
Eytukan tried his best to coax and ease his mate's inner wounds. Yet he himself suffers from the lose of his child. He may be leader, but he too, is a father. To see his sweet child be born and grow, hopes and wonder's of what Sylwanin was to become. Yet they took her from that.
Tumblr media
Mo'at needed to clear her head one day. And left to go beyond the clan's territory to search for herbs and other materials for medicine. It was to clear her head, but nothing was working. She prays to Eywa every day and night, she doesn't question her great mother's reasons, but desire this inner wound to ease.
Suddenly, a woodsprites appeared, not just one, nor two, not even three!! but many slowly make their way towards mo'at. She gasps and carefully looks and listen. Trying to understand the message Eywa is bestowing on her. The seeds began to make a line, a trail, they wanted her to follow, so she did.
As she moves, she began to notice the seeds were leading her to hell's gate. Daring not to question, she slowly moves forward, making sure the sky demons dont notice her. Luckly, night approaches so the ecosystem disguised her well. Still following the woodsprites, they led her to a window of a tall building. She peaked inside and saw a baby who was crying its little heart out. She was amazed by how tiny the baby was. Must be only a few days old.
She looked around in the room, and didnt see any other sky demon attending to the baby. She may not not much of sky demons customs but she is sure they dont leave their little ones unattended.
The baby cried for long minutes, it tugged mo'at's heart. How is it that no demon has come to attend the baby? Where is the mother? Mo'at desperately wanted to help the baby. Its cried wailed deep into her soul. She now understands what Eywa is telling her. If no one will take care of the baby. Then she will.
With a half baked plan, she looked around to search of the only human she can ever trust, Dr. Grace Augustine. Much to Grace's surprise and delight, she approached mo'at, and much to her great surprise, mo'at wished to enter hell's gate. Grace didnt know any better, only that she missed speaking to the Tsahik.
Using Grace's trust, mo'at made sure to mesmerize every single route of hell's gate and pin point every possible exist. When suddenly her ears picked up the familiar cries of the baby. Grace didnt look, so Mo'at quickly left to find the baby. Basically busting through the door, she entered the tiny room where the baby layed. Carefully picking it up, she sees under the blanket. It was a baby girl. The cutest baby girl she ever seen. Her little cries died down, and snuggled against mo'at. Her mother instincts kicked in, the sudden feeling to protect the baby. She softly kissed her tiny head and made sure to wrap the baby securely against her chest. Quietly, and by miracle of Eywa, she managed to leave hell's gate undiscovered and heads back to her clan.
Tumblr media
By following morning, every na'vi knew of Mo'at bringing home a human child. Many dare not to voice their concerns, as they would be silenced by Eytukan. But even he is confused. For last night, while looking for her, he saw her run as fast as she could, not to their shared hammock, but to the tree of souls. He went after her to see if she was alright but to his shocked, he saw her place the a human baby down by the base of the roots. There, mo'at saw him, and asked to join her in prayer. A prayer to save the child. As she didnt think her plan through. Their native air was toxic for fully grown humans, she didnt think how it would affect the baby.
So that is what they did. Praying to Eywa in hopes to bless the baby girl to breathe their air. By sunrise, the baby was giggled and looked at the na'vi in wonder.
Mo'at and Eytukan explained to the clan that the child is a gift from Eywa. For she was born to be with them. Human body but na'vi at heart.
Neytiri was a bit perplexed by the news. But had come to her own conclusion, the humans took away a na'vi daughter, so its only fair that the na'vi takes away a human daughter.
They given her the blessed name Stxeli. And she fitted right in with the others, neytiri loved her new sister. Became rather protective of her. And much to her surprise, Tsu'tey had come to accept the new born. Would be there for the little one whenever he can, and would often play with her. Mo'at felt her inner soul be at peace, and healed from the dark past.
Tumblr media
At every given chance, mo'at, neytiri and Eytukan would tell their young one of their older sister, Sylwanin, so that her memories be never forgotten.
True that Stxeli cant do everything a na'vi can, but she makes up for it in her skills at weaving and music. She did not need to hunt, or tame a banshee, she is fine how she is. Never felt like an outsider.
However, when Jake Sully arrived to the clan, he was shocked to see a human amongst the na'vi, a human who can breathe their air. Stxeli didnt trust jake not one bit. And would keep her distance from him. But when it came to neytiri training him, she and tsu'tey would watch him fail and laugh together.
But much like neytiri, jake warmed up to her, and would give him tips on how to better his skills. Demonstrate her own skills flawlessly.
Jake would report of to Grace of the Omaticaya human, and how its strange she is accepted. Grace knew who he was talking about. Despite all these years, she still turned a blind eye of what happened that night. And would go on like nothing happened. So long as she get still interact with the tribe, the incident would forever be with her under her very last breathe.
Tumblr media
Stxeli = gift
Tumblr media
Thank you so much for this request! I loved writing it!
889 notes · View notes
clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 months
Note
Arvin and kieran meeting a kind peacharunt hybrid reader who can make mochi but prefers making a antidote to the mind control mochi.
Arven
No matter how far apart you are from Pecharunt, you could always sense whenever he's up to trouble in Kitakami.
You're basically his foil, serving up mochi that are antidotes for the mind-controlling mochi he throws at people.
You get that he only wanted to be loved (and maaaay have an inferiority complex bc your owners favored you more for being half-human and capable of conversation), but he never listens to reason...he hasn't for years.
So you lived peacefully among humans, keeping up a good disguise and being friendly to locals and tourists alike--and ofc keep an eye on Pecharunt's dormant state no matter what.
You then meet Arven, Florian/Juliana, Nemona, Penny, and Kieran....and that's the one time you turn your back before all hell breaks loose.
It got out of control quick, and you rush to cure everyone, starting with Arven as you coaxed him into eating your mochi dish.
Which was hard since he couldn't stay still, and you could see how embarrassed he was.
But he seemed to understand that you were trying to help him out.
After he's back to normal, he initially thinks you're the one responsible for the outbreak...until you point to the other Pecharunt floating in the sky, still taking control over Penny.
You thought he would have been so confused seeing two of the same 'mon.
But considering he encountered two Miraidons/Koraidons, it doesn't surprise him at all.
Although he wonders why you're more human than the other Pecharunt...
Even after all of that, he's still gonna be super cautious about eating mochi (unless he sees you prepare it, put it on the plate, and serve it with his own two eyes).
Kieran
He's read stories about Pecharunt growing up, but is still convinced that it's a bad guy who ordered the Loyal Three to mercilessly attack Ogerpon and her trainer.
At the festival of masks, you frequently performed shows about the tale, and Kieran frowns whenever you're on stage, depicted as a hero.
Even in town, you're always dressed in that same garb that reminds him of that Pokémon.
He suspects that it's not a costume and you're really Pecharunt incarnate, wearing a disguise that fools everyone but him.
But he was too shy to ever confront you about it--or at least until Mochi Mayhem's events take place, and he believes you were making everyone act weird.
He freaks the HELL out when you approach him and Florian/Juliana after they battled his grandparents, cowering and begging you not to make him "like the others".
Luckily, you calmed him down by curing them right there and then, which makes him realize you're not the Pecharunt from those stories.
He feels terrible for all the years he's spent judging you, but you forgive him, knowing there's a greater issue at stake.
You admire how much he has grown over the years: from being such a sweet and shy kid to a strong trainer who helped you calm down the locals while his friend captured the other Pecharunt.
You decided it was for the best that he went with them, and you remained in Kitakami to watch over Kieran and Carmine.
You also helped him realize the story of Pecharunt, the Loyal Three, and Ogerpon wasn't so black and white, opening his eyes to a new perspective and that struggle with love and acceptance he himself could relate to.
109 notes · View notes
lookbluesoup · 2 years
Text
Thinking about G'raha and Emet at the climax of Shadowbringers, mmm there’s too many words, let’s see...
Emet freaks out the way he does and reverts back into mask-up genocidal self-righteous rage-monster mode because he thinks you’re going to die. Become a sin eater consumed by Light. You were his friend in the world unsundered, even though you don’t remember him now, and your soul is just going to be obliterated, there will be no saving it. He accepts this as inevitable, he’s too hurt to hope for anything else. You’re already gone in his mind. He’s going to do what he has to do, to end this broken world and save the rest of his people, even though it means losing you. The angst of that gets me every time.
And then there’s G'raha. Who was also your friend in disguise, working alongside you to save the world. Just like Emet, G'raha's a dear companion from another life who’s true face you weren’t able to see, who’s name they would not tell you, but who loves you still and hopes you might save the world.
The moment Emet-Selch gives in to grief and decides you can’t be saved is the same moment Graha commits to sacrificing himself to save you.
Emet prevents G'raha from doing that. And takes him captive. And the days that follow where the rest of your friends are desperately trying to preserve your life, G'raha does not know if you are ok.
But he does not give up.
He knows you are doomed, just as much as Emet does. But unlike Emet, Graha does not give up.
He fights for you, for the world, for a future, against Emet in the Tempest with no certainty that you are even still alive, and no reason to believe anyone will rescue him, and no second chance for any of it if you are gone.
But you come for him. You come for him bleeding Light and barely able to stand but you also did not give up. Both of you are defiant in the face of Emet’s despair. Graha is bloody and beaten from days of abuse, far from his tower, and still finds it in himself to summon aid for you when you make your final stand against Emet for the fate of a dying world.
And ultimately you triumph over the Light, you defeat Emet, you give hope back to the entire broken world and most importantly... you are not going to die. And neither is Graha.
And I just... cannot imagine how hard that realization is going to hit G'raha. After days in basically hell, not knowing, not giving in, you showed up like the hero he always believed you to be but even more, and you brought him home again, and you’re alive.
When the adrenaline and exhaustion fades... It must hit hard enough to be its own wound. He must break down sobbing. You cannot feel so much relief and stay on your feet. All that he hoped against hope for came to pass, and he loves you and you’re still alive.
1K notes · View notes
miyaur · 8 months
Note
mmmm i can only think of hsr men dancing with me in masquerade ball a.u
twirling and dancing about and then w take a break and sip some wine ARGHH
╭╯ ❝ 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞? ❞ ✦
Tumblr media Tumblr media
┊𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱﹕ an anonymous man asks you for your hand at a masquerade ball that your friend hosted. originally you never liked going to parties, hell why even attend a ball when you can take a rest at home?! but, you know, 1 ball isn't that bad.
╰ ꒱﹒ 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥'𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐞﹕ no warnings, just masquerade ball shenanigans :3
一 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬﹕ i've been pondering, and pondering, and pondering when to write on this account istg.. anyways im back and school was great?!?! also YES NEW LAYOUT WOOO
一 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧﹕ luocha, welt, blade x gn!reader (seperate)
Tumblr media
luocha 一
he really knows his way around the dance floor, whether or not it's his first time, in his free time definitely learned how to dance! so graceful with it too. amazing hand placement 100%
he knows very well on where to step, on where to place his hands on you, makes sure you're comfortable with what he's doing as well!
genuinely loves to twirl you around when you dance with him, like he finds it so amazingly satisfying for some reason, so expect quite the smug smile whenever he does twirl you
as for his outfit, the classic all white suit decorated with gold on his jacket and tie. and doesn't wanna be so anonymous, but probably lets his hair in a low ponytail and a mask that only covers his green eyes. the mask is white and like gold on the very edge of the mask, ykwim?? like the brims of the mask are with yellow, gold, all that good stuff
will make sure you both have very often breaks, he knows how tiring dancing can get, whether your forehead is covered with your mask or not, by the end of the night, it'll be kissed <3
and for the matter that you both stop for wine, he controls his alcohol very well! considering he is a doctor, he knows the amount he can handle.
probably the type of guy to hug you from behind every chance he gets.
originally tells you, you should go with your friend who got an invite that mentions they could bring a plus one, just for him to end up going and steal you away to show everyone what a true star you are, and how bright you can really be.
a blonde-haired man, his hair was in a low ponytail, walked up to you. disguised with a beautiful mask, approaches you from behind, and whispers into your ear, "may i have this dance?"
Tumblr media
welt 一
same as luocha, he knows how to dance, and to add onto that, he dances very well. probably the one who invited you to the ball with him, helped you decide on what you'd wear since he wanted, or atleast hinted he wanted to match with you
matching masks as well>>> it's a need to him!!
literal blushing mess as soon as he sees you wear what he suggested for you to wear to the ball, he's genuinely a blushing mess, like his legs lowkey tremble
i like to hc that he writes a ton too
so like he'd write about the moment you stepped out of your room
he's giddy about the idea
literally in love with you all over again
would definitely have you in his arms, as in his arms around your waist, his head on your shoulder hugging you from behind, while it's just the two of you out in the balcony of the place where the ball was held ahh <3
literally just wants to show you off to everyone.. nicely. like he'll sway you all around the dance floor and everyone else attending the ball is watching how graceful you both are, and he's just smirking, all smug n shit behind his mask.
easily calms himself down, and knows the way to truly embrace you and your beauty as you glide on the dance floor, would probably carry you by the end of the dance, and kiss you on the nose, and lastly hug you close.
himeko took pictures of that exact moment, nonstop teasing from her as well.
Tumblr media
blade 一
lowkey shy, but confident at the same time, acts like he doesn't know who you are, but at the same time, he knows what colors fit you, and colors you prefer on your clothing
if you took his suggestion on what to where to the ball when you asked him, will lowkey blush too一 really subtle, but since his mask would only cover his eyes, you could see a subtle blush on his face. you might not see it, but its there.
of course, kafka probably helped hum pick stuff out for his outfit, even though he knows what he clearly would like on his suit. probably waa flashier than expected because kafka is so cool
recognizes you instantly, but like i said, he'll act like he doesn't know, just asking a random person onto the dance floor, very well aware that he's dancing with you.
so i headcannon him to be a man with spectacular taste in fashion, knows exactly what fits a person, probably only the closest of his friends or loved ones knows this.
fast forward to the next day; you are talking to your close friend, blade, about going to a ginarmous masquerade ball last night, he'd just nod and be an active listener to your story, amazing listener to all your stories actually.
while you ramble about the man you danced with at the ball, saying how well he swayed along the smooth, and shiny tiles of the ground, and probably was the best dancer in the room. to your shock, he mentions he attended the ball as well as his business genius friend; Kafka's assistant, to follow along with her.
kind of just is flushed while you find out he was the one you danced with. will slightly hesitate if you ask him to teach you to dance like him, but will dance with you either way.
10/10, would dance with again fr
Tumblr media
一 took me 1 month to write again, lmao
200 notes · View notes
bruciemilf · 2 months
Note
Hii!
I was wondering if you had any n.sfw type of headcanons for Harvey vs Two Face when they're being intimate? 🤭
Because of the Jason Dent AU fic, part of me thinks TwoFace might be a pillow princess for Matches 😅
I mean, I try to assume couples are versatile but was also curious if you felt either would be more or less likely to enjoy something over the other. Or if they'd be pretty much the same in their wants/desires. Hope this makes sense!
Really like your blog. Your post with Batfam Twitter about Harvey breaking out of Arkham to take Bruce out on dates is part of what got me into them 😍🥹
HOOOO. NSFW ahead!!! Minors don’t interact, please and thank you!!
I’m so goddam thirsty for this man. No, — it’s unhealthy. I’m like a feral Resident Evil nightmare that escaped confinement and I’m in need of emergency euthanasia.
In my heart I can’t imagine Harvey or TF bottoming. But it also really depends on!! I could maybe see Harvey, whimpering like a goddam mess, Bruce bounces on his dick like a fucking horny rabbit, and TF snarling, “Fuckin’ wimp.” (He loves it)
One thing’s for sure thought; These mfs are So Nasty.
Two-Face is big on degradation; Bruce’s pleasure is extremely important for him, and while he prioritizes his baby doll getting the best treatment possible, you can catch him shoving Batman on his knees anytime, anywhere.
“C’mon, sweet boy. Use that smart ass mouth for something useful. “
And Bruce can’t ever say no 😔 He has them memorized down to the veins
Also you bet Harvey’s hung as hell. 10 inches. Bruce has higher chances of ending up in the ER after fucking than fighting.
DADDY KINK DADDY KINK DADDY KINK DADDY KINK DADDY KINK DADDY KINK DADDY-
I just know for a fact Two-Face always has Bruce on his lap when he’s playing poker.
Either when Bruce is disguised, or just normal. Besides, Brucie Wayne is basically Harvey’s glorified blow up doll. So what if he’s around the room while talking essential business? So what if he’s witness to it?
Black Mask makes that comment exactly once and Harvey paints his brass knuckles red <333 “Tsk. Fucker got blood on my watch.”
God help you if Bruce wears red lipstick around this bastard. They’ll make out so messily. Everywhere. At any time. Cause Harvey’s not stopping until Bruce begs him to let him breathe.
SCAR WORSHIP.
MUTUAL
SCAR WORSHIP
Harvey will call Bruce princes while fucking him doggy style, his belt tightly snaked around his neck. He makes the prettiest noises, punched out moans and tiny little gasps. “Ah, heh— you came? Again? You’re making a mess, sweetheart.”
I genuinely do think rough sex is their go to, but like. Loving rough sex? Nevertheless, when one or both have an off day, when Gotham’s nightshade hand punches just a little too hard, they find sanctuary in each other’s softness.
Sometimes Bruce gets fucked with Harvey between his legs, spread like a last meal on his WE office, his smaller hands sinking in his man’s broad shoulders. And he’ll say nothing except his name, like a mantra.
“Harvey. I love you.”
“I know.”
“Bastard,” Bruce laughs rarely, and when he does, it feels like a prize, “Say it back. Both of you.”
“Tch. Brat. We love you. Happy?”
“Always.”
108 notes · View notes
yandere-writer-momo · 10 months
Text
I just had this on my mind (and also no one requests Hector Doyle anymore). So enjoy a goofy head canon of being in a relationship with Doyle.
Yandere Baki Head Canons
Hector Doyle Edition
Tumblr media
Hector Doyle
He likes to steal things at the mall. Lush, Sephora, hell… Claire’s isn’t even safe from this man’s sticky fingers
He enjoys wearing disguises for free samples. You always ask him why but he always says, “Because f*ck capitalism.” Can’t argue with that point
Doyle loves picking out outfits for you using credit cards from rich men’s wallets he stole. He’ll spoil you in his own way. He adores you and likes to always make sure you look and feel your best
Doyle likes to unwind after a long day with you with a wine (he stole it) and some face masks (he stole those too)
Doyle would paint your fingers and toes for you and likes to match his nails with yours. He also likes to color coordinate outfits when you’re out and about
Doyle doesn’t let you know about his job as an assassin (or the fact that he’s an ex con). He likes you to be oblivious of his dark past. He wants a normal relationship and life with you (well as normal as someone like him can have)
He is a little odd but he’s not a bad boyfriend at all. He’s very secure in his masculinity and doesn’t mind if you want to do his hair or pluck his brows. He likes to be pampered (self care is important)
Doyle gets so mad if you’re not taking care of yourself. He will swaddle you in blankets like a little baby and make you sleep enough. He will then put under eye masks on you and perform a 10 step skincare routine on your face (he will even dermaplane your face for you)
Doyle really likes bubble tea dates. He loves bubble tea (he’s especially fond of Taro bubble tea because it’s purple)
Doyle is big on hand holding and he gets fussy if you don’t hold his hand. If you won’t hold his hand, he will stick his hand in your pocket to touch you. Doyle is extremely touchy (touch starved)
243 notes · View notes