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bonbonly · 2 days ago

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𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: run, run, run, through the shadows you stray, but the wolf is behind you and you're only prey - mother always said to never stop in the woods in fear of the wolf, if only you listened to her for once. 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: this is a dark fic! you have been warned! do not read if you are not comfortable with dark fics or any of the following: noncon/dubcon, drugging/aphrodisiac/forced lactation, forced breeding, slapping, p in v, blood, character death, gaslighting 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.7k 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: @thef1diary & @emchante, my pookies fr because without them, would this have happened? probably not! also guys im running on 2 hours of sleep and instead of looking at my neurobiology lecture notes i wrote this instead because i couldn't stop thinking about this so if there's mistakes please forgive me!

"grab the tray, no the tray... i said the tray!" your mother hollered from the opposite side of the bakery. you poked your head around the furnace to see your mother glaring at you, her finger pointing towards the tray of bread. she had asked for you to slice them neatly so she could place them in the basket for lord perceval's maid. You were too busy perfecting the shapes of the new batch of cookies, your sense of priority amiss according to your mother. dusting your hands off, you strode over to grab the cutter, and turned your back to her. you could feel her dismissive eyes boring through the rear end of your skull. her conversation with the maid quickly died down, the sound of footsteps departing being heard from the entrance of the bakery that your late father had began 5 years ago. it was a pity that he was not around, you wouldn't have had to deal with the atrocious customers had he been at the door with his axe.

"have you not heard?" lady charlotte cooed, her hands smoothing down the outermost layer of her skirt. her eyes flickered from the velvety red texture of hers, to your beige, flour coated skirt that even your white apron could not cover. you noticed the edge of her lips curl upwards, her meaty hand coming forward to swipe the scone from you. "it's the talk of the town, lord perceval plans on leaving to England very shortly."

"i have not heard anything," you frowned, tilting your head. your mother had just walked in from cleaning the dishes outside, her hands calloused from having to use the rusty water pump by herself. you threw a glance over your shoulder at the poor woman pacing back and forth, as if forgetting something and then snapped your head back to the woman in front of you, "what is the town talking of?"

"oh my naive girl, there is a creature lurking in the woods! they say he came from spain, and finding no welcome there has come over here. they say he's a man by day, a wolf by night," lady charlotte grinned, her voice well below a whisper. your eyes widened, and just then your mother used the rolling pin to shoo away the woman,

"enough! do not bring these stories into my bakery. it's already bad enough that my daughter's not the brightest, don't give her ideas!"

"oh but i'm not! i'm just warning her. the bakery's right next to the woods after all," lady charlotte exclaimed which made your heart stop for a brief second. she was right, and it was absolutely terrifying to think about what horrors were just outside your window. your father had died when traversing the woods to find some logs for the fireplace. a similar fate could be met if your mother and you didn't leave. your mother rolled her eyes,

"if my mother can live alone in that cottage of hers, then surely there is no such wolf trying to feast on us. thank you for your time, lady charlotte, but i suggest you run back home before your father searches for you." and upon hearing your mother's words, the arrogant woman huffed out loud in annoyance, grabbed the ends of her skirt and walked out with her head held high. your eyes fixed onto the crumbs of the scone from earlier in the palm of your hand, shoulders sagging as you turned to your mother,

"she didn't pay for the scone."

"oh nevermind now, i'm sure there'll be more people to buy your scones later." your mother kissed your forehead, and you couldn't help but feel her linger a moment longer than necessary before hurrying to grab the batch of bread from the beehive oven. a few neighbors popped by to grab some cake and cookies, one of them even gave extra money for your scones, which left you gleaming as you took the coins graciously. you walked over to carefully place the coins in the small jar just below a small table when your mother took off her apron and informed you that she had to run a small errand. the marketplace was open earlier than usual today and considering how you both lived in the outskirts of the village, it would take her time to walk to and from. she kissed your forehead once more, telling you to keep a watchful eye on the bread in the oven and to be respectful to the customers, no matter how awful they treated you. the front door slammed as she left, leaving you in the eerie silence of the small bakery.

clink. clink. clink.

the sound of each coin echoed around you, a satisfying jingle when you shook the jar. you had been saving money to help buy a house near the center of town. your mother wouldn't have to walk so far, and if your grandmother did the world a blessing and passed away, you could easily sell her cottage in the woods. some fool would definitely buy it and with the extra money, you could buy some more baking supplies for your mother, perhaps hire another worker so you could frolic around with your friends like you used to. wherever they were... married, bearing children for their husbands. you shuddered at the thought, hating that your childhood came to an abrupt end with your father's death. you were toiling away to help your mother for the bare necessities, while they all had settled down and found their comfortable future. the door to the bakery swung open, and you scrambled to your feet,

"mother, how fast did you-" you paused, eyes focusing on a handsome, tall man instead of a frail woman. you brought a hand to your parted lips, "oh, i'm so sorry. i thought you were my mother."

"está bien, i was wondering if i could have something to eat." his accent was smooth, like butter flowing into a bowl. nodding, you walked over to the oven to pull out the cooked bread and placed it on the table to begin slicing. he was intently staring at your movements, brows occasionally furrowing when he saw you circle around in your spot to find something. from the corner of your eye, you were taking in his appearance. well-built, broad shoulders. big, brown eyes that would leave the moon envying its radiance, and hair that silk merchants would spend years foraging for. he was a brilliant being, royal in his appearance which left you questioning why he was begging for food like a common peasant. you shot him a shy smile as you walked over to where he stood to grab the cutter, twirling it in your fingers. a common habit you did that would make your mother lose her mind. perhaps it was his towering presence, but the small knife slipped across your finger, gifting you with a small cut that made you hiss as it clattered onto the floor.

"ugh," you grumbled, it was just a small cut. nothing too serious, but it was enough pain to have tears seeping from the corners. the man in front of you pouted a bit, holding your hand gently to wrap his lips around your thumb. you were enchanted at the feeling of his warm mouth, and was that his tongue flicking against your cut? you couldn't tell properly because you were getting flustered at his eyes gazing at you. he looked like a wolf that had just found a baby dear, and just when he took a step forward to you, the bakery door opened again to reveal your mother with a basketful of eggs and vanilla extract and most vividly, a scowl on her face.

"(y/n), can i ask what's going on here?" she questioned, stopping just in front of the two of you. you gulped, trying to pluck your thumb out of the man's mouth but he instead chose to bite down, causing you to cry out as your blood pooled onto his tongue. you wriggled away from his little bubble of space, staring at your mother with a dumbfounded expression,

"he came in asking for anything to eat and i was going to cut the bread, but then ended up cutting my f-" you had begun only for your mother to instantly berate you,

"i've told you so many times! so many times to never twirl that around! you need to be careful, you never listen to me!" your mother scoffed, setting the ingredients down. you were opening your mouth to argue when the man besides you then licked his lip, eyes bigger than usual. you frowned, taking in his appearance once more to see if there was something abnormal about him. your mother grabbed a new knife to begin cutting, which allowed you some time to ease your curiosity.

"are you new here? what's your name?"

"i just moved here a few days ago. my name is carlos-"

"your family name?"

"not important... at least to you," he snapped, raising an eyebrow at your desire to know more about him. you coughed into your elbow, awkwardly shuffling to your mother to help with shelving away the ingredients. as you slipped to the back of the house which was your pantry, you could catch a glimpse of the woods from your window. the snow fell, the trees waited for rebirth in spring and your eyes cast down to the red footprints that curved around the bakery. you frowned, returning to your mother who was busy giving carlos a basketful of bread and scones. he was taking a bite of your raspberry scone when you overheard your mother bragging about your baking skills,

"she might be a bit dull at times, forgive her, her father died when she was young, but her scones are the best! a true baker at heart, that she is." your mother smiled, bringing her arm over your shoulder to pull you in for a side-hug. you shrugged your shoulders, feeling as though the praise was a bit forced from her end. you averted your eyes to the floor when you noticed the red snow on his boots. your jaw dropped for a second,

"mother, his..." when your eyes traveled back up to his face, the hardened glare that you faced stunned you into silence and you bowed your head once more, getting a good look at the red snow that peppered his feet. something felt wrong inside you, as if this strange... creature - because in what world would a normal human have red snow under their boots - was a warning for you to quit baking and move to the center of town.

"well, we hope you have a nice day..." your mother shook you from your thoughts with her loud voice, and then she turned to face you, "don't forgot we need to save some food for your grandmother. you need to deliver it for tonight."

"t-tonight?" you squeaked out, shoulders sagging, "but it'll be dark! it's the woods! you heard what lady charlotte said!"

"oh, enough with the superstitions. you'll be fine! now, do me a favor and go outside to grab some more wood," she grabbed your coat from the table, the shining red being the only luxury you could ever afford and patted your back, signaling for you to leave the bakery. carlos had followed you out, lurking behind you. his eyes cast down to the cloak that veiled your body pretty well from him, a sight that he wasn't very fond of. he saw your tits pressed upwards due to how tight your corset was, your blood tasted sweet to him, he missed the tang of iron on his tongue and with hooded eyes, he saw you scampering over to the pile of wooden logs just on the side of the bakery. he closed his eyes, inhaling your scent from afar and imprinting it into his memory. he would need it for later and with a cruel smirk, he took a bite of your scone and walked off.

"remember, the only place you go to tonight is your grandmother's house. don't stop, walk fast but do not run," your mother instructed you as she adjusted your coat. it was around 9:00 at night, which was the time that your grandmother had asked for you to come. you were a bit late since you overslept your nap, so while you were whining "do i really have to go?" "can't we do this tomorrow morning?" your mother shut you up with a kiss to your cheek, and shoved the basket into your hands. with a raised finger she narrowed her eyes at you, "listen to me, ok? i know you've always hated listening to me, but you need to do it tonight. it's dangerous out in the woods-"

"didn't you say there's nothing in the woods to worry about?" you snapped, scowling at her. she rolled her eyes, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation,

"Oh, for pete's sake! just be careful in the woods! remember to keep walking, never run and never stop. just keep walking." with a final tug of your hood, she sent you off on your little journey, a prayer on her lips as she watched you walk out for the night. the entrance to the woods was enough for you to debate about running back home. the intertwined twigs, the roots reaching out to grab your ankles and the utter darkness that flooded the area. the moon was your only companion tonight, and it was sure doing a terrible job because you could barely see anything. you held the basket close to your chest and stepped forward, carefully making sure not to make any sound. the last thing you needed was for lady charlotte's words to be true; that creature should never find you... ever.

your eyes darted nervously around, the slightest brush of wind making your skin crawl. in the darkness, your eyes were alert to see anything suspicious, anything out of the ordinary that would put your life at risk and despite the calm air that surrounded you, you felt as if you were being watched. you pulled the cloak closer to your body, bringing the hood down to mask your eyes. standing still for too long would attract someone, or something in this case, and thanks to the vivid color that you adorned around your body, you weren't a target to miss that easily. you clutched onto your basket, hovering your foot over the ground before taking another step and then the snapping of a twig, made you freeze in your spot. the sound thundered through the quiet forest, and you whimpered to yourself in fear that you might've awakened the fearful beast that lady charlotte had mentioned earlier.

"hermosa, what are you wandering around for?" an accented voice called out to you. you spun around, dropping the basket in the process as your breathing became more labored, terror forcing you to stand still. the man from earlier in the day was leaning against a tree, arms crossed as his muscles strained against the shirt that he was donning. he raised an eyebrow at your silence, and snapped his fingers, "answer me. your mother did say you were a bit dull."

"m-my... grandmother," you responded, pointing off to the distance, "s-she lives here in the w-woods, 'm just going to deliver her a basket of food." your feet crushed on a scone and you shrieked in horror, trying to salvage what was left of the food that had been dropped to the ground in your state of shock. with the goods stashed back into your basket, he stalked over to where you stood and reached down into your basket to pull out a raspberry scone, his lips enveloping around the crust of the treat. he groaned at the taste,

"your mother was right about you, mi vida, you're a really good baker," he licks his lips, bringing his finger to swipe the jam into his mouth, sucking the delicacy off. his eyes flicker from his finger to your anxious expression, "i wish i could repay you for your treats, they taste so good, hermosa."

"w-well, I... I should leave now," you whispered, taking a step back and much to your horror, he followed you. you saw his hand dig through his pockets, pulling out a vial that he shook between his index finger and thumb, it was red and cloudy.

"at least having something to drink on your trip, no?" he kept pushing forwards, the vial kissing your bottom lip, "the apothecary gave it to me once as a surprise. it's nice from what i heard..." but as you stumbled over your feet to get away from him, you noticed his eyebrows furrowing, lips turning into a frown.

keep walking. don't run. just walk.

you trudged forward, turning your back to him and speeding up your pace but you could hear his footsteps chasing after you. slow, hard thumps. each step shook the ground beneath you, and before you knew it he clasped his hand around your mouth. you screamed, wriggling under his grasps as his hand squeezed your jaw, desperate to get your mouth to open. your hands flew to release yourself from his grip, but his hand just wouldn't relent. he bit into the cork of the vial, spitting it out behind him and shoving the tip of the vial down your throat to let the liquid drain. it burned, your eyesight blurred with the tears that flowed down your cheeks. he shoved you onto the ground, yanking the cloak off your trembling frame. when you hear the jingling of an unbuckling belt, you're about to scream once more when he cussed out loud and took off running. you watched him try to avoid the moonlight that now shifted to where he ran off, and you swore you saw big meaty paws tread through the ground. was it... was it the werewolf lady charlotte mentioned? was he the beast you were fearing this whole time? you felt the liquid's foreign taste still cling to your tongue, and you hesitantly got up to see the dent on the forest ground.

and there it was. the footprint the size of 7 scones, and you wailed at the sight of blood staining the print. you fled, grabbing the basket and heading to an unknown direction. with the way you were running, the contents of your basket flew out, leaving a little trail unbeknownst to you. you had to get to your grandmother's house. forget about what your mother said about walking, no you had to run! every corner that you turned made your heart beat louder, and soon your basket was abandoned. you wanted to go home, you wanted to leave the woods. this was all a mistake! why did you stop? why didn't you keep walking? at the sound of a piercing howl that cut through the silent air of the night, you fainted onto a small flower bed, unable to control the fear that consumed you.

a mistake that you later learned would cost you greatly.

when your eyes fluttered open a few hours later, you gazed up at the night sky, the moon was out to greet you as if to apologize for what a horrid night you were having. you whimpered at the way your body felt heavy, a strange warmth that creeped down your body, leaving you aching in a very strange way. you propped yourself up on your elbows, gazing down to see that your breasts were slightly enlarged, struggling at the edge of the corset. you frowned, feeling a strange sensation near your covered areolas - a wisp of dampness - and as much as you wanted to investigate your body's strange response to the environment, you figured undressing in the forest - especially with that monster around - would only make your situation much worse. with great effort, you stood up and almost fell onto the tree besides the flower bed, and grabbing the empty basket you struggled to walk towards the pathway that you saw. you just didn't understand why you felt so tired, your mind a foggy mess. you rubbed your eyes, yawning and blaming the lateness of the night for your behavior and kept going forward, remembering your mother's words. never run, never stop but always walk.

and then you saw it. the damned cottage. the reason behind all your sufferings. you scowled at the sight of it. you prayed the day of your grandmother's death so that you could sell this stupid place and never trek through the forest ever again. you hauled yourself up the front steps, still sore and incredibly sweaty - as you naively assumed - from the journey. you let your body rest on the front door for a small moment, and let out a small whine when the wooden surface brush against your clothed nipples. you felt delirious, yearning for something that you couldn't understand. your chest felt like it was on fire, and you barely had enough energy to even open the door. you screamed in frustration, banging the basket onto the door.

"grandmother! grandmother!" you bellowed, mouth hung open as you were panting, trying to understand what was wrong with you.

"come in!" a raspy voice called out to you, it was accented, but your poor mother was right all along: (y/n) (l/n) was dull headed, and with a mushy brain, there was no way she could make out her grandmother's voice clearly. you pushed the door open weakly, leaning against it once you had closed it firmly. you narrowed your eyes, the darkness of the night doing very little to help your vision. the moonlight shone from the window on the side, illuminating just the end of your grandmother's bed. you sighed out loud, plopping the basket at her feet,

"oh, grandmother!" you whined, "please leave this cottage! i had to go through so much. mother gave me so many treats, and... and i was being chased... i lost them all... I... oh!"

you threw your head back, tears falling from your eyes as your entire body felt like it was about to explode. you bit the inside of your cheek, just about ready to rip your corset and the shirt underneath off you. your hands clenched into fists and you slammed them onto the bed, right onto the feet of your grandmother. that was large. you frowned, glancing up to see the silhouette of her face.

"why grandmother! what large feet you have! did you break them, are they swollen?" you asked, genuine concern laced in your voice. you missed the way your grandmother shifted her position in the bed, trying to get friction somewhere that wasn't necessarily appropriate for an old lady such as herself. you walked around the bed, to the darker side where the moon wouldn't shine and saw the hands that crept out of the blankets.

"the better to travel to see you, my dear," your grandmother responded, and when she brought her hand up to brush the backside of it against your cheek, you frowned at the size of her hand.

"why grandmother! what large hands you have! when did they get so big? let me guess, arthritis?" you pressed further, and when your grandmother smiled, it felt as if she was barring her teeth, her canines sharper and pointier.

"the better to bake scones with you, my dear!" she responded, her voice dropping down to a low growl as her hand traveled down to rest right above your breasts, which had you whimpering, arching into the touch. you glanced back down to see the smile more prominent than ever,

"why grandmother! what big teeth you have!" you squeaked out, and with a harsh squeeze of your tits that made you squeal in oversensitivity, the being in front of you lets the covers of the bed fall to the ground to reveal themselves as none other than carlos. the very being you were running from.

"the better to eat you, mi zorra!" he roared, lunging at you. your screams were overshadowed by the way the bed snapped against the wall as he pounced onto you. he grabbed onto your ankle, tugging but you twist your body and kick him firmly in his face, ignoring the way your shoe cuts his lip. he hissed in pain, muttering curses in his language before grabbing onto your crawling frame, dragging your tits against the floor which left you sobbing, aching for some relief. hurling you onto the bed, he sat behind you and let each of his legs wrap around yours to hold you in place. on the right, where the moon shone through the window, you noticed his leg grow hairier, his hand - no paw - with jagged claws ripping the corset off you, along with the rest of your clothes. you're screaming, crying at how you want to go home and what happened to your grandmother. where even was she?

her rotting corpse outside, tossed into the pond, would never be found ever again.

the warmth of his paw along with the coolness of his hand made you let out a strangled moan as he began to grope your tits. your head thrown back onto the shoulder of his fur-covered side, as his thumb flicked over your sore, puffy nipples. you glanced down finally to see that this entire time you weren't sweating, you were leaking! milk oozing out of your nipples, and every time he'd squeeze harshly you'd moan out loud as he watched you spray the bed with your natural milk.

"Oh, mierda, this is working out better than I imagined," he grunted into your ear, and then he brought his hand down on your tits, slapping you with force. you sobbed, needing him to grab a handful of your swollen bosom, you can't stand this anymore. the fire is everywhere in your body, and with each blow, he laughed at the way your tits jiggled under his touch, the way your hips bucked. his paw, in the meantime, came towards your unattended tit and his claw circled your weeping nipple, and with a little bit of added pressure, you're silently screaming at the pleasure you're feeling. it's too much for you, all too much for you to handle! he flipped you over to your back, standing on the side of his bed as he fully returned to his human form at the darkness and he grabbed hold of your jaw, "kicking me, screaming into my ears, thrashing around... every other prey was so much easier, but you? what a fucking pain."

he spat at your face, letting the saliva rest on your cheek as he slapped your tits firmly. you sobbed out loud, begging him to end your suffering, to let you go. his dark chuckles did little to satisfy your pleas, and instead he harshly gropes your tits, sticking his tongue out to catch the stream of milk that spurt out of you. he licked his lips, head thrown backwards, "es tan perfecto, tastes so good."

he raised an eyebrow, looking down at your writhing body and he let his thumb rub into a drop of you milk before rolling your nipple around, "imagine being able to have this milk to myself... all the time. it's expensive, princesa, having to buy the formula secretly. right when everyone wants to fucking kill me."

your mind can't comprehend his words, too far gone in pleasure and still yearning for more. your tits still feel full, they still feel heavy and with parted lips, you moaned about what was going on, what even happened. how did you even end up here? carlos smirked, leaning his head forward to wrap his mouth around your areolas, beginning to suck. that was all that needed for your questions to simmer down for the moment, the room only flooded with your incoherent moans and whines. he sucked and squeezed, biting down on your nipple and letting his teeth sink into the fat of your tit, enough to draw a bit of blood. his tongue lapped at it, murmuring against your skin how your blood tasted so good at the bakery, that he just knew he needed to have you.

"and i will, because i always get what i want," he scoffed, running a hand through his hair. he grabbed you by the back of your neck, tossing you onto the floor where the moonlight decorated it with fervor. you could hear the faint sounds of undressing and when you opened your eyes, you saw him transform into the creature that horrified you. the wolf got down to his knees, and your eyes drifted down to his cock that was visibly throbbing, leaking pre-cum just for you. your head fell back onto the floor, your mind already shutting down because nothing seemed to make sense. this had to be a horrible dream, there was no other explanation. he yanked your body closer to him, spreading your legs as his massive tongue dragged over your cunt. you bucked your hips into the air, demanding for more and he continued, rolling your clit around before letting his tongue invade your precious hole. his fangs grazed against the inside of your thigh, and every time it did so, the fear flood into you and in short bursts of 5 seconds, you had enough consciousness to push his head away. weak attempts as they were, but he could clearly hear your cries.

"n-no, please... stop i can't take it anymore!" you hoarsely whined by the time he brought you to your 4th orgasm just on his tongue. his tongue exists your swollen cunt, trailing up to your tits and circling around your hardened peaks that continued to leak. he brought his massive head down to suck once more and you're holding your breath, praying he doesn't bite your tits off. and for the first time since he transformed into a wolf, his deep guttural voice finally spoke up,

"the finest milk to feed the pups i'll put in your belly," his words rang in your ear, and you tried to sit up but his paw pushed you back down, his fangs on display as his muzzle pressed against your neck, a silent warning for you to try and refuse his desire to breed you. he cock slid against your folds, almost teasing you and seeing if you'll deny him. if you'll shove him away. but considering you're too fucked out at the moment to do anything, you watch helplessly as his paws hold onto your hips and he enters you in one swift thrust, burying himself as far your body can allow him. you arch your back at the stretch, the air being knocked out of your lungs. you let out a choked scream, as you felt every thick, pulsing inch of his cock being shoved into you, spreading you open and filling you entirely. your slick cunt clenched around the intrusion, struggling to accommodate its girth. he snarled in feral pleasure, relishing the feel of your silken gummy walls gripping him like a vice. he started to move, his hips pumping as he fucked into you with deep, pounding strokes. the force of his thrusts rocked your entire body, your heavy, leaking tits bouncing and swaying with each impact. lewd sounds filled the air - the slap of flesh on flesh, the squelch of your dripping cunt being plowed, and the wolf's grunts as he wanted to ruin you every other man.

"oh, hermosa, imagine your belly all round and swollen, carrying my pups. your tits leaking to feed them. you'd be like this for the rest of your life, stuffed with my cum and so beautiful, no?" he growled, before laughing at the tears streaming down your face at his words. the reality of the situation was dawning on you. yet, the pleasure was the only thing you could focus on, and you let out another strangled moan which he took as confirmation. his claws dug into the soft flesh of your rear, leaving red crescent marks as he gripped you tighter, pounding into you harder.

"w-where was i going? what... what, oh! what was i coming here for?" you weakly asked through moans. everything was a blur, you couldn't remember how you got here, you couldn't even remember your life before this very moment. everything only revolved around his cock hammering into you at an ungodly pace.

"mi vida, you were on your way to meet me!" he chuckled, before grunting at the way your pussy clenched around him.

"b-but the b-basket... the..."

"they were all for me! you were going to treat me first before letting me breed you, hermosa! such a good girl for me," he grinned, fangs shining under the moonlight. thick strands of your arousal splattered with each unforgiving pump of his hips, coating his fur with your juices. your pussy clenched and fluttered around his pistoning cock, milking it greedily as if trying to coax out its creamy load. you were screaming, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continued to drill his member further into you, and as his thrusts became more erratic, he came shortly after with a loud growl making sure to continue his thrusts so that not even one drop of his cum seeped out of you. every drop counted to him. you whimpered when he pulled out, only to roll you onto your stomach, ass positioned into the air.

"we are far from done, i will stuff you with my cum again and again and again until i see your belly growing with my pups," he slapped your ass as emphasis, rejoicing in your whimpers.

when your worrying mother woke up the next morning eagerly waiting for your arrival, she opened the bakery door only to be met with disappointment once again. she knew you were foolish enough to have gotten yourself killed in the woods, but there had to still be a chance that you were alive and well. she sighed, letting her eyes fall onto the snow and her foot touched something unexpected. she scowled, eyes snapping downwards to see a very particular thing.

a raspberry scone spread apart, the red jam oozing out.

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clrasecretdiary · 3 days ago

Text

You're just a little bit too much like me | Spencer Reid x Reader

Enemies to lovers | angsty fluff

Word count: 1755

Warnings: Normal criminal minds type of violence, mention of guns and gunshots, age gap (Reader is about 25, and Spencer is in his late 30s)

Content: Spencer being an asshole because he doesn't know how to deal with his feelings and how you remind him of his older self, past Spencer trauma (implied but not directly mentioned), self-doubt, Post prison! Spence

It was a difficult situation, only your second week on the job and the first time you had to make that kind of decision. You went alone to a location where the suspect might have been at, all of your teammates were further away so, as reckless as you now recognize it was, you went there alone, instead of waiting like Spencer and Emily asked you too. You didn't want to lose your chance, there were more than 3 days on the field at stake here, you did not want to disappoint your colleagues and just stand there waiting like a dumb newbie, so you made the decision.

“I'm going in” You warn your teammates in the radio, not waiting for a response before storming into the unsubs house.

You bust the door open with your feet, storming into the house. As you look inside, you find the unsub taking his gun from a drawer. Thinking you had an advantage as his back was facing you, you rush to try and immobilize him, but somehow he managed to turn around and shoot you.

You growled in pain as your body dropped to the ground, just before you passed out completely you heard the sound of rushed footsteps. You heard two voices, one you recognized as Emily's going after the unsub, and the other as Reid's talking to you.

“Please don’t go to sleep, we need you awake” His voice was soothing, far different from the tone he always used with you ever since you joined the team this year, but he sounded so worried, and you really did try to stay awake for him, for your team, to show that you were okay and that they needed to go after what's important, the unsub, but you couldn't. The last thing you heard as your vision got black was him yelling at his radio, “Medical, we need medical right now”. And then, everything went black.

You are now back at your first day on the job. Still at your house, confused as to what outfit you should use, so anxious about being so young at the top team of profilers, even thought it was a last year internship you hoped to impress them enough that they would hire you officially for the team, so your anxiety was through the roof wondering whether you really deserved to be there (goddamn that impostor syndrome). But most of your worries went away when you met the team, you would never imagine that the best profilers in the FBI and maybe in the world would be such good, kind and even funny people. They all welcomed you, seeming excited to be able to work with you, except from one of them.

Doctor Spencer Reid, you had read about him and his genius mind, you even went to a couple of his lectures on forensic psychology, honestly? You were a fan, and you were so excited to meet and work with someone you looked up to. Unfortunately, he didn't seem as eager to meet his new coworker. He just stood there in the back, staring at you while you introduced yourself to the team, the most he did was mutter a “morning” when you sat next to him in the briefing room.

Never meet your heroes, they say.

Now, you're back at… Where are you again?

Your eyes begin to open, you're completely adrift until you finally begin to recognize the awful white light, and the coldness of the room. You're at the hospital, no idea as to how much time has passed.

Jennifer comes into your line of vision, holding your hand, “Hey, how are you feeling?” her voice is calm, as she watches you sit up in the hospital bed.

“I'm fine, I think... I didn't even realize what happened back then. Oh shit, did you guys catch him?” You abruptly try to sit up, remembering how you couldn't get the unsub when you got shot, guilt washing over you as you started to piece together what happened

“Hey slow down, Emily went after him and made the arrest, the victim was rescued. He shot you, but it just grazed you. You did lose a lot of blood, that's why you passed out, but the doctors say you'll be fine to leave today. Don't worry.” She says as the doctor comes in to do his final checking.

You just agree with your head, lost in your own thoughts. You knew it wasn't your fault that you got shot, but still you felt so stupid. The hurt of not being able to catch the unsub might've been even bigger than the one from your wound, all of them had been in even more difficult situations than you and made it out without so much as a scratch, and you couldn't even catch an unsub that was alone?

After a few hours, you were back on the jet, finally heading home. The guilty was still bothering you, and you even apologized for the mistake. Hotch just asked you to be more careful and follow instructions next time, but overall, the team seemed genuinely happy you were fine. Except, of course, for Spencer, who ever since you got in the jet was staring daggers at you.

Later, the jet finally landed, and you were eager to get home. You quickly went to the office to get a few of your things, Unfortunately, you and Spencer were now all alone in an uncomfortable silence waiting for the elevator.

“That was reckless” Spencer mutters under his breath

“I'm sorry, what?” You turn in your heels to face him, had you heard that right? Is that the first thing he's going to tell you after you just got shot?

“What you did on the case, was reckless and naive. You should've followed our instructions, you can't just do what you feel like doing” he's looking in your eye now, his voice coming out angry but with a hint of… worry?

“I'm sorry ok? I tried to do something, I just did not want to just stay there waiting while he could be doing god knows what inside that house” Your voice comes out more shaky than you wanted it to, the weight of the guilt pressing into your chest

“Still, it was reckless and stupid, you should never just storm into, alone, a place where an unsub might be, you never know what he might do to you, what might be waiting inside.” His gaze is cold, almost as if he's not actually here talking to you, but somewhere inside his head and his memories.

“Trust me, I know that. I regret my decision, but I wasn't doing what I felt like, I tried my best, Reid.” You turn to look directly in his eye. Yes you did something wrong, but you wouldn't let him out of all people talk like that to you “I might be the youngest on the team, the one with less experience but trust me… I'm not dumb, I earned my place here.” Your voice shaky when you said that last sentence, the insecurity you felt showing through your words.

Something in his gaze shifted after that, his expression became softer, almost sympathetic. “Listen, I'm not saying you're not qualified, I'm sorry if it came off like that, just be careful… That could have ended a lot worse, trust me I know”

“ I will” The air between you two less intimidating now but still heavy with tension, you two step in the elevator, the whole way to the garage an awkward silence until you two finally reach the bullpen's garage.

Even thought you felt like now maybe he didn't absolutely want you gone from the team, you were still curious as to why he is so cold to you

“Sorry, I need to ask… Why do you hate me?” You turn to him, after finally gathering the courage to ask this question

“What do you mean, don't hate you”

“Yes you do, I mean you're not obligated to like me but since I joined, you didn't even meet me yet and just gave this cold look”

His eyebrows furrowed as he processed your words, clearly taken aback by your directness. He sighed, a hint of regret in his eyes, and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "It's not about you personally," he finally admitted, his voice softer than before.

“What is it about, then?”

He takes a deep breath before starting to talk “You're only 3 years older than me when I joined this team, I know what it does you, to your mind. I guess I just saw way too much of me, of who I used to be, in you, and it terrified me to be honest” His cold facade disappeared completely now, in its place a soft and genuine expression.

“So you were, and I'm sorry for the words, an asshole to me because you were worried?” You almost can't wrap your head around it, all this time you felt like one of your biggest references in the BAU hated you, but instead he was caring for you.

“Yes, I see how it comes out as “asshole” behavior, but my brain just went full shutdown when i saw you” His face turns slightly red when he notices what he just said – Freudian slip or just a bad choice of words? He doesn't's know for sure – His hand goes to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck “I mean… for the resemblance, of how I acted when I had just joined, of course”

You give him a small smile, and just like that your side that has been a fan and read all of this man's articles comes back to life “Of course. Thank you for worrying but maybe instead of hating me you could… I don't know, if it's not too much of a bother of course, help me? I value your worries Doc, maybe you could help me not make the same mistakes you did”

He nodded, a hint of relief washing over his features. "I'd be happy to help," he said, a genuine smile finally breaking through. "I might not have all the answers, but I can definitely share what I've learned along the way."

“I'm happy to hear that, thanks, Doc. Reid” You wave at him as you begin walking over to your car.

“Hey, just call me Spencer” He smiles warmly at you

“See you tomorrow Spencer”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x bestfriend!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader angst #criminal minds angst

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celestialgalaxyglow · 18 hours ago

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Batfam and Danny, part 4

Later that night.

Bruce: Everyone, we're almost ready for patrol, the only thing still pending is Danny's route.

Dick: He can go with me.

Jason: Umm, no he's my sidekick.

Tim: I don't care, he's going with me.

Duke: You three are too chaotic, he's coming with me.

Cass: No, he's with me

Steph: No, he should be with me.

Dick: Well I'm the oldest, so he's with me.

Jason: No, he's with me, he's my son.

Danny: I'll like to go with Damian.

Everyone: What!?

Danny: He's cool.

Tim: I'm 10 times cooler than him!

Danny: Whatever helps you sleep at night, Tim.

Tim: I- you really are Jason's kid...

Bruce: Damian?

Damian: I'm ok with it.

Bruce: Then it's decided, Danny will be with Damian until I can give him is own route, keep in mind this will require moving some of you around, and no I will not take any requests, you get what you get. Now go!

Everyone leave the batcave and head to their respective routes. Danny flew behind Damian as he jumped from building to building.

Damian: You picked me so I could teach you swordsmanship didn't you?

Danny: Yup!

Damian: Very well, we can finish our route and the our lesson can commence.

Danny: You got it boss!

Two hours later, Danny and Damian, finished their patrol and sat on a rooftop.

Danny: Are nights normally this slow?

Damian: No, tonight's rather quite, unfortunately.

The two continue to look at the city.

Damian: Danny what is your impression of me?

Danny: What?

Damian: What do you think of me in the short time we've known each other?

Danny: Well before arriving at the manor, Jason, gave me a rundown of everyone.

Damian: Oh...

Danny: No, he spoke highly of everyone, especially you.

Damian: He did?

Danny: Yes, you're the youngest Robin there's ever been, but you don't let that stop you. You're always training, learning new fighting techniques, you're a great fighter, and very compassionate, even if you try to pretend you're not.

Damian: ...

Danny: And I saw that today. You're a great person Damian.

Damian: ...In the League of Assassins my grandfather taught me that emotions were a sign of weakness. So when my mother left me with Bruce I was shocked on how freely everyone expressed their emotions. I was jealous of how close the others were to Bruce. Something which I saw as my birthright as his biological son, to the extent that I refused to acknowledge my siblings as my siblings for over a year, simply calling them by their last names. Yes, now I see them as family, and I'm tying to show emotion more freely, but it's still hard sometimes. You're the second person to join the family since I arrived, when Duke joined I was still in my "I hate you all" phase so I didn't make what I would now consider a good first impression. So when Jason introduced you to us I was focused on making sure you felt welcomed as part of our family, guess I'm a little nervous on how I did in that endeavor.

Danny: Well you did great.

Damian (smiled): Thank you. They sat in silence for a few seconds. Danny I'm going to ask you something, but you're not allowed to tell anyone.

Danny: Sure, what is it?

Damian: Can we hug?

Danny (happy): Sure.

They hug.

Damian (standing up): Alright that's enough of that, like promised I shall teach you proper swordsmanship nephew. We will start with you learning the parts of a sword, followed by the proper stance you must take, then you may start to wield a sword.

Danny (standing up and saluted Damian): Yes sir!

(Master Post)

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forchosangwoo · 4 hours ago

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— relationship w cho sangwoo ☆ sfw + nsfw headcannons

warnings : mdni, nsfw notes : first time writing headcannons on this account! hope yall like it and that no one thinks its really bad TT feel free to leave feedback <3 this is written with a female reader in mind but all genders are welcome!!

SFW . . . !

he'd love to take you to expensive or nice restaurants on his day offs.

he'd give you lots of gifts rather than words of affection since he has trouble expressing his feelings to anyone.

he'd would cuddle you after he finishes his work. he'd kiss your forehead and run his hands through his hair as you drift to sleep.

if you were cooking something for dinner, he'd come and help you.

he'd love to hold your hand or waist in public, making sure everyone knows you're his.

when someone else starts flirting with you, he'd get super jealous. he'd give them a glare and pull you closer to himself.

if he's away from home, he'd send you "good morning" and "good night" texts to you everyday.

he'd be the bigger spoon when cuddling in bed.

he'd have a picture of you in his wallet and on his phone wallpaper. he'd smile every time he sees it.

he trusts you a lot and would slowly start opening up to you about his problems but would still be careful to not burden you.

he would love to listen to your yapping.

he'd always let you pick a movie to watch together and he'd end up watching you instead of the movie.

he'd ask you questions about your interests just so he could hear you talk more. he finds it cute.

when you compliment him, he smile to himself and defend himself humbly. however, eventually he would give in and start teasing you back.

he'd love to shower with you together and help wash your hair.

NSFW . . . !

he'd give you LOTS of praise but mostly "good girl".

he definitely prefers being dom but would try out being sub if you wanted him to since he loves you.

he'd start soft and gentle but then start becoming rougher and rougher until you begin to cry out.

he'd love hearing you being vocal and reacting to his touch.

he'd make sure not to overstimulate you and be careful to not cause you any pain.

he'd collapse on top of you as he cums onto your stomach and kisses your neck.

he'd prefer to receive oral since he loves playing with your hair as you pleasure him, although of course he also loves to eat you out and pleasure you too.

he'd give the BEST after care. every time he'd make sure to clean you and everything up and shower you with love. he'd whisper sweet and affectionate words to you before falling asleep while holding each other close.

Thank you so much for reading! More coming soon . . ?

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nottivagos · 22 hours ago

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HELLOOO!! Welcome Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Thursday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

Rockstar!Daniel Ricciardo who gets a little jealous at a rumour that his lovely Popstar!Reader is cheating on him, then alleviates the stress with... an amp?!

an: NESSA BARRETT. this is all your fault. going into this fic, i thought "hey, let me listen to nessa barrett for a bit, pornstar is a pretty good song!" THEN I FOUND S.L.U.T.?! im sorry but it just SCREAMED this idea.

Daniel was sick and tired of this bullshit. He knew he'd taken a risk by dating a popstar, but he was able to overcome the knowledge that sleazy gossip magazines would be like vultures on him all the time.

Eyes glued to his phone, the grip tightening as he read each headline with growing irritation. You'd been allegedly sleeping with a collaborator featured on your latest album, blurry pictures of you two together outside a nightclub ‘disclosed’ and plastered on the front pages.

He shoved his phone into his pocket with an annoyed grunt, ignoring the buzzing notifications from his manager with gritted teeth. Trying to clear his head, he held his guitar in a death grip, attempting to strum— or at least make some noise to distract him from the social media crisis happening.

On the other hand, there was you, basking in the morning of a new found freedom after a hard slog to produce your own music for the past 5 months. You hadn't had a morning to laze about for a while, and you knew that Danny would be busy trying to compose something, so you made your way to his little home studio.

Soft footsteps entered the room, signalling Danny to snap his head up, brown eyes staring like daggers at you. Tossing his guitar back onto its stand, he strode over to you, tense and irked.

“Are you fucking someone else?” his voice was an irritated growl, jaw locking tightly into place as he looked at you with that piercing, dark hazel gaze. “Answer me,” the tone of his voice was dangerous.

“No.” Your voice calm and collected as you replied, swallowing the small, sour lump forming in your throat. “I'm not.”

“Then why the hell is your ass all over those stupid gossip mags, posing you like a cheating whore?” He words bit, each syllable striking like a sharp gash of a knife on your skin, the intensity of his anger suffocating you, silencing you.

“It's just a rumour, Daniel.” The full name flowing bitterly off your tongue twisted the knife deeper, as he gripped your neck, engulfing it with one hand. “Did that hit a nerve?” you jabbed again, “Didn't realise full naming you had such a dramatic effect.” Your poison spoke whilst smirking, as he pinned you firmly against the wall.

Despite the cocky demeanour, you were boiling inside. Adrenaline pumped through your veins in the heated moment, the bubbling heat pooling down, creating a slick heat as Danny's eyes flared with rage.

Hot, ragged breath fanned onto your face, Danny's flushed cheeks radiating anger and pent-up stress. “Do you understand the stress this is bringing me, huh?” He asked, gritting his teeth as he let go of the vice of a grip he had on your throat. “Do you?” barking angrily, lips dangerously close to your own.

“No, Danny, I don't.” a whisper escaped your glossy lips, nose nuzzling closer to his. “Are you angry at me?” the sweetness of your pretty voice drawled off your tongue, plump lips pouting, teasing the distance between you.

An annoyed grunt was your response, chapped lips crashing onto your perfectly kept ones immediately after. Moaning softly into Danny's mouth, his tongue intertwined with yours, your shared saliva mingling together.

A distinct line of saliva connected both of you together, lips pulling away for a brief moment. “You're torture,” he gruffly panted, rage simmering underneath his large, brown eyes, “pure fucking torture.”

Wrapping a firm hand around your wrist, he yanked you across his music studio with a swift tug, treading across the scattered wires and other various equipment. He gave you a firm but gentle shove forward, pushing your chest flush against the amp.

A large hand tangled in your hair, wrapping it tightly into a makeshift ponytail, whilst the other gripped your curved hip, holding you in place. An abrupt tug of your locks made a yelp escape your lips, back arching so your round ass stood high in the air.

Letting go of your hair, fingertips trailed down your spine to the hem of your dress, already riding up your curve, pushing it up to reveal your soaked panties, the cold gush of air against your slick heat causing you to gasp.

Hooking two fingers underneath your underwear, he pulled them down to your ankles. “So fucking wet for me already, huh?” his voice was dark, kneading the bare flesh with his palms.

You bit your lip, suppressing a small gasp, rubbing your thighs together for some friction. Danny, however, had other plans. One hand came in between your legs, splitting them open again.

“Danny—” you were cut off by the harsh crack on your ass, causing you to yelp and your knees to buckle.

“You want to whore around, huh?” He growled into your ear, one hand wrapping around your neck again. “Cause me all this stress,” he muttered as he slapped again, a red handprint revealing on your asscheek, ��ruin my reputation. You deserve some kind of punishment for that.”

Whining, your cunt dripped, a few overflowing juices trickling down your thighs onto the amp below. Danny responded with an unamused tut, followed by the clinking of metal dropping onto the floor and a faint zipper.

He let his slacks fall to the floor, rubbing his clothed erection against your wet hole, making your hips buckle and thighs tremble.

“Needy girl.” He drawled out the degrading comment, pulling down his boxers to let his hardened length spring free. Teasing the tip at your slick folds, you whined again, face flushed with the electricity shooting through your body from the sexual anticipation.

Calloused hands cupped your hips, grabbing them as Danny's erection thrusted deep into your cunt, stretching it open.

“So fucking tight f’me, aren't ya,” he groaned, pounding into your ass like a horny teenager, thrusts erratic and uncomposed. “Taking me so well,” he grunted breathlessly, your sweet moans filling the room as you raced your release.

“D-Danny, please—” you whined, mind fuzzy from the overwhelming pleasure, hips moving and jerking with Danny's erratic movements, as your thighs began to tremble, gripping onto the amp until your knuckles went white, “I’m gonna—”

“Then come,” he spat, chasing his own release with gritted teeth, “come all over my cock.”

In one final thrust, you let go, pussy walls fluttering and clenching around Danny's cock. You moaned loudly, eyes rolling back as back arched in pleasure, feeling your release pool out of you like a waterfall.

Danny wasn't far behind, burying his hard length inside as thick ropes of cum painted your walls white, a large, guttural groan leaving his lips.

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he pulled out of you, watching his cum overflowing out of your ass, dripping down your bare flesh. Quickly, he pulled up his trousers and boxers, revelling in the twitchy, messy state you currently were in.

Pulling out his phone from his back pocket, he flashed a photo of your leaking cunt, your combined juices trailing down your thighs with a low chuckle.

“Maybe I'll send this to one of those magazines to show them how much of a slut you are for me.”

danny is infiltrating my every thought. is this a curse, or blessing perhaps? maybe the filth is a drug. we'll never know... unless you send me your dirtiest thoughts for an edition in my notebook.. your choice though.. - notti <3

#nottivagos #f1 x reader #f1 scenarios #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 #daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fanfic #dr3 #daniel ricciardo drabble #dr3 x reader #formula 1 #formula one

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butterflys-corner · 20 hours ago

Note

Hey! I was hoping I can make a request for an angst! Zoro x Reader fic. Maybe where the reader and him have been together for over five months but unfortunately the reader isn’t getting the emotional connection she’s been wanting and Zoro only knows physical.

Then when she confront him about it after having enough, he just dismisses her and calls her a distraction, whiiich leads to them breaking up 😁

I loooove angst and you can add some nsfw details in there if you’d like

Welcome to tumblr btw!

I can definitely do that! That's such a good idea.. I don't think I've seen anything (yet!) with this theme. And thank you for the welcome :)

R͓̽e͓̽q͓̽u͓̽e͓̽s͓̽t͓̽: "Distraction" - Angsty Zoro x reader. The reader and Zoro have been together for over five months, but he hasn't been giving her quite the right type of love she needs. They argue and, from Zoro being stubborn, break up. Fem! Reader. Music inspo: Kiss With a Fist - Florence and the Machine

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ᴀʀɢᴜɪɴɢ/ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ, ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ᴜᴘ, ʜᴜʀᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ɴꜱꜰᴡ.

Zoro never thought in the years of his life that he would be here, in this impossible to leave room, in this equally impossible stalemate of a conversation. Or was it an argument? He wished he knew didn't know.

You, the one person (other than Luffy) that he could stand every single day, had been angry with him over the dumbest thing to him.

"You know, I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to try this," your grating voice nagged him on. He just wanted to nap, but no.

"You either don't respect me, or you don't actually want to be with me." That caught his attention through the sleep settling in on his bones. Don't want to be with you?

"The hell are you on about, woman?" He spoke lowly, not wanting the entire crew in their business. His three swords rested against his broad chest as they usually did, his back against the mast.

"You not showing me proper affection. Like... holding hands or kissing me. Hell, even naps together seem like an obligation to you."

This was news to him. Your relationship seemed perfectly fine like enough to him. You sat beside each other at dinner, you watched him train and exercise, you napped together, you shared his cabin, what else did you-

"Gods, Roronoa. Even a single 'I do love you. I do need you. I don't want you to leave.' would work. But you can't say that, right? You only love those damn swords!"

"Will you shut up?! Why do you have to nag me every damn day? Everything I do you have some kind of issue with."

"I wouldn't have to if I felt loved! Like I felt when you first told me about having feelings for me!"

"I do. I.." He couldn't spit out the words. Those two words held a weight so heavy even he couldn't lift it. He felt almost.. helpless.

"You can't even say you love me. I thought as much." He watched as your arms crossed over your chest, the soft features of your face now harsh and angry toward him. In another instance, he would revel in that look. But now? Now he could only stare back cold and firm.

"Then what?" Your eyes bore holes into his head, but you stood tall. Before the thoughts formed in your head to respond, a scoff left his throat.

"You gonna leave me?"

You felt your head shake in disbelief, a scoff of your own leaving your throat.

"Maybe I will. You're a fucking asshole, Zoro."

"And you're-" don't say it.

"-just a-" don't finish that sentence.

"distraction." ...damn it.

He expected you to blow up. To scream at him across the ship like times before. To storm off with the heat of a thousand suns for him to cool you off later.

But the silence you gave him sent chills down his spine. The cold eyes on him were like ice, ever stuck on the glare he gave back.

"Fuck you." Was all you gave him. A quiet, bitter two words and you walked off like nothing happened.

"...shit." The word slipped his mind to his lips, the weight of the argument growing heavier than those three words you just wanted him to say. Why couldn't he just say them?

A sigh escaped his lungs and he shook his head, opting to nap away his stress. But sleep never stuck as he'd wake up every twenty minutes.

Pale eyelids flicked open and dark eyes scanned the vast waves ahead. He knew he would have to apologize somehow. He can't leave it that way.

So that's what the stubborn swordsman sought out to do. Zoro knows you had nowhere to go but your cabin, so his feet took him there without hesitation.

You were staring up at the ceiling of your cabin, endless thoughts swirling around in your head. If Zoro was pretending to care physically, what did he really think of you?

Were you just a love sick fool with rose tinted glasses this whole time? Did you let more than half a year pass under the guise of puppy love?

Gods, you were a fool.

Why would a man like Roronoa Zoro waste his time with a woman with a goal as huge as his? To be the World's Greatest Swordsman. There wasn't room for a woman in the equation, let alone affection or romance.

Grabbing the nearest pillow, you scream into the plush thing, your frustrations being released against the cotton. After the long outburst, your chest heaved against the silent room as your heart pounded in your ears.

Knock. Knock.

"Go away, Zoro."

"No. Open the door."

You grow silent, hoping that would deter him. But boy were you wrong.

"You know I'll break this damn wood to get in there."

A grumble and squeak of your bed, then you're up and opening the cabin door.

"The fuck you want now?" You all but spit, the harsh tone meeting the deserving mosshead.

"Can I come in?" His voice was low, and you noticed the slight glint in his eye. The one that you learned was a telltale sign that he was guilty of something.

"Fine," you sigh out, stepping aside.

"I came to talk. You didn't have to walk away like that." Your eyes scanned your complicated partner as you sit down against the bed again. He shut your door lightly behind him, assuming a seat along the floor.

"Like what? Like I'm angry? I am." You cross your arms over your chest, crossing your legs against the bed.

"Like you want nothing to do with me," the murmur was thick with previously hidden emotion as your eyes fell to him.

"I don't. I'm a distraction, remember? If that's all I am to you, I don't want it."

"You aren't just-" Mosshead grumbles, the inflection in his voice obviously from keeping a level head right now. "Forget it. I'm clearly wasting my time. Goodnight, Tiny."

"Don't call me that. L/N is fine."

"L/N now? Fine. Don't come cryin' to me tomorrow."

"Excuse me?" You raise an annoyed eyebrow and lean closer to the swordsman.

"You heard me, L/N. Don't bitch to me." The muscular man stood up, beefy arms crossed over his toned chest.

"Get out. I don't need you. I.." don't say it.

"You what?" She hates me.

"Gods, I fucking hate you!" You don't mean that.

"Yeah? I hate you, too. You're a pathetic," no. "weak," no, stop. "stupid woman that nags and nags me every damn day. And you know what? That's fine. You can find someone new," No. I want you. "to nag."

"Well, guess what," You stood up from the bed, the usual anger he expected bubbling up to the surface. Though, he found no humor or playful sass back at it. Just disappointment buried in his chest.

"You, Roronoa Zoro, are incapable of loving someone. You care only for being the strongest swordsman, but guess what? You can't. Even a man like Mihawk would have a love of his own that he fought for. But you? You have nothing." Your smaller hand had pressed against his thick pectoral, pushing him back until he was flush against the cabin door. "Now, get the hell out of my cabin."

"Fine." It's not fine! "Fine." It's NOT FINE!

And after that hurtful exchange, a heavy silence filled the room. The swallow of thick saliva cuts through the tension, Zoro taking the chance to leave your cabin, and your life.

When had the tears started?

Note: I hope I did it justice! Thanks for reading! <3 Credit for Zoro layout: @btslayouts Repulsion header credit: @gaecoo Pearl border credit: @chilumitos

#zoro x reader #one piece #x reader #roronoa zoro #straw hat pirates #angst

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the-kr8tor · 3 hours ago

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Red Firefly

Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader

Word count: 11.9k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), Reader has nicknames, Noxian! Reader, historian! Reader, part 2 of ink and bedrock, CW death mention, CW food mention, TW panic attack, CW, violence. Arcane spoilers, arcane characters appearance.

Ekko Masterlist

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The wooden spoon almost cracks under your grip. Splitting sounds of wood falling into deaf ears even when your knuckles shake above the sweetened icing. Your memory betrays you, the cold of the apartment Caitlyn graciously lets you borrow seeps into your threadbare sleep clothes, frost biting into your innards, clawing around your hands and up to your throat like rose thorns.

You're back there again, home, where blood spilled on the streets is a welcome sight to behold like grass growing in between the pavement. Where cracked knuckles can be seen on every citizen, purple skin weighing down their eyes, crimson swimming in their irises. Home. Where you always belonged. Where he belonged. Until the darkened slithering roses caught up to him, crawling all over the freezing room you both called home. Or was it just his home? You were always out fighting for home because that's what they taught you since birth. Always out screaming and thriving amongst bloodied swords and gunpowder itching into your nose. But not him, he was inside his study, reading, learning. Always the better one between you two. Always the kinder one. All soft palms with bitten cuticles from a nervous tick he never shook off. Warm eyes that remind you of your mother, and a soft smile that your father never showed anyone except that one time you first took hold of a gun.

He was the best version of you. Rounded around the edges, no jagged line that bares its teeth whenever one gets too close. He's not you.

Until they stopped him. Black spindly vines wrapped around him, thorns pricking his skin, spilling the same blood running through your veins. Then suddenly, the chill stops, and his muffled screams subsides, leaving the rumbling tone of your cracked heart beating amidst the dark. It should've been you, your mind always screamed. But he was the best out there, ambitious, cunning. And that got him pulled into the thorns.

So you fought, killed, maimed, in hopes that they'll take you too. That they'll find you worthy enough to be taken into their piercing embrace that smells of roses and warm iron. And yet, it wasn't enough. Even when you stood atop bodies of both comrades and enemies. It wasn't enough. You were not good enough to see him again. Even if it was just a glimpse of those eyes, even if they're lifeless now, even if the light hasn't glistened in them. Even if it means you would be joining him in the rose scented abyss. You'd be happy enough to be wrapped in the same thorns, to meet your end just as he did.

The sound of the beeping oven brings you back to the present. The past fading away as you slowly unfurl your palm off from the wooden spoon seeing the indents it has left on your skin. You open the warm oven, its heat searing away the remnants of the memory. Smoke wafts over your face, pulling you into its warmth.

You sigh, leaving it open as you crouch down, bathing in its warmth. A reprieve from the frost that still clings to your lashes and the pads of your fingers. The double yellow light inside the oven blinks at you, like an owl watching you in the night. It yanks you back into place, reminding you of where you are.

“Piltover,” you say to yourself, voice feeling heavy from its prolonged idleness. “I'm in an apartment in Piltover. I'm here for…” your sharp breath strikes into your lungs. Fingers closing and opening around itself, fists shaking before letting go and doing the ritual all over again. “Work. Research, study, interview, write.” The smell of the freshly baked cookies wafts across your nose, steadying you in place. “Piltover, work, research, study, interview, write.” The words spill from your lips like a mantra.

“Cookies.” You close your eyes, shutting it tight before opening it again, doing the same thing with your shaking fists. “I'm making cookies.” Finally, the feeling of the ground underneath your feet feels solid. The air no longer knocks the oxygen from your lungs. It's steady. And you don't smell the roses anymore.

The past crawls back into the very far end of your mind. A persistent gnawing that you've managed to keep it in its place for years. You've come to terms that it'll always be there, like the lives you've taken. Balled up into the corner, claws bared, ready to take a pound of your own flesh. You'll survive despite the weight, you'll live in spite of it. And you'll fight, not to atone for your sins, you fight so it never happens to someone again.

—

Gold and blue confetti flutters overhead, cheers roaring all around you as you stand on the bridge of progress. It's no longer empty, its grey steel still towers over you, but this time it's accompanied by colourful streamers, and the rousing sound of a jovial band rising above the howling breeze and its occasional metallic creek.

The sides of the once empty bridge that connects Zaun and Piltover are now full of shops. No longer does it bear its dark history, no cracks left in the cement where a bullet hit, or red stained asphalt underneath your feet. It may not have the same marks that's been there for generations, the council may try to cover the devastation the bridge witnessed— but the people still know about it, they carry it on their backs, a heavy pack filled with grief. Their history will forever be etched in their blood.

Despite it all, they try to live in the moment. The owners and employees stand happily beside their spaces, all smiles with hope shining in their eyes. You notice that they both consist of people from Zaun and Piltover working together in harmony. Both sides are willing to toss aside their bigotry for a better future. The crowd awaits the grand reopening, people from both sides of the bridge mingle among each other, no longer at each other's throats. Reconciliation is prevalent, of course some people are still doubtful about the other side, but more and more of them slowly get used to the unity that's now present in the former warring cities.

Everyday you walk around you see more Zaunites walking into Piltover, and people from Piltover strolling around the shops in Zaun. Ridding oneself of prejudice is hard and takes time, but day by day, it becomes easier to conquer with some help from the very people they used to snide at. It brings you hope for the future of Piltover and Zaun.

But the very man who should be there to witness the leap into further unity isn't there to witness it. You stand on your tip toe to scan the crowd for the familiar head of white hair. Alas, you don't even see a glimpse of him. Even Scar, his right hand man you've come to know is there with his kid perched on his broad shoulder. His son notices you, whispering to his father and perhaps mentioning you, the weird lady who's always at the hideout interviewing people because their leader always has an excuse to miss your appointment with him.

Ekko always seems to fall in between your fingers, it's either he has an emergency somewhere, or he's busy with fixing up something. There's always somewhere he needs to be or something to do. You're starting to think that he's avoiding you and your questioning. Well he is, but you're determined to get his side of the story, even if it's the last thing you'll ever do.

You're not leaving Piltover with a half baked story to tell.

Scar meets with your eyes, nodding curtly at you in greeting. You nod back, smiling all friendly to him before he returns his attention towards the speech. To no one's surprise, Scar himself isn't opening up to you for an interview, you guess he's a closed book just like a certain leader of the firelights.

The place is packed with people, children wave around streamers, their eyes are wide, and grins prevalent on each of their excited faces. You can barely see the mark the war left on the bridge, there's only hope and joy here. Smiling, you match the crowd's happiness despite what transpired to you earlier. But behind those faces, you sense their heavy gazes on you, narrowed eyes roaming around your crimson clad form. Their whispers stab your ears, their sneers pushing you down. But you won't let them. They can snide all they want, you won't leave until you've achieved what you came here to accomplish.

Sevika stands to the side, right next to the podium where council member Shoola stands at the helm. The gold mask glimmers in the sun, all smiles and what you always call the ‘politician posture.’ Back straight, arms moving around for emphasis on their speech, aura oozing confidence, and a body language that screams power.

Sevika scans the crowd with her dark eyes, always looking out for danger. Shoola Might be the one at the helm, but Sevika is the one who's more daunting, exuding power without looking at her people under her nose and through golden prejudiced shades like a couple of councilors you've met. To you though, she looks uncomfortable standing above the crowd by how she's switching her weight over and over on each of her feet. And how she's been inhaling in shallow movements but subtle enough that it's almost impossible to see. You can't help but smile at the thought of her being nervous on stage.

Vi and Caitlyn stand amidst the crowd, smiling softly amongst themselves. Vi’s pink hair is unmistakable, so is her affection towards the former enforcer. Walking through the crowd as politely as you can without bumping into anyone, you make your way towards the couple. The bag filled with tins full of cookies is held to your chest to prevent it from spilling out into the audience as council member Shoola talks about the past and what she hopes for the future for both cities that are now connected together. You should be listening just in case you need it for your research, but you're too occupied with trying not to get hit by someone's elbow or accidentally smack someone's face with your bag of goodies. You'll just settle with asking councilor Shoola for a copy of their speech instead.

Vi and Caitlyn hears you before they see you. The loud clanging of your tin boxes has their attention on the source immediately, their ever alert eyes relaxes when they see your familiar face smiling at them.

“Fancy seeing you two here.”

“We live here, spark.” Caitlyn chuckles at Vi’s joke, eye patch crinkling as she smiles. “What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out there knocking on people's doors?”

“You two live right on the bridge?” You jokingly say, earning no laughter from the neutral faced couple. Your smile wavers a bit, chuckling nervously until they both crack a teasing smile. With a roll of your eyes and relief mixed in, you stand awkwardly by their side. “I’m about to go to Ekko's, but I gotta cross the bridge to get there y'know.”

“Should've come here earlier, avoid all of the pomp and circumstance.” Caitlyn flicks her eye at you, returning her attention towards the podium, where the councilor is urging Sevika to talk. But with a simple grunt and shake of her head she remains in place and the councilor has to continue her speech, fumbling a bit from the sudden derailment. You smile at Sevika, she notices you in the crowd, nodding in acknowledgement.

“I was busy with baking.” Vi’s eyes lit up from your words. “And I kind of forgot about the event.” You mutter under your breath, earning a side glance from both of them.

Vi has her arm around Cait’s shoulder, chin resting atop it as she ignores the speech. “Is Ekko still not talking to you, spark?”

“Yeah, but it's completely understandable.” You've gotten used to the nickname, some people have even adapted to calling you that too. But that doesn't mean you're starting to like the said nickname. “They don't call me patience back home for nothing.”

Violet smirks, glancing sideways at Caitlyn before nudging you with her boot. “Uh huh,” she clicks her tongue, “don't try to change your nickname now that it's taken root in everyone.”

She saw through your ruse.

Sighing, you tilt your head back with a groan. “Is it too late to yank the root out?”

Her chuckles rise above the sound of the speech, earning a few glances from other people. “Nope, spark, that's your name now.” You shake your head with a smile at her teasing. “About Ekko, I can always talk to him for you? Get him to finally take that interview so you can go home early.”

“Trying to get rid of the poor girl already, Vi?” Caitlyn answers for you, it's the exact words you were just about to let out. Minus the ‘poor girl’ part.

Vi smiles, flicking Caitlyn's ear fondly. “I didn't mean that, cupcake. I'm just saying that she might be missing home by now. People who miss her.” She meets with your eyes. “You've got people missing you back home right? It's not just your old professor waiting for you all scrunched up in her leather chair?”

“How'd you know she has an old leather chair she always sits on?”

“You're deflecting, spark.” She twists around Caitlyn to move in between the two of you, her arm weighing heavy on your shoulders and the young Kiramman’s.

“I'm in no hurry, Vi. There was one time our research took us a year and a half to finish—”

“Deflecting with a capital D.” Vi shakes you as Caitlyn listens in. “We pour our heart and soul to you and you can't even tell us if you've got someone back home?”

“She's just nosy, you don't have to tell her.” Caitlyn sighs, arms crossed over her chest as she pretends to be uninterested in your life back in Noxus.

“Please,” Vi snorts, wiggling Caitlyn in place with her other arm perched on the former enforcer's shoulder. “I *know you're just as interested in knowing, cupcake.”

Caitlyn raises a brow, eye narrowing at Vi, who's probably regretting her words. You decide to save her.

“I have no one other than my professor.” Your sudden remark has their attention fully on you. “And it's fine. I've gotten used to it, life on the road doesn't give me much time to find someone. And whenever I'm home I'm either writing or studying with my mentor.” Your chest feels heavy. You're already aware of what they're about to ask next, so you beat them to it. “As for family…” you inhale sharply just as when the trumpets and the drums play a jovial tune, signaling the end of the speech and the grand opening of the bridge.

“This is the start of progress between both cities! A hope that connects us together!” Councilor Shoola says, cutting off a large golden ribbon just behind her. The crowd roars into an applause as more confetti pops out from above, raining down on everyone.

Vi and Caitlyn took their eyes off you for only a second when they watched the ribbon cutting, but once they turned back towards you, you were already gone.

“Shouldn't have pushed her.” Caitlyn says in a sing song lilt, grinning at Vi with her hand placed on her hip.

Vi feigns an offended gasp, “you asked me to ask her!” Grabbing Cait by her waist, she embraces her.

Hearing their giggles fading behind as you walk away has you smiling softly to yourself. But the way you grip onto your bag says a different story.

—

You walk towards Zaun with your mind saying the same words you uttered this morning over and over again. The breeze flutters your lashes, there's no more smog or the grey ebbing out beneath your feet unlike what you were told by pilties before you went down to Zaun. There's more sunlight bathing the lanes, it's refreshing, especially to its citizens who can now take a deep breath without worrying.

You've been walking the same route for an entire week now. It's the same faces walking past you, the same ivy covered walls, the same purple eyes that follow you as you walk past her painted face. Sometimes you wonder if the stories you've heard about her were as accurate as they told you. Memory is a fickle thing, love and hatred tends to warp the memory of a person.

You always stop by the last drop and Vander's statue just to see the progress they're making on the renovation. Machines grate against your ears as sparks fly from the roof someone's mending together. You've learned that Vander used to run the place years ago, it's poetic you think, that even now he's overseeing the place.

As you pause by his statue for a minute, the same single blue flower left by his solid foot remains there. You've noticed that it's always fresh, never wilting beside him.

“It's a peony.” You almost jump in place at the sudden voice.

Holding onto your heaving chest, you look down at the source. “Hello?”

Her pierced ear flicks, eyes shining under the morning sun. “You're the noxian everyone's been talking about, huh?” Her various colourful accessories click against each other whenever she moves.

“Yeah,” you bend down slightly to give her your hand in greeting. “I'm Y/N.”

She shakes your hand, fingers small enough to only wrap around your two fingers. “Babette. Sorry for the scare, honey, you looked like you're about to set the thing on fire from how hard you were staring at the flower.”

“Are you the one leaving them here every day?”

“No,” she stops you from asking with a stern finger lifted up in front of her. “And I don't know either.”

You nod as the cogs in your scholarly brain turns. “You look like you've been living here all your life, can I interview you?”

“You calling me old?” Her eyes narrow at you, and you're already forming apologies in your head. She clicks her tongue, “I'm free next week if you give me a whole tin of those cookies.”

Relieved, you grab what she wanted, giving it to her without protest. Ekko just has to settle with less cookies. “Deal.”

The tin looks big in her hands. “Look for The Vyx, you can't miss it.”

“Isn't that—”

“It is.” She smiles, puffing her chest out. “Afternoon, don't be late.”

“I—I won't.”

With a wave goodbye, she walks away with a dozen or so of your sugar cookies in hand.

Scratching the back of your head, you can't say that what transpired was the weirdest thing that happened to you here. There's never a dull moment in both Piltover and the undercity.

—

The gentle breeze welcomes you back as you enter the not so secret hideout. There are less people today since most of them are checking out the new bridge and its new establishments. But a few people stayed, taking advantage of the space as children run amok, needing you to dodge them with some effort.

“Woah!” A red headed girl almost collides into your legs. “Careful!” She answers with her tongue sticking out playfully at you before running away behind the gingko tree where a large mural has countless faces painted on it. You see it in all its glory now that it's daylight.

You've come to know who's who on it, even then, there's still more people on there that you'll never come to know. Right near the middle has Ekko's likeness painted on it, together with Benzo and Vander's face. You've always wondered why he's placed right next to the people they've lost over the years. You know why Vi is there, but not him. You still haven't asked Ekko about it, and when you asked the other firelights, they just shrug at you, telling you that you should ask the man himself. You figured that they don't know the real answer either, that Ekko gives them the same reply.

With a glance at the foot of the mural, where portraits, toys, drawings, and personal things of the deceased are placed; you decide that today is the day you get to ask Ekko about it. If he even talks to you today that is. So with you taking another tin box of cookies from your bag, you place it right next to a pair of goggles with its colours fading from the environment. You stay there for a minute in silence, eyes scanning every face before closing them in respect.

You walk away, footsteps weighing heavy, air briefly smelling of roses.

—

After a week of practice with the elevator up to the tree house, you feel like you've become an expert at handling it. You tried to ask a firelight to teach you how to use a hoverboard, but even with a bribe they just laughed and refused to teach you. So you had to settle with the elevator or the stairs to go up like some land loving peasant. One day you'll ride on a hoverboard, but for now, you have the behemoth task to get Ekko to open up.

You knock with the signature rhythm you always do. One short knock followed by three sharp knocks consecutively, it's a surefire way to tell him that it's you without yelling through the door.

“Go away.”

Or a surefire way to immediately identify you and get rid of you within a span of a half second.

“You sure? I bought cookies.” You shake the bag in your hand, hoping the sound is enticing for him.

Silence follows, and you start to think that he's actually considering letting you in because of the biscuits.

“Go away.”

You huff, “come on, Ekko, please? Vi says that she'll come down here and annoy you until you start talking to me so please can you at least let me in? I won't even interview you! I can just stay inside!” There's still silence inside the room. “It looks like it's about to rain.” A flat out lie on your part, it's the sunniest day in the undercity with sunlight shining in between the large gingko leaves.

Then you hear it, a slight shuffle of feet then a metal lock sliding open. He doesn't open the door for you, instead, you hear his fading footsteps and the creak of a stool sliding back.

Smiling victoriously, you grab the doorknob, twisting it as you peek inside the dark room. Save for the lamp sitting on his table at the far end of the wall, it's completely dark inside. The smell of sizzling metal has you wrinkling your nose.

“I'm coming in.” You wiggle yourself inside to lessen the light from entering his abode lest he sees through your half baked lie. “Morning, Ekko.”

He doesn't even grunt in greeting.

You notice that he's sitting in the same position you left him yesterday. You've managed to get inside after telling him that the children are after you and your magic pen again. Which they were, so technically not a lie. Whenever you can't convince him to let you inside, you spend your time with his people. Either interviewing them or just hanging around them. Most of them welcomed you with open arms, some were a bit apprehensive at first, but after a while they've become accustomed to you and your noxian self.

Your footsteps are measured as you cross the small distance. You've learned your lesson after accidentally stepping on a stray fan blade that sent you tumbling down on the floor. Ekko did help you up on your feet, but he continued to ignore you for the rest of the time you were inside.

“I hope you like sugar cookies. I saved you a batch after someone talked me into giving them a whole box. We missed you during the ceremony. Sevika looked like she was about to run home during the speech. She does not like the stage.” You're met with silence as you slide the opened tin of cookies on his cluttered table, you see a plate of untouched meal. You figured that it's not breakfast from how the mashed potatoes are starting to grow its own potato sprout, it's been there since last night. He hasn't eaten before or after that. “Do you want me to get you breakfast from the mess hall?”

He flicks his eyes towards the firefly shaped cookies with its green and blue icing painstakingly decorated on it. His jaw tightens, the dark circles under his eyes seem to weigh him down. The oversized jacket he has on makes him smaller in your vision. His hair looks like he has tied it numerous times without checking it in the mirror. Cheeks greasy, shining under the lamp light. You guess it's oil from the contraption on his desk.

“Is this how you make people talk to you?”

“It usually works.” You shrug, taking the plate of musty dinner. “I'm going to get you breakfast. And maybe something for me too.” You mutter the last sentence under your breath.

“I didn't ask you to.” He says without sparing you a glance.

“Well I want to.” Shrugging, you watch him continue to work on a piece of machinery, seeing how his hand trembles from fatigue. “And, no one wants the boy savior to collapse from starvation do we? What would that look like when they find me, a noxian, looking down at your limp body?”

He scrunches his nose. “They might kill you.”

“Exactly.” You nod, grinning from ear to ear. “You look like a sunny side up guy.”

“Omelette.” He says once you make it to the door.

“Oh a fancy way of having eggs. I heard you loud and clear, bossman.” You mock a salute at him even though he won't see it.

—

You come back to Ekko's treehouse and workshop with two plates of cheese and onion omelettes placed on each of your hands. When you told the firelights cook that it was for Ekko, he immediately gave you the biggest portion and even cooked it fresh just for him. He was kind enough to give you a piece, even telling you that you can't switch out the plates and he *will know. You couldn't tell if it was a threat or not by how he pointed a spatula at you when he said it.

Pushing the door open with your foot, you find Ekko in the same place. All scrunched up in his seat, his familiar jacket is placed on the back of it as sparks fly around him. When you first heard of him as the ‘boy savior’, you always knew that he's still carrying the weight on his shoulders. You've seen it in most survivors, sometimes it's guilt that weighs them down, sometimes it's grief. But it's always sorrow that accompanies it. And even anger.

“You're staring.” He utters above the sound of crackling metal. His head cranes over his shoulder briefly, his thick goggles obscuring his eyes from you. “Either give me the food or leave.”

“Can't, sorry.” You cross the small distance towards him. “I promised Jericho that I'll make sure you eat it.”

He groans, yanking off his goggles as you try to make room for his plate on the table. You notice your cookies inside the tin are almost completely gone. The corner of your lips tick upwards, eyes shining happily under the warm light of his lamp.

Ekko notices, side eyeing you in reply and snatching his plate from you. He takes your plate with the smaller portion, and you immediately exchange it with his plate lest you suffer the wrath of his cook. He gives you a look, brow raised and frowning.

“He said the bigger portion is yours.” You jut your lower lip, shrugging as he narrows his eyes further. “Look I'm not gonna risk it, okay? The guy's huge.”

“I thought you noxians can fight your way out of anything.” Ekko stabs his fork into the steaming omelette, the runny egg drips from his fork as he takes a bite.

“Oh I can, I just prefer not to fight over an omelette.” Hopping up on the table, you sit down with the plate placed on your lap, you eat beside him. He gives you another look. “What? You don't have another chair in here. It's either here or your bed.” You gesture with your head towards the neat bed in the corner of the room. “And I'm sure you don't want me eating on your bed.”

He grunts in reply, continuing to eat. You see the slight permanent grimace he has, how his brows knit together as if he's expecting a punch, and how his shoulders tense instead of relaxing. It's as if he notices the muscle straining under the weight he thinks is the world being hurled over his shoulders.

“Are you happy?” You blurt out. But you don't regret it.

He blinks, fork pausing halfway. “Are you?”

You shrug, eyes meeting with his own. “I'm perfectly happy where I am. Took a while, but I think I made it.”

He hums in reply, “sure.”

“What, you don't think I'm happy or you think that you're happy?”

“I'm... content. Is this part of your interview? You said you weren't gonna ask questions.”

You take a bite of your omelette to avoid his question. “Just curious, it was off the record by the way. You can be happy too y’know.” He stays quiet after that, eyes downturned towards his plate.

You two continue to eat silently, forks scraping against plates. The tension from before slowly ebbs away, leaving a comfortable quietness permeating between the both of you.

Once you finish your breakfast, he's already trying to get you out by pulling the goggles over his head again. A clear sign that sparks will be flying again and he wouldn't care if you get hit by a stray spark or two.

But when he pushes the on button on his soldering machine, it's the one that's sparking. Ekko huffs in his seat, pulling up the goggles and opening the mechanism as it puffs out grey smoke. Hot metal and eggs, lovely.

Taking the one remaining firefly cookie you made, you continue to perch on his table whilst he side eyes you every minute to check if your presence is still there. You chew loudly on the cookie to irk him further. As much as you need to write down his story, you won't back down on his stubbornness. Mel chose you for a reason, and you promised to not disappoint her and the whole council.

“I've always wondered.” You munch annoyingly, earning a scowl from him. “I saw your face painted on the mural. Were you somehow brought back to life?”

Ekko slowly turns his head towards you, for a second you think that he's about to answer you but he only takes a screwdriver that was right next to your thigh.

“It makes me think that you were gone for a long time, presumed dead, that's why you're there. Other than that, you were kidnapped, and then presumed dead.” You pause, tilting your head with a sly smile. His eye twitches at your annoyance. “All of my ideas are of you being presumed dead. Or you've mastered the magic of resurrection.”

“Still not going to answer your fucking questions.” He twists the screwdriver steadily and a bit angrily.

You press on.

“You should see the bridge sometime, it looks amazing. There's shops everywhere, I even got a Piltover and Zaun unity keychain there.” Your finger loops around the keychain where it's hooked on your satchel's zipper, showing the metal design to him.

You're only met with silence and the sound of gears grating against each other. Or was that his teeth clenching down in irritation?

“I've been told that you seem to do everything perfectly for the first time.” You say as the machine puffs out smoke and fizzles out. “Well, not everything, I suppose.”

“I don't do anything without thinking about it.” He grips the screwdriver tightly, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose, smudging the white face paint and transferring it on his glove. He notices your small smile at his answer. “Still not answering your questions.” Pointing the screwdriver at you, it only earns a grin from you instead of striking fear in your heart. It's hard to be menacing when you just scarfed down six cookies in one sitting. Sighing, he returns to his work instead of wasting his time on you, who clearly won't give up. “Go away, red.”

“Oh, a nickname!” You clap your hands together just to irk him some more.

“Not a nickname,” he debunks the insinuation that he's friends with you. “I forgot your name.”

“Well, that's impossible, it's unforgettable. And that was rude.” You point at him playfully, taking one last bite of the cookie.

“You're making my machines break by your mere voice alone.” He says in between clenched teeth. “Leave.” Gesturing towards the door with his head, you shrug, finally relenting now that you've made progress with him.

He'll be an open book for you in no time.

“I was about to leave anyway. Got an appointment with Sevika.” You hop off the table, taking your belongings and cleaning up the plates to bring with you. He still tries to fix his machine, brows furrowed and frowning deeply. Your teasing did not help him one bit. It's either that or his heavy eyes and lack of sleep are finally catching up to him. Without a second thought, you punch the machine. To your and Ekko's surprise, it cackles to life. Ekko looks at you as if you offended his mother. “I was guessing it needed something to be loosened up. You're welcome.”

“I had it.” Ekko's hand is placed atop it protectively. Glaring at you as you nonchalantly stare at him. You try not to grin at him.

“I know you did, get some sleep and maybe you'll catch what's wrong next time.” You start to leave, footsteps echoing as he stares daggers on your back. “The hideout can survive another day without the ice machine, firefly.” You chuckle to yourself, “see, I've got nicknames for you too, and I didn't have to forget your name.”

The door closes with a creak, leaving Ekko alone once again as stares at the spot you just left. Glancing at his bed, he shuts all his tools down, and slinks away towards the soft mattress. He'll never tell you that you were right. If he was well rested, he would've seen the mistake. As his eyes shut close, he wonders how you also know about handling machines. He drifts off with your pen sword rattling around in his mind.

—

The whole room feels stifling, dust fluttering around, and the scent of metal itching your nose. In those four metal walls, sits a circular table in the middle, free of any decorations, or any pomp and circumstance you saw on the bridge of progress. A single light flickers above the table, papers lying still as the two parties glower at each other.

Sevika has told you that the meeting locations change with every meeting to protect the information from getting out and into the hands of someone else with ill intentions. Despite the meetings under lock and key, Sevika holds a community talk every week so that the people in the undercity knows about all the progress in different matters regarding their city.

Ekko's jaw tightens as Sevika continues to explain what happened during the last council meeting she was in. His brown eyes swirl with tethered anger. Hopefully not at you as you sit on his left side a few seats away from him, writing away the typical scene between a council member and a pillar of Zaun.

This is how things get done here, under a single bulb of light in a room hidden underneath the city. It's not just Ekko or Sevika talking (sometimes arguing) down here, there are a few notable people from Zaun speaking their piece. But they know when to stop talking when the two are at each other's throats. They watch their bickering back and forth, mouths keeping mum as they bide their time.

Sevika sighs after her explanation, fingers pinching at the bridge of her nose. “We need to go through a lot of red tape just to pass it, Ekko.”

“Maybe you didn't try hard enough.” Ekko raises a brow, eye twitching in annoyance. “It's been six fucking months since we submitted the appeal, approving something like this shouldn't be so hard.”

“What the hell do you think I've been doing this whole time?” She scoffs in her seat, metal arm clanging against the table as she lays it on the surface. “I'm trying here, Ekko.”

“Try harder.” He says through gritted teeth. “There's still no clean water down in the south, it's been years. Add that shimmer’s still getting through the city, and we have no idea who's making and distributing it. This shouldn't be a fucking problem anymore, Sevika.”

“The council doesn't like it either.” She leans forward, eyes narrowed at Ekko. “But we have to be patient, the task force is doing all they can to find—”

“The fucking task force,” he clicks his tongue. “All they've done is falsely arrest our people, leaving the actual assholes to roam free. Just last week we got a handful of them trying to distribute.” Moving, he leaned further on the table, fist placed atop it as his eyes challenged Sevika. “Not to mention that the grey still lingers down in the mines near the south. There are kids there.”

“Don't you think I don't know that?” Her tone is sharp, eyes boring into Ekko. “You can't sic your firelights on them whenever you want to anymore. That's an enforcer’s job. The council doesn't like it when citizens take matters into their own hands.” She points at him. “Listen, I don't like enforcers either but establishing due process here would be for nothing if they don't get arrested properly—”

“You sound like them.” Ekko interrupts, chin raised high.

Sevika inhales sharply, sensing the tension in the air is at an all time high. The stories some zaunites have told you about her is a stark contrast to the woman sitting in front of you. Three years being a councilor and a leader has changed her.

“The people who were arrested were found not guilty. They got out a few days ago. And there’s a project that would bring clean water to the south. Same goes for the leaking grey.” She explains, tone softer but not less commanding. “It's being taken care of, you'd know that if you just take my goddamn invitation to come to a meeting.” She backs down, sitting back on her chair as it creaks under her. “We're not enemies anymore, Ekko. I'm doing all of this for Zaun too.”

Ekko scowls, eyes darting around the people in the room to calm himself down. His eyes stop when he sees you, as soon as he pauses at your form, he's already looking away when you glance at his frustrated face.

“Send me updates on the investigation. Every name, address, every single detail that passes through the task force's lips, I want them.” He sits back, arms crossed over his chest as he looks at Sevika under his scrutinized gaze. “And I want final say on the blueprints on the project.” Sevika opens her mouth to contest but Ekko's still not done. “I want to make sure that what they're doing will last for generations. I won't settle for half assed.”

The dark haired councilor chuckles under her breath. Eyes flicking at you as something passes by her eyes before staring at Ekko once again. “I'll make a council member out of you yet.”

Ekko scoffs, wordlessly conversing with Scar as he glances at his right hand man briefly. “If there's nothing else—” He begins to stand up, seemingly tired from the debacle but doesn't let it show.

“Looks like you've warmed up to her. She's not so bad huh?” Sevika says teasingly, index pointing at you under the single dim light. There's suddenly a dozen eyes cast on you.

It takes you a few seconds to come up with something. “See, Ekko, I'm not so bad.”

“What are you even doing here?” He scrunches his nose at you.

“Sevika invited me.” You smile, chest puffing out with pride.

Ekko looks at Sevika with a raised brow.

“The council told me to. And Vi asked nicely.” She shrugs.

“Hey, and here I thought you wanted me here.” You say with mock hurt as Ekko leaves the room together with his entourage. “Wait, hold on, Ekko! We have an appointment if you forgot!” Scampering away, you hastily gather your things as you try to follow behind him. Sevika chuckles at your fumbling as you leave.

Once he's out of the door, he hops on his hoverboard, already flying away. Leaving you in the dust once again.

“Little shit.” You curse, chest heaving after you bolted after him. Kicking a pebble with your foot, you begin the trek to the firelights hideout. Maybe this time he'll talk to you. (He didn't.)

—

The stifling council room has become a common sight for you. Its white dreary walls with its golden inlay and harsh light bearing down on you doesn't intimidate you anymore. It's starting to irk you as the council scrutinizes every word you've written in your draft that you've made enough copies for each of them.

Their eyes scan relentlessly at the pages, silence permeating the room as they flip through it. You feel eyes on you, making you stop from mindlessly picking at your nails. Looking up, you meet with a familiar pair of dark eyes.

Sevika tilts her head, nodding subtly at you with a slanted smile as she flicks her eyes at your draft sitting in front of her. You have no idea if that's a good thing.

You furrow your brows at her, confused and wordlessly asking what she meant.

She raises a brow in return, smile remaining on her lips. Shrugging, Sevika points at herself then over to you as she shakes her head. That's not good.

Eyes widening, you avoid her gaze on you after that. You're trying to wrack your head from remembering if you've written something bad about her, but you come up with nothing. Slowly, you move your eyes towards her without craning your head only to meet with her amused dark eyes. Immediately looking away, you swear you heard her chuckle above the quiet of the council room.

Hopefully her ominous gesture before was just to rile you up in front of the whole council.

A thud echoes throughout the room, almost shaking the circular table. “Right, that's enough. We don't have all day to read poetry.” Sevika interrupts their reading time, palm placed on the table as the rest of the council members look at her with a scrunched up expression. “I think this is approved, yes?” She roams her eyes around the table. Slowly, the council members nod.

“Yes, but I think we're still missing someone's very important account of the events.” Council member Shoola elegantly closes her copy as she stares at you with a raised brow. “I've noticed that there's not a single word from him.”

You immediately know who she's talking about.

With a quiet sigh, you nod. “Ekko, and I'm working on it. He's a bit…apprehensive to talk to me.”

Sevika stifles a laugh whilst you feel like melting under the spotlight.

“Ms. Kiramman, isn't Violet a friend of his? Maybe she could persuade him to speak to our historian.” Shoola remarks to Caitlyn, who's looking tired in her chair as her eyes scan the last page.

“She is,” Cait replies and you subtly shake your head at her, trying to convey that you can try to do it yourself. She seems to notice as the corner of her lip ticks upwards. “I can ask her.”

“Good.” Councilor Shoola smiles as she places both hands on the table and returns her attention towards you. “You did good, everything is up to par.” Up to par?! “You're dismissed.”

Reigning in your annoyance, you nod at them politely before you turn away to leave. The second the door closes, you roll your eyes, groaning in the middle of the hallway. A vase in the corner catches your attention, and you want to indulge your frustration by throwing it across the room. But you don't, instead you march your way outside with more determination to have Ekko speak to you. Not a grunt or a tired “go away.” No, actual words that you can write in your book.

“I'll show them ‘up to par.’”

—

You come back to the hideout as usual, but earlier than before as you have grown accustomed to the winding paths in the lanes.

The sun feels warm on your skin as the early morning rays greet you. The tree stands tall, leaves swaying in the comforting breeze. Firelights are still waking up, bones creaking as they stretch, groaning as they wipe away last night's tiredness in the corner of their eyes. A couple of them wave groggily at you, and a few more make a face at your repeated appearance in their home.

As you continue to walk towards the growing familiarity of the large ginkgo tree, you hear a voice coming from somewhere. Another aspect that you've grown acquainted with in your ever shifting life.

“We don't have a lot of yeast left in stock so—”

“Morning, Ekko!” You wave at him, you've caught him during his morning patrol around the commune. He groans at the cheery tone of your voice this early in the morning. He wonders if you have some sort of extra strong noxian coffee. “Ready for our interview?”

“We'll talk later.” He tells the baker, his arms are bare, skin glistening as if he's basking in the glow of the sun. He ignores you completely as he quickly takes the hoverboard from his back and hops on it within a second.

“W–Wait, hold on!” You try to reason with him, this time with a pack of sour candies you bought on the bridge last night. Maybe he doesn't like sweets? That's your thinking anyways on why he's still not convinced to talk to you.

A puff of dust hits your face head on as he flies higher and higher into a big pipe sticking out of the wall.

“Come on!” You splutter out, coughing away and wiping the dirt away from your eyes as you lose to his power of flight again.

—

The next day you come back to Ekko's treehouse again, this time carrying two plates of breakfast to save you a trip. You greet him warmly, and he replies with a gruff grunt. Sitting on the edge of his work table is uncomfortable, so is the silence. So you fill it with the sound of you scribbling on your notebook, recounting all the interviews you had with an enforcer last night. And you pretend you're not glancing at his face every minute or so. Maybe he's also pretending you're not there too as he continues to work on a new device.

You sit and write, he fixes a machine and stays quiet— It's been like that for a few days, the sound of your pen scribbling on paper has become the norm for him. And you've grown accustomed to the sound of his quiet swearing when he accidentally nicks a wire. An entire week goes by, a whole seven days of sitting in silence with no words shared between each other. Eyes darting towards the concentration on his face, and with his hand silently shoo you away to get a screw driver that's near your thigh. You scooch away with reserve, your subtle smile lost on him when he doesn't realize that he's used to your presence. He's still ignoring you, yes, but he doesn't tell you to get out anymore.

A day or so goes by, and you're starting to speak to him again. They're not questions, if anything they're just random thoughts you have. Whether it's talking about a peculiar raven you saw on the way, or that you've ran out of sugar for your tea, you tell it to him. And again, he doesn't reply. Only either sighing or grunting. As per your promise and your own principle, you don't talk to him about the interviews you have with other people. You can't even tell him how people look up to him after what he supposedly sacrificed up on the hextech tower. With a sigh after talking about the progress of the last drop's renovation, you continue to write away in your notebook that has his name written all over it.

“Did you know that gingko trees are so ancient that the bugs that used to pollinate them are long dead? Even the creatures that used to eat their fruits are extinct. They've survived because of the wind and other factors. They survived through it all.”

Ekko blinks at your peculiar words, twisting around to stare at you blankly. You make a face, shrugging and going back to write in your notebook as if you didn't just tell him something offbeat, and probably something that he felt through his bones.

“Just thought it was cool. Kind of poetic, hm—?” Looking up at him, you find that he has turned away from you once again.

You don't hate him, in truth you love annoying him and seeing how he reacts whenever you push his buttons. He's a friend to you, even though he doesn't see you as his friend, or even an acquaintance. You've been told years ago that's how you usually show your affections. You guess they were right.

—

Another day comes by, another day of talking to yourself. This time, a packet of sugar greets you above a wooden chair placed on his left. It's further away from him, but now at least you don't have to sit on his desk like some paper weight. You smile, tamping down a victorious chuckle as you sit down and tell him about what happened last night when you were running around the undercity looking for a former chem baron henchman. You notice his shoulder stiffen at the name, so you made sure to tell him that it went alright, that the man was just an accountant back then. Ekko seems to go back to his usual self after that.

—

Hours of sitting on an old rickety chair has your back aching, you groan after another day of one sided conversation. Back cracking as you stand up and stretch your lower back as if you have the back of an eighty year old.

“I'm going downstairs, do you need something from the mess hall?” You say whilst you roll your shoulders around. To your surprise, Ekko turns around in his seat.

His eyes weigh heavy with dark circles marring under those seemingly golden eyes of his that glow under the yellow light of his lamp. “You’re not going to give up are you?”

“Nope.” You pop the letter ‘p’ with emphasis. “Trust me, Ekko, if I leave here with an incomplete story, my professor will replace me. And she's ten times more annoying and determined than I am.” Your own joke brings an ache in your chest.

“I'm used to annoying professors.” He scrunches his nose.

“So I've been told.” Shrugging, you leave the room.

You come back up a few minutes later with two cups of water, seeing that he needs it since all the cups laying next to him have been empty since you first arrived. To your shock, the wooden chair you've been sitting on for the past few days has been replaced with a patchwork armchair. You have no idea how it got up here so fast without you seeing it be lugged around by Ekko. You're sure that it didn't suddenly pop out of thin air whilst you were gone.

As you place the cup of water on his table, you give him a genuine fond smile. “And here I thought you weren't paying attention.” Laughing, you're in awe of him. “You're a miracle worker, Ekko.”

He glances at you, side eyeing you as he grabs the cup, its contents sloshing to the sides as he tries to gulp it all down in one go.

Taking it as a competition, you don't let him win, chugging the cool water alongside him while the two of you watch each other and race to finish the whole glass.

The simultaneous thump of the cups being placed down has you grinning from ear to ear. “Looks like it's a tie.”

Ekko frowns, turning his chair around to wordlessly go back to work.

“I'll win the next one.” You go and test out your new chair, and you swear you heard him whisper a, “no, you won't.” That has you covering your mouth to tamp down your laughter.

—

You come back to the treehouse one day to find Ekko sleeping soundly on his desk. Face tucked atop his arms, foot twitching, and cheek scrunched up as he frowns even in his sleep. His twists are loose, free from his usual style as it falls over his face. Oil is smudged on his cheek, face paint transferred onto his arm, and you immediately retract your hand away from wiping it.

To let him finally sleep, you do a double take when a breeze comes by through the open window he has left open. So you turn back around, grabbing his familiar jacket from the bed to drape it over his shoulders. The jacket smells faintly of metal and mint. Careful not to wake him, he inhales deeply when your hand accidentally grazes against his cheek.

Ekko’s frown deepens, and you think that you've woken him up. You freeze up in place, hands held up in surrender. You're already forming apologies in your head, he opens his lips, a name spilling out.

“Powder?”

You blink, waiting for him to open his eyes but he remains asleep on his desk, dreaming of something better. You hope it's something better.

Inaudibly making your way towards the window, you shut it close silently but your thoughts are far from silent. Besides Ekko's name being frequent in your notes and in the numerous interviews you've done, there are two that are more frequent. She's an enigma to you, a shadow looming over you, a story untold when everyone who actually knew her is either dead or won't talk about her. Even her own sister doesn't truly know her. If Ekko won't talk about her, either one of her— you think it's time to get to know her better.

With a quick look at your watch, you leave the firelights hideout in favour of dredging the past under the rubble that stretches underground.

People lie, and minds fade away, but the memories left in the walls and their footprints don't.

—

Ekko's perceptive, terrifyingly so. After the war, his eyes always honed in on details unlike before. Even prior to the war he has always been quite observant, but not like this. Always looking out for danger from the smallest of things. So when you start coming in late, he notices. Then he sees your red jacket finely dusted with a coat of dust, and how you cough against the crook of your elbow.

He knows where you've been.

“Sorry,” you clear your throat. “I feel a cold coming.”

“It's because of all the sweets you've been having.”

You smile, finally having Ekko speak to you. It's a jab, still, it's going in a good direction. “The children like it, you can't blame me for having a few.” Your hands pause from sketching the side of his face, legs placed on the arm of the chair.

“It's your bribe.”

“Please, I've already asked the children about their side. They keep hounding me for sweets, and I like making it for them.” He hums, shaking his head before returning his attention towards his pile of paperwork. “How about you?”

“What about me?” Ekko hates doing paperwork but he soon realized that nothing will get done in Zaun without a single signature on a piece of document. He places his head on his fist, back turned away from you, but the way he shifts his weight towards you says that he's all ears.

“You've eaten those bribes yourself, when are you telling me your side of the story?”

“When your professor gets here.”

You snort, smiling when you get his jawline right on your scribbles that you call a drawing. “That's mean, firefly.” He groans at the nickname you bestowed upon him. You're taking a page right out of Vi’s book just to irk him. “You want a little old lady to travel miles away just so you could tell her the exact same thing you can tell me?”

“That's not what I meant—” the sudden beeping from your watch interrupts him.

Hopping off your seat, you take your belongings and place it in your satchel.

Ekko's brows pinch together, moving in his seat to look at you over his shoulder. “Where are you going?” He checks the ticking clock right next to his table, seeing that you're still hours away from your usual exit.

“Missing me already, firefly?” Your lips curl into a smirk as you tug your bag over your shoulder. He huffs in reply. “Don't worry, I'll be back again to annoy you since this is Madam Babette’s last meeting with me. I have to see her about her establishment.”

“You can just tell me if your sponsors aren't paying you well enough.” He says, still occupied with paperwork, smirk hidden away from you.

“Ha ha.” You mock a laugh, sauntering towards him. “Why, you're gonna raise some funds for me, saviour? Someday you're gonna have to pay me back for those sweets.” Hip against his table, you drape your arm over the back of his chair, head tilting down to stare at him through your teasing eyes.

“And here I thought you gave me those out of the goodness of your heart, noxian.” He levels with you, back straightening as he meets with your eyes. Your face is a mere few inches away from his own, but he's not backing down.

A moment passes by between you, the air growing with tension. Taut and ready to snap. It’s either you bite his head off first or he beats you to it with his teeth munching down on your frontal lobe.

You see yourself in his eyes, your dust laden hair, the bags under your eyes, and your tired skin— it makes you back down. Insecurity making its way to your chest. This job has taken a toll on you, and you know that he has noticed it. How could he not when he has been seeing you everyday for months. You can't ignore how attractive he is, you figured before that it'll fade away in time, but you've grown attached to those eyes of his.

“My academic sponsors are actually quite generous, thank you very much.” Huffing, you move away and walk up to the door, leaving him in the room once again. He smiles, staring at the door you just left in.

He was right, you lost this time around.

—

The walls are lined with pink velvet, sheer red curtains falling over the windowless walls. The Madame's office is all plush and smooth, chairs covered in silk, ceiling covered in shiny crystals that seem like it's falling down like dew drops. The air even smells sweeter inside, fresh flowers left on every surface of the room, as if a florist went through the whole place and randomly put vases filled with flowers in every corner.

You feel out of place, your laced up boots are a direct contrast to the fluffy rug underneath your feet. Perhaps you should've worn your heels? You blame Ekko's treehouse for needing you to trudge up and down its stairs since the elevator broke down a few days ago.

You place the tin of chocolates on the crystal table, sitting it beside some odd shaped vase that you've been meaning to ask Babette about. Or maybe it's a pitcher since there's no flowers in it? Either way, it perplexes you.

As your hand glides all over the silk couch you're sitting on, the beaded curtains part and reveals the madame of the infamous Vyx.

“Your Miguel was hounding me again.” You smile gently at the acquaintance turned friend.

“Hello to you too.” Babette rolls her eyes then walks over to the couch adjacent to your seat, hopping up and sitting cross legged as usual. “It's because he has never seen a pretty noxian.” Her eyes twinkle with playfulness.

“Hi.” You chuckle out. “Well, he clearly hasn't seen Mel Medarda yet.”

“He wasn't too pushy?” She asks with genuine concern. “I hate to punish the big guy.”

“No, he was once again asking if I'm free for coffee.”

“What'd you tell him?”

“‘What’s coffee? We don't have that in Noxus.’” You say truthfully, mocking how you said the blatant lie to Miguel, earning a hearty laugh from the woman.

The beaded curtains part once again, revealing a lithe man with a wolf mask hiding half his face as he saunters inside, and his alabaster hair shining under the twinkling iridescent lights. His hands are full with a tray of teapot and teacups clattering against each other. Even with his face obscured, you can tell that he's handsome underneath it. When he gives you a polite smile, your heart skips a beat. Clearing your throat, you pretend to act nonchalant in front of Babette.

“Where were we?” She smiles knowingly, eyes darting towards the tea being poured into your cup, and towards the way you're trying to avoid the man's eyes. She sometimes reminds you of your professor.

Inhaling, you gather your professionalism. “You were telling me all the improvements you've done to the Vyx now that it's under your management.” She hums, nodding along as she sips at her tea. “You've told me about the present and your wishes for the future. Can you please tell me about the past if you're willing?” You put sugar in your cup, mixing the tea and then blowing at the warmth.

Babette gestures for the man to stand outside the room, which he immediately complies with a curt nod.

“Will you?” She raises a brow, ear ticking upwards as she questions you.

“Will I what?”

“Answer if I asked about your past?” Now she definitely reminds you of your old professor. You suddenly feel like crying.

You inhale, trying to even out your breathing, fist tightening around the teacup. “I guess not.” Slowly unfurling your fingers around the handle, you gently place the cup back on the table lest you break it. “I'm not asking just to pick and prod at your past, I want to know what life was like back here before the war, before…. everything else happened. I'm sorry if I offended you.”

“You’re a rose with thorns.” Your heart thumps loudly. “That's what I guess about your past anyway.”

“A rose with thorns,” you whisper the exact words he said to you years ago, it was his face saying it, but not his voice. “They only take blood from those who try to steal from them.”

Babette chuckles and sips her drink. “Or someone who has experienced hurt and was forced to grow thorns.”

You take your teacup once again, eyes downcast at the swirling pool of auburn. You've forgotten how people like her are perceptive, with a keen eye in judging people. With that, she has succeeded at her profession.

After a beat of silence, and the crystals above shine rainbow light on the porcelain cup, you take a breath. “Why did you agree to this interview in the first place?” Your words are laced with suspicion.

“This will be published all over right?” You nod. “Simple, free advertising. Make sure you mention me and my place by name, sweetheart.” Your eyes roam all over her face, trying to decipher if it's a lie or not. Your pen weighs heavy in your hand.

She drinks her tea, eyeing you over her cup. You can't read her if she has any ill will against you, or if she has an ulterior motive.

So you continue on and do your job. You guess you just have to be extra vigilant, knowing that she deals in secrets.

“My past.” Babette finally speaks, “dealt with the wrong hand like every other zaunite out there. The only difference is that I bore it on my chest. I used it like armour to survive.”

You scribble her words in your notebook, now noticing how your hand trembles around your gilded pen.

“Oh, are these your cookies?” She must've noticed the tension in the air now that she's trying to lighten the mood. You nod, pushing the container over to her as she smiles at you.

“I gotta hand it to you noxians, you know how to make all the sweet things.” Grabbing a flower shaped cookie, she munches happily as crumbs fall down on the shaggy rug.

“I'm starting to think that you're stretching our appointments because of the sweets I bring.”

“That and the good company.” Smiling, she pushes the tin of cookies at you, wordlessly apologizing, or that's what you think anyway.

The session goes on like normal. She told you that she wasn't anywhere near Piltover when the war happened as she decided to get on the blimp out of the city before it all went down. Somewhere in the conversation, Ekko came up. Which Babette smiles at the name of.

“A good kid.” She says, and you softly smile. “Never seen him anywhere near here nor I want to see him here. I knew of him when he was just a kid, y'know. He was rambunctious, always riding that damn cycle of his with Ji— his friend and riling up every enforcer they come across.” She chortles at the memory. “Him and Benzo were a pair.”

“What does that mean?” You ask, circling Benzo’s name in your notebook.

“Both geniuses, good at anything that ticks.” She sighs. “They could've done something good if the circumstances were different. He's raised well in my opinion.”

“How about his friend? You mentioned her, the blue haired one.”

She sighs, taking the teapot and refilling her cup. “I'm kind of tired, sweetheart.”

You nod, shutting your notes closed as she pours you one last cup of tea before you go back to Ekko's. “I understand, maybe a story for next time then.”

“Maybe next time, and bring more of these.” With a clink of her cup with yours in a small toast, she points at the cookies with a grin.

—

Leaving the Vyx has your mind rolling with thoughts of the past and the present. The air seems to smell like a combination of old roses and mint.

Your footsteps echo throughout the barren alleyway of the lanes, concrete walls closing in on you as your heart thuds against your chest, ears ringing with a muffled hiss. Eyes cast down at your boots, you hug yourself tight, fists curled around your coat in an iron grip. The same words you've uttered since your last attack falls from your lips like a prayer. Tone soft and desperate above the wind.

The mere mention of your past and what Babette called you single handedly ruined your day. You're contemplating whether you should go back to the firelight hideout or go home instead. But you promised Ekko that you'll be back, so you'll go back. Maybe the walk on the way there will calm you down.

The harsh sickening thwack over your head makes the decision for you as your vision goes dark.

—

Ekko suddenly feels something is amiss. Like a buzzing around his head, or an itch he can't relieve. He looks at the pile of paperwork on his table that's slowly getting smaller with every hour that goes by. That's not peculiar at all, hence why he's looking around the room, finding nothing is out of place. His bed is neat, the window is open with the birds chirping away outside. Laughter filters upwards to the treehouse, and the sun beams down upon him and the beloved tree.

Everything is normal enough, so why does he feel like something's missing?

Checking the ticking clock, finding that it's half past four o’clock already, his attention immediately turns towards the empty armchair sitting a few ways behind him. He blinks and realizes what's missing. You.

His brows furrowed together, there's no quiet scribbling, no sudden questions thrown at him. And none of the crumpled up look you have whenever you can't find the right word. Twisting around in his seat, he goes back to his work with you knocking on the back of his mind.

You've become such a staple to his daily life these past few months that being alone is a thing of the past for him. Your presence was always there, sometimes quiet, a nice reprieve to his chaotic thoughts swirling in his mind. And sometimes you're talkative to no end, a voice that he has gotten so used to that he can recognize your tone and the usual words you always seem to use. ‘Using said is so overdone,’ you said, all the while using it every paragraph or so. Or a comforting, ‘you should eat something, Ekko.’ He'll never admit to sneaking a peek at your notes, nor to actually listening to you. Your voice has been a welcoming lilt against the awful silence that occasionally plague his mind.

So when you told him you'll be back, he knows you'll be back to annoy him further or to use the quiet in the treehouse to do work. He knows you'll be back because you always came back. It's a fact for him now, just like all the morbidly macabre facts you suddenly sprouted on him at nine am in the morning.

Where in the world are you?

Ekko realizes that he hasn't read a single word since he noticed the lack of presence. The pen in his hand has been frozen for four minutes now, hand sitting idle atop the pile of papers just waiting for his signature.

The clock ticks, and the birds still sing outside, but you're still nowhere to be seen— the door suddenly opens, and the sigh of relief he let out would have you teasing him.

“Thought you finally gave up.” He says, acting casual amidst the internal turmoil he just had.

“Expecting someone else?” Scar's voice jolts him in his seat, immediately twisting to look at his right hand man.

Scar raises a questioning brow at Ekko, who's already bolting out of seat to get his hoverboard.

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Please consider reblogging if you liked it! ❤️

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isatartdump · 13 hours ago

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How does zobie siffrin get infected. Is there a story/character reason like the eye?

Also,,, if the zombies don't rot, how can you tell who is and isn't a zombie? Do they move differently due to the brain being rewired? Do they just look sick? OR. Do they look too healthy considering the situation...

About how siffaroni got infected I imagined it being a mix of them being super tired after going through the house on their own and protecting someone else. I think it would make sense.

It's like what made him lose his eye, you know? That bit of them that would throw themselves infront of everyone. Being faster makes it easier and the adrenaline and tiredness hides the starting symptoms that already involve... Being tired and sick.

This wont change ^. The rest may change a bit or a lot depending on what feels/reads better, honestly...

I've been thinking on what would be better? I don't think they should rot as it would be agaisnt King's wishes but then they'd probably look like they're sleep walking in a bit of an extreme, you know? The infected are healthy- and stuck in time, which means they don't grow old, feel hunger, pain, etc etc- but they're still able to "infect" others. They look like really, REALLY tired sleepwalkers so. Sometimes they're... Almost being themselves. Almost. So eager to welcome loved ones but being rewired to work like a zombie (prioritize infection and ETC) they'd be violent. Loving someone so much your bear hug may break some ribs- It won't matter once you're "frozen" since you don't feel pain anymore but. Maybe it isn't good on the long term.

Maybe I need to re-rethink that. But the heavyness of losing someone that is, roughly, still there is what is the most interesting thing to me on zombie stuff so i'd focus a lot on that.

They're not losing siffrin (or anyone else that has already been turned) but if they can't find a cure they're never having the actual Siffrin back

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two-of-tails · 2 days ago

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Two fluffy tails brush against Silver as Tails seats himself next to Silver, handing the painkillers to the hedgehog.

He has a huge grin on his face.

"You're welcome!"

Tails briefly looks away to avoid looking too excited about the grateful display, though his tails flit against the couch cushions with light thwaps.

"Sooo... You wanna stay for a bit while your head gets better? Sonic sleeps on this couch all the time when he comes by."

[ @silver---linings ]

There were frantic little knocks at Tails' door. "T-T-Tails! O-Open up!" Silver shouts as he shivered under the blanket he brought with him to keep warm, but it wasn't doing a very good job at doing that. Why did it have to be so cold today?

When Tails first hears Silver's voice, he sounds high-pitched for some reason. Why? Is he feeling okay?

Tails' ear flicks at the noise, curious on why the knocking was so panicky. He does pick up the pace while getting to the door, opening it to see Silver, who is shivering intensely.

"Silver? Uh..." Tails tilts his head, before stepping aside to let the hedgehog in. He can question things later. "Come in."

#I DID MY HW BUT I STRUGGLED SO HARD TO FOCUS AAAGHHH #hi anyways #why are you making fun if his big ears 😔

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sunshinebingo · 8 months ago

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Gwynriel - 600 words - Just fluff

Inspired by the picture used in the title card, and a conversation with some friends on discord. I wish I remembered who was in that discussion so I could tag them specifically. Sorry guys 🥺

"It was a beautiful mystery, she thought as she gazed at him, how some people came together as intuitively as the laws of nature. Were such people born already belonging to each other, or..."

Gwyn pauses. She lifts the hand that isn't holding her book to cover her mouth as a yawn break from her lips. She turns the page and continues to read aloud, her hand going back to playing with the silky hair of the male who is holding one of her legs hostage.

"...or was it some gods who, after much observation, placed them on the same path? She had never truly unders..."

Her voice starts to come out a little slurred. Her eyelids droop. The words on the page start to merge, the c blending into the e, the same e that looks no different from an a. She yawns again.

Gwyn picks up the blue ribbon she uses as a bookmark from her lap and places it in between the pages before closing the book.

Her arms rise above her head as she stretches her body to get rid of the stiffness that has settled in after hours of sitting on this couch.

Azriel grumbles. He hugs her left leg tighter, preventing Gwyn from straightening it properly. She huffs and brings both of her hands to his head to push him away. But all pretence of annoyance is erased from her face when she looks down at him.

Gwyn can't stop herself from smiling at the sight of one of the scariest looking and broodiest male that she has ever known holding onto her leg like a child would their comfort blanket. His large body is turned on his side with one of his feet dangling off the end of the couch. His bare chest rises and fall with each slow breath he takes. There is a slight furrow to his brows, no doubt from Gwyn having apparently so rudely dared to interrupt his sleep.

She brushes away the few curls of his obsidian hair that have fallen on his forehead. The sound that rumbles out of him when her nails gently scrapes along his scalp is akin to the purr of a contented cat. Gwyn's whole body shake from her giggle despite her attempt to stifle it. Azriel grumbles again and tightens his hold on her. Any tighter and he will cut off the blood circulation in this leg.

"Can I move?" she asks with a light tug on his hair.

"No," Azriel mumbles, his deep voice barely audible. "You're stuck with me."

He nuzzles his face against her leg. One of his hands glides higher and stops at the seam of her sleeping shorts where his thumb starts caressing her skin.

She shakes her head. Of course she is stuck with him. She smiles. But there is no one else she would rather be stuck with.

Very slowly so as not to awake the grumbling sleeping beauty, she slides herself lower on the couch until she is mostly lying down and she can place her head on the armrest. She adjusts the few cushions she can reach beneath her head and at her sides. Gwyn sighs when she finally manages to get somewhat comfortable.

Unable to properly kiss him goodnight, she kisses her own fingers instead and lightly slaps them on the small part of his face that isn't buried between her leg and the cushion beneath it.

She picks her book back up and opens it again, intent on reading incomprehensible words until they put her to sleep. Her other hand returns to its rightful place in Azriel's hair. Tomorrow she will need to find a way to remind him that he is also stuck with her. She hopes that eternity won't be too much for him.

#Insomnia does wonders to my writing #At least I think #Idk #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #gwynriel fanfiction #drabble #gwyn x azriel #azriel x gwyn #fluff #Sorry if this makes you sleepy #Or you're welcome if it's time for you to sleep

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slowestlap · 11 months ago

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After parting with Bradley Scanes following four years together at Red Bull, Verstappen is now working with Rupert Manwaring, who had been Carlos Sainz’s long-serving trainer. Sainz and Manwaring started working together eight years ago when Sainz was at Toro Rosso (now RB).

“We had an exceptional time together,” said Sainz. “We felt it was time to move on. Our lives were becoming different, and him living in the UK and me being more in Italy and Spain, I felt like it was time to change paths. I’m sure Max is going to enjoy the time with him.” Verstappen said it had been “nice” working with Manwaring given his F1 experience, saying he “knows what is needed.”

Verstappen noted managing sickness as being particularly important, as illness becomes inevitable with so much traveling throughout a season. Last year in Saudi Arabia, he came down with a bug that made Red Bull question whether he’d be fit for the race weekend. He only missed media day in the end.

“Everyone gets sick once a year at least,” Verstappen said. “You really try to minimize that, you try to be on top of things, and you know that when you go to certain countries, you know what you have to do to be careful not to be sick or whatever. Jet lag, traveling, it’s really about being well-rested.”

Even at 26, Verstappen is already implementing changes in his approach. “It may sound a bit weird, but I’m not 18 anymore,” Verstappen said. “At 18, you can do whatever you want, even the day before (the race)! Slowly, that is changing as well. I already start feeling that. But I’m sure we’ll come up with good plans on what to do.”

[...]

Verstappen, the overwhelming favorite to win a fourth title in 2024 and, one presumes, the majority of the 24 races, said he wanted to “make it as fun as possible” between races and find downtime away from his duties.

“Twenty-four races is a lot, and not only just the race weekend itself,” Verstappen said. “When we get back, there’s a lot of commitments. You have to get back to the factory as well to prepare with sim days, which almost takes a month as well in your schedule already alone.

“(I’m) just trying to make the best of it. Everyone knows I’m not a fan of it. But I don’t decide the calendar.”

How F1 drivers and teams are preparing for 24 races in 2024, the longest-ever season | Luke Smith, the Athletic | 26 February 2024

#max verstappen #rupert manwaring #bahrain gp #mp #quotes #articles #welcome to the getting old club!!#they really don't tell ya how young the pains starts #i used to think it's gonna hit when i'm middle aged but boom #then you're in your mid twenties and need 7+ hours of sleep to function properly #but if you sleep in a slightly wrong position your neck is fcked and back hurts #it's cold outside and it makes your joints slow #get a fever and can barely get out of bed #i thought i had more time before it all hits 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

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fussystreetlight · 22 days ago

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https://youtu.be/D_aRzXXCv4s

I'm referring to the comments on this video because they give me a headache. No one thinks more about sex, and kids, and "kids in sexual situations" than pro-censorship people do. I don't know why they think book banning is "making sure the Kama Sutra isn't in elementary schools" but...it's not. It's really not. (I also don't like how most of the commenters are acting like the other side is just blowing things out of proportion and making a big deal out of nothing so they can hurt kids because that's what they were told. The first part of that rhetoric can easily be used by certain people to commit or sweep atrocities under the rug. And the second part, that's just the typical anti-lgbtq+ rhetoric...)

Anyway, that's not really the majority of the stuff that gets banned.

I only know about book bans in America so I can't speak about other places. And this is the site I normally use: https://pen.org/

Some of the top banned books were:

Nineteen Minutes by Jodie Picoult:

"Sterling is an ordinary New Hampshire town where nothing ever happens--until the day its complacency is shattered by a school shooting. Josie Cormier, the daughter of the judge sitting on the case, should be the state's best witness, but she can't remember what happened before her very own eyes--or can she? As the trial progresses, fault lines between the high school and the adult community begin to show--destroying the closest of friendships and families. Nineteen Minutes asks what it means to be different in our society, who has the right to judge someone else, and whether anyone is ever really who they seem to be."

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood:

"In Margaret Atwood’s dystopian future, environmental disasters and declining birthrates have led to a Second American Civil War. The result is the rise of the Republic of Gilead, a totalitarian regime that enforces rigid social roles and enslaves the few remaining fertile women. Offred is one of these, a Handmaid bound to produce children for one of Gilead’s commanders. Deprived of her husband, her child, her freedom, and even her own name, Offred clings to her memories and her will to survive. At once a scathing satire, an ominous warning, and a tour de force of narrative suspense, The Handmaid’s Tale is a modern classic."

The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison:

"In Morrison’s acclaimed first novel, Pecola Breedlove—an 11-year-old Black girl in an America whose love for its blond, blue-eyed children can devastate all others—prays for her eyes to turn blue: so that she will be beautiful, so that people will look at her, so that her world will be different. This is the story of the nightmare at the heart of her yearning, and the tragedy of its fulfillment."

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie:

"Junior is a budding cartoonist growing up on the Spokane Indian Reservation. Determined to take his future into his own hands, Junior leaves his troubled school on the rez to attend an all-white farm town high school where the only other Indian is the school mascot."

Yes there are some of Sarah J. Maas' books on the list, but they're trying to ban that from high schools (teens and toddlers are different age groups people, please stop infantizing teens).

Censorship isn't really about protecting kids from "books that predators will use to groom them" or "child molesters", it's not about not giving kids access to sexual content when they're too young for it, it's really not about protecting kids at all, and it's not about getting rid of "icky sex books" in general.

It's mostly about control and having power, especially over LGBTQ+ people and minorities. It's about the people in charge getting rid of any narrative that they personally don't like or silencing any voice that doesn't resemble theirs (anyone who's not a straight white rich man really).

And it's not about the fact that "well you can still get these books so banned books are a myth!" It's the fact that people are trying to make it harder for students to access these books. Books that can help them. Maybe they're going through a difficult time, maybe they're struggling with mental health issues, maybe their home life isn't great, maybe there aren't many other people in school like them. And these books have characters just like them, going through the same things. And it makes them feel less alone or helps them realize things about their situation and come to terms with it. But these helpful stories are the ones targeted the most. And it gets harder for anyone who's even slightly different to feel like they belong or that it's okay for them to exist and be themselves. Books being challenged and removed from libraries is about making people conform to what the people in power want them to be, and again, what they want them to be is what they can tolerate and use.

PS: some schools in Florida also had to take away and review dictionaries for "sexual conduct" because of a relatively recent bill (that seems to also be against teaching students important sex ed, "along with requiring schools to teach that "reproductive roles are binary, stable and unchangeable"). But also the Bible is apparently still allowed, despite having all that stuff people claim to dislike.

#vent post #long vent #proshipper #proshipper safe #proshippers are welcome #proshipping #proship #people are hypocrites #it's not about protecting kids #look at what books are actually being challenged #and look at how they still allow books that include the topics you claim to be “protecting kids” from #it's only not allowed when it's the “wrong” people doing it #and they're trying to take away resources that teach students about themselves #sex ed is important #it's about knowing about your body #and yes it briefly teaches about sex but teaching people about their natural feelings and how to handle them #and how to have safe and consensual sex is also important #so is teaching people that not everyone is the same and it's okay to be different #different race sexuality gender ect #if someone says “it's to protect kids!”#be wary of them!#but people are...way too eager to blindly believe in any narrative that lets them point and laugh at someone else #Because most of them time at best they don't actually care or at worst they're harming kids #and again why are the pro-censorship crowd so fixated on kids having sex?#“you're against banning books? You want to sleep with a child then!”#why is that where your mind immediately went to?#you're the one who brought up sleeping with a kid unprompted #it's weird and not normal for this to always be on your mind and for you to relate it to every situation #despite always loudly crying how much you hate it #that just makes it weirder tbh these people are...not okay imo

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girlivealwaysbean · 6 months ago

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just found out that instead of my mom my fucking shitass dad is coming home FOR A WEEK

#ugh i really want to kill someone rn im so mad #why can't he just fucking leave us alone #i know he used to be home 24/7/365 days just a year ago but istg it took us no time to adjust to life without him #now he comes home for like 2 days and my blood starts to boil i can't bear him he's so fucking irritating and interfering #mom coming home would have been relaxing finally burden free after 15 days #now the burden will be double tripled he's such a fucking lazy slob he can't even get his own glass of water #and he'll sleep in our room because it has ac UGHHHHHHHJHH it's so yuck i won't have a minute to myself and my mental health will decline #even MORE than it already has like if that's even possible #and he doesn't take his fucking meds so he's all weak and sick and lazy and he expects us to coddle him #well you know what fuck him im not even going to pretend to be happy that he's here or be nice to him and try to make him feel welcome #he broke this family up and it's going to stay broken up forever so fuck himmmm #and i have a freaking 750 ml bottle of vodka lying in my dresser what the fuck do i do with it now huh?????#it's only like 1/4th empty 3/4th is still full #and it's my sisters birthday on 26th and they'll both be here ugh i was sooo looking forward to actually celebrating with her #now she'll feel miserable and horrible and it'll be JUST like every other birthday she's spent at home #fucking grand #ugh god i sooo do not want to cook dinner for 4 people im so sick of this #and he isn't even satisfied with dinner he fucking eats like 4 times a day he wants a hot breakfast and lunch and evening snack and dinner #man i hope something happens to him and he isn't able to come🙏🙏 god if you're real 🙏🙏🙏🙏

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amlettmarshmallow · 2 years ago

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Anyone wanna read a strange story that won't make much sense?

@garlicbreadcat2006 gotta give credit where credit is due. Thanks to my awesome cousin. Some of these characters are theirs and they took all the messages I wrote this in and put it in a google doc. Now buckle up because this is gonna get weird.

Apologies in advance for any spelling mistakes.

It was a dark night. Nothing to be seen for miles in the empty wasteland surrounding the realm. There he was. Crouched on the city wall, surrounded in fog and gloom. Gavin. The Shipper Guy. Every night he could be seen, there on the wall, waiting for his sworn enemy to appear from the darkness to challenge his power.

Felicity was her name. She was so dark that even darkness feared her. But Gavin was not afraid. He had faced her many a time before. And each time she had retreated like the darkness at sunrise. And Gavin was the sun.

Gavin peered into the dark shadows before him. And saw her. The accursed one. She had created false ships and turned them into things. She acted as if she were everyone's friend. But in truth she was the darkest unclean evil ever to walk the earth.

She tricked her aforesaid "friends" into doing her bidding. She laced her treats and delectables with poison that allowed her to control their minds.

Thankfully her accomplices had not accompanied her this night. That would have meant near doom for everyone in the realm.

Rosie and Melody. Beautiful names. But their hearts were the purest evil. Both had the power of love. But they used it for evil purposes. Gavin himself had experienced Melody's control over the mind. It had been a horrible mind wrenching experience that he did not want to ever repeat again.

"Come closer if you dare to challenge me again," said Gavin, his cloak billowing around him in the wind.

"You know that I am the best shipper in this land. You are just too weak to admit it," said Felicity, stepping closer to the wall which Gavin now stood upon.

"Actually, I do not know that. I know that I am the best shipper. And that you hast failed in every ship you hast made," Gavin said leaping from the wall, drawing his sword as he fell towards the earth.

Felicity held a sword made of the water of the stream that flowed out of the city by the time Gavin landed on the ground. "I hereby challenge your right to the power which you now wield and as with this challenge like unto all that hast past before if I should defeat you in battle you should bestow the powers which I seek upon me," sayeth Felicity.

"And I declare that you speak too much in one single sentence," replied Gavin.

"Well you will not even be able to speak when I am done with you," said Felicity, advancing towards him.

"You are the one who will be unable to utter a sound," retorted Gavin, raising his sword in preparation for her attack.

Felicity made a move as if to attack him, drawing him to defend against her. But she dodged his attack.

Gavin just attacked again and again relentlessly. Felicity had great difficulty keeping up with his attacks. Then as their swords clashed, Gavin's sword unexpectedly sliced straight through her's. This left him off balance, and he tumbled to the ground, Felicity pinning him there with her sword at his throat. "This is the end." she said as the readers are left in suspense.

Gavin somehow maneuvered out of her grasp and did a back handspring to kick her in the face. "You are never going to be greater than me. I will always find a way to escape from your treacherous clutches." He said, and then jumped over the head of Felicity, landing behind her.

Felicity spun around caught off guard by the suddenness of what he had just done. "You still haven't defeated me though. And you probably never will." She said as she ran back into the dark night.

Cal stood in the doorway of her favorite restaurant leaning against the door frame. Waiting for Gavin. He said he would come as soon as morning came. Cal just stood there in her jeans, tucked in t-shirt and jean jacket, chewing a piece of gum and blowing an occasional bubble. Then she saw a figure in the shadows. She thought it was Gavin for a split second. The two were roughly the same height. But as soon as he stepped into the light of the street lamp she realized he didn't have blond hair. And then just as quickly she realized who it was. Tony.

"Well. I didn't think I would run into you here." Said Tony as he stepped closer to Cal. " I hoped that tonight would be uneventful. But I guess I hoped for too much." Said Cal, preparing herself to turn into a dragon.

"Well. Looks like your night just got eventful." Said Tony, turning invisible. "Darn it." Cal said under her breath. "Where is Gavin when I need him." She took her jacket off, threw it up on a lamp post, and turned into a dragon. "How is being a dragon going to help you find me?" Tony said, skepticism in his voice. Even though Cal couldn't see him she could hear the smirk in his voice. It disgusted her. He was nothing like Gavin. Even twins have their differences. "I know something about dragons that you don't. Well actually a lot of things. But one specific thing that matters right now." She said, following the sound of his voice. "And what is that exactly?" Tony asked. Cal replied "why do you think I'm going to tell you?" "Idk. It was worth a shot. " "Well then." Cal said. Then pounced on him. He landed on the ground with Cal the dragon sitting on him. He was obviously quite dazed. Cal turned back to her human form and picked him up by his shirt and tied him to a lamp post. The sun was coming up. Gavin should be there soon. "Where is he." Cal said quietly, returning to her place in the doorway.

Cal spotted another figure running across the rooftops. And again it was not Gavin. This figure was one that was.. Um.. Cat-like. And another figure less cat-like but still one who at least loves cats a lot. She kept seeing Parkersons today. The first one was Mooky. Who.. Is a cat. But right now he was in his human form. The other one was Sam "The Cat King" as he called himself. "Are the girls the only ones who try to act normal around here?" Cal wondered, shaking her head and smiling. They were awesome though. "Hey Cal!!" Sam yelled as he ran past. "Hey Cat King!!" Cal said, laughing. "Hey! I’m the one who's actually a cat!!" Yelled Mooky. "We know!" Cal yelled back.

"I hast arrived in your presence." Gavin said, stepping out of an alleyway, smiling. "Finally." Cal said walking over to him and giving him a quick kiss. They stood there smiling at each other for a moment then Gavin said "I see that my traitorous brother made an appearance this night." " Yes he did. So I had to take care of him. " Cal said. Tony was still there, tied to the lamp post, out cold. "You want some breakfast?" Cal asked. "That would be quite enjoyable at the moment." Gavin replied. They walked into the restaurant together and sat down at a table. Gavin got a few strange looks. It wasn't everyday that you see a man with a cloak and sword just casually walk into a restaurant. But the sideways glances and suspicious looks had grown less since Cal brought him here quite often now. Cal ordered chocolate milk and pancakes with marshmallows on them. Her usual. Gavin could never decide what to get. He insisted on getting something different every time. Boys and their crazy antics. Cal smiled as she watched thoughts go through Gavin's mind of what he should get this time. Finally he decided on just a smoothie. But it was a banana strawberry smoothie with a mix of whipped and marshmallow cream on top. One of the many smoothie specialities of Zac. Drew brought out their order and put it on the table. "Hi people." He said. He didn't seem like he was having a very good day. He hated his job as a waiter. "Bad day?" Cal asked. "Yah. James won't quit talking." Drew replied. "I bet you I can get him to quit talking." Cal said, getting up and waking over to the kitchen door. "Good luck." Drew said. Cal pushed through the swinging kitchen doors. There was James. Washing dishes. Jabbering away. "James!" Cal yelled. James froze. "Quit talking or you won't be anything but a piece of toast." The rest of the kitchen staff snickered. Cal enjoyed annoying James. She walked out of the kitchen smiling and sat back down in her seat. "He shouldn't bother you too much anymore." She said, enjoying the look on Drew's face.

Cal looked around the room looking at all the different people. She knew quite a few of them, as she came here almost every day. But there was one she didn't quite recognize. He, or she, had its back turned to her, and was wearing a black hoodie with the hood pulled up. He was sitting by himself. And it looked like he had several cinnamon rolls on a plate in front of him. And then it hit her. And for some reason she started laughing. "What is it that is such a hilarious thing?" Gavin asked. "Guess who that is." Cal said pointing at the person. " I do not comprehend who it is. " Gavin said. Then Cal watched as it hit him too. And he too started laughing. "It's Romeo. But what is he even doing here?" Sam and Mooky walked into the building and immediately headed straight for their table. "You guys talking about Romeo?" Sam asked. "We heard Cal laughing and figured it was cuz Romeo was here." Mooky explained. " but why is he here? " Cal asked again. "I think he had a break in the work stream and so he came to see Jamie. And maybe some other people. But mostly Jamie." Sam said, Cal nodding. Just then Drew came back out from the kitchen. "Finally convinced Luna Girl to let me off work for the night." Drew said, exhausted from working all night. "I bet 'finally' is an overstatement." Mooky said under his breath. Cal sighed. Still working on some hard feelings between the two. "Ro! Come over here!" Cal yelled. Romeo turned towards her slightly and she could see him inwardly groaning. He motioned for her to be quiet. " I'm under cover. " he mouthed. "Srsly just come over here." Cal said. Reluctantly he walked over to them. Bringing his cinnamon rolls with him.

"What do you want?" Romeo asked. "Nothing." Cal said, smiling. "Just to say hi and see how you're doing." Said Drew. "Well I'm fine." Romeo said, obviously not really wanting to talk to people.

"Work on any interesting cases lately?" Cal asked, trying to get Romeo to talk. "I'm actually working on one right now." Romeo said, kinda grumpy.

"Anything you can tell me??" Cal asked. She knew he would probably say no. "actually it has to do with Felicity and Tony." Romeo said, surprising Cal that he actually answered. "Well you have quite a few people who know quite a bit about them." Cal replied.

"I know." Romeo said. "That's why I'm here." "Well then. What do you need to know?" Cal asked. "Well, I'm trying to figure out why exactly they became evil. Tell me what you know." Romeo said, looking around at his friends. "Tony wasn't always evil. He was just really quiet. But then he got creepy. He had always been somewhat creepy. But now he was super creepy. I think that's what started it." Sam said. "And Felicity?" Romeo asked. Then someone else walked up to them. She had long brown hair about to her knees, and she had a bow and arrows slung on her back. It was Raina. "No one knows why she became evil." She said. "Not even me." Raina shy around most people, unless they were her friends- or her enemies. She tracked down evil doers and brought them back to the Society. It was an ongoing job, because often people would escape from the Society prison, forcing Raina to track them down and capture them again. "Nothing?" Romeo asked. "There aren't any leads or anything?" "Nothing." Raina replied. "Why does this have to be so difficult?!?" Romeo complained.

"Why don't we talk about this more later at the Society meeting tonight." Cal said. "Okay. See you guys there!" Drew said, waving and walking out the door. "You should actually come to the meeting Romeo. You haven't been to one all year." Cal said, turning back to Romeo. "Okay okay. I'll come. But I'm gonna go see Jamie first." Romeo said, turning to leave. "Bye Romeo!!" Sam and Mooky said in unison, as Romeo walked out into the night. Raina walked over, kissed Mooky and left.

Later that night at the meeting: It was noisy. No. It was very very loud. Everyone was there. Herself (Cal), Gavin, Mooky, Sam, Drew, Luna Girl, Raina, Haylee, Zac, Skylar, Jessica, Fansir, Meeky, Romeo, Jamie, Gabe, Free, Selia, Arlana, all the kids: Leo, Jake, Sylvia, Sophie, CJ, Aron, Kiki, Jackson, and Cleo. And then Zane, and..... Where was James.

Just then a huge portal opened up above the table and out fell James, followed by a girl none of them recognized. And she had a hoverboard. "Who be thou?" Asked Gavin. " I'm your sister. I'm from the future. I know that doesn't mean that I will exist one day. But it's very likely. You know. I might as well just stay here cuz if I do then I'll exist for real. So yah. That's what I'm doing. " the girl said. Everyone looked at James for an explanation. "Don't ask me! She just appeared, grabbed me, and we ended up here!" James said, practically yelling, as always.

Cal stood up putting her hand on her knife just in case this girl was lying. "What is your name?" She asked the girl. "My name is Emma. And I'm here to help you guys. Cal. Take your hand off your knife. I'm not gonna hurt you." The girl-Emma- said. "How do you know my name?" Cal asked, still suspicious. "Cuz you're my bros girlfriend. Duh." Emma said. Cal still couldn't tell if she was telling the truth. "Gabe? Is what she says true?" "Yes. It's true. At least, she thinks it's true. You never know." Gabe said. "Thanks." Cal said, "Okay Emma. Sit down. But you can not tell anyone anything you hear in this meeting, except for the people here. Are we clear?" "Okay okay. Yes." Emma said, sitting down next to James, who kinda inched away from her, obviously nervous. After all she had just appeared out of nowhere on a hoverboard.

"Okay let's get down to actual business." Cal said, sitting back down. "Ro. Shoot." " Soo... I'm working on a case right now. And I'm probably gonna need some people's help -sadly- so yah. " Romeo said, still not enjoying having to talk to people. "Aaand......" Cal said, trying to get him to tell them about the case. "And," Romeo said, grudgingly, "I'm trying to figure out the reason that the two became evil and started this whole mess." "I wanna help! I wanna help!! Please!!!! " James yelled. "Okay okay. James. Calm yourself." Jamie said. "We will figure out who is going on this... Mission I guess... And I will contact each of them individually. Meeting adjourned." Cal said. Everyone got up to leave.

James pov. Part. 😁 James walked down the hallway, down to the kitchen to do some final clean up before Luna Girl closed up the restaurant. He started moving dishes and pots to their respective places. Then he heard a noise behind him. He spun around, freaked out slightly. This place was creepy at night. There was that girl - Emma - standing in the doorway, smiling at him. "Uh... Hi." James said, getting just a little more freaked. "Hey James." She said, still smiling. She walked up to him, James backing away until his back was to a wall. She came up to him, putting her hand on the wall next to him and smiling at him still. Okay he had to admit. She was gorgeous. But he knew nothing about her and she was kinda creeping him out. Then something happened. She kissed him. His eyes widened, he was blushing super hard. He had no clue why this was happening. She finally pulled away, smiled at him, and walked away. James stood there for a good five minutes, stunned. Then Luna Girl walked in. "James you ready to close up- uh.. James?" James just stood there not answering. "James. Bro. Come on." Luna Girl said, snapping him out of his daze. "Oh. Uh.. Yah. I'm ready. " he said, following LG out of the building.

Cal had decided on who to take on the mission and they had all been contacted. Romeo was going of course. He was the one who started this mission in the first place. Herself and Gavin were both going, Drew, James, Sam, Mooky, and Emma. She wanted to keep an eye on Emma just to make sure that she didn't get into any trouble, or was actually working for the enemy. She was also taking Gabe and Raina since they knew the most about Felicity, and how to talk to her and things. And mind reading would come in handy.

_____Drew pov. 😁_____ Drew went upstairs to where Luna Girl's office was. She was his girlfriend. But she was also his boss. He never really knew which one to expect. Hopefully he would get the girlfriend side today. Drew walked into her office and said "hey," and smiled. Luna Girl looked up from some papers she had been examining. "Yes Drew?" She said. "Just wanted to let you know that I got called onto the mission." Drew said, hoping for the best. "Really now? I'm guessing you'll be missing work again?" Looked like she was all business today. Drew sighed. "Yes. I will be missing work." "And you realize you will not be getting paid for the hours that you are not here?" They had been over this every time he'd gone on a mission. "Yes. I remember." Drew said. "We go over this every time." Luna Girl smiled. "Just making sure your memory works." Drew laughed. " I don't know how I could forget. You've only said it to me a kajillon times. " "It hasn't been that many." Luna Girl said. "Well remembering that you said it also makes it easier to remember." Luna Girl laughed. She got up, came over to him and kissed him. She pulled away. "Good Luck on the mission. Please try not to let anything happen to you" "I'll try. I've got Cal and the Parkersons there too. They'll I make sure nothing happens." "I sure hope so." They stood there for a moment smiling at each other. Drew kissed her one more time and said "I love you." "I love you too." Luna Girl replied hugging him and watching as he walked out the door. Then Drew poked his head back in the room. "By the way James will probably be up here soon." He said. "Okay." Luna Girl said laughing.

Fansir walked into a dark room. "I did what you asked. I went to the meeting and got the requested information." "Good. Now tell me. What are they planning?" Said the voice from the darkness. "They are planning a mission. To discover why you became evil." Fansir said. "Well then. You may leave. You have served you purpose for now." Said the voice, Felicity. "As you wish." He said, leaving the room. He was glad to get out of there. There was just a dark coldness about the place. He was starting to wonder though. Had he really chosen the right path? It had seemed like the best choice at the time. But he had actually kind of enjoyed being with other people. And that girl Jessica was really nice. And maybe just a little pretty too... He smiled thinking about her. But then frowned. How did he know that they weren't all just acting nice. What if they were the evil ones. But what if he was the evil one. But even if he was on the evil side, would he join the good side? Here he had nice accommodation and plenty of food. He lived quite comfortably here. He had everything he could ever want. Could he give that up? But was he truly happy here? He tried to convince himself that he was. But he still had doubts.

#welcome to my crappy writing #at least I had a bit of a sense of humor #good job if you actually read all of that #I wrote this like #four years ago #????#Bro idk #time passes too quickly #this story really didn't have a point besides making up things that would never happen with me and my cousins little characters.#They're pretty fleshed out characters tho #anywho #I really should go to sleep #so I don't hate myself in the morning #but I did this instead #you're welcome #hope you liked it #hope it doesn't haunt you with it's strangeness #idk if it's even that strange #it's basically a fanfiction for characters that noone knows about #so yeah #i bet someoen relates #anywho pt 2 #I rally am tired I just don't really want to sleep #but I know I'm going to complain tomorrow.#Do the tags always have nothing to do with the post?#or is that just me #if you read all the tags #also good job #please tell me if you made it this far #thank you

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