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novaursa · 7 months ago

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okay this is the final request before close tommorow. make Cregan x dreamer ( Rhaenyra daughter ). How Cregan start to get to used to his new wife. About how she always like whisper, so quiet and how Cregan handle her with gentle & loving husband. Seeing his wife & Rickon. this the final i am sure!!!

make smut if you like

Dreams of Fire

Requests are closed!

- Summary: You brought gentleness to the harshness of the North, and Cregan finds himself warmed by your presence.

- Pairing: velaryon!reader/Cregan Stark

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess

Cregan Stark had never imagined such softness in his life. The cold, harsh winds of Winterfell had molded him into a man of strength, his skin thickened by the North’s chill, his hands hardened by a lifetime of battle and labor. But here, now, with you beneath him, there was only warmth. His calloused hand brushed tenderly against your cheek as he pressed his lips to yours once more, careful in his movements as if you might shatter at the slightest wrong touch.

You had always been so timid, so quiet. The daughter of a dragon, and yet you whispered more to yourself than to the world around you. In those moments when you spoke, Cregan often had to lean in close to catch your words, your voice like a feather drifting on the breeze. But tonight, there was no hesitation between you, no uncertainty in your body as it moved with his, answering every touch with an innocent eagerness that stirred something deep within him. His rough exterior softened further, his strength yielding to your quiet needs.

He kissed you again, slower this time, savoring the warmth of your lips and the taste of your breath. Your fingers clung to him, delicate and trembling, as though seeking reassurance in his solid form. Cregan allowed you to take your time, to explore this closeness in a way that suited your shy nature. His hand slid down your side, his thumb grazing over the curve of your hip, but always with a gentleness that showed his care for you, for this fragile bond you were forging together.

Afterward, as the fire crackled gently in the hearth and the cold of the North seemed miles away, Cregan lay beside you, holding you close against his chest. Your head rested on his shoulder, your hair a cascade of silver and gold against his bare skin. He marveled at the way you fit so perfectly in his arms, how your timid heart had found its way to his, despite your whispered words and dragon dreams.

It was then, in the quiet of the night, that you stirred slightly. Your hand, so small compared to his, rested on his chest as you whispered, barely audible, "I had a dream, Cregan."

The words caused him to tense, not out of fear but out of the weight he knew those dreams carried. You were a dreamer, like your ancestors, and Cregan had always believed in the power of those dreams. He turned his head slightly to look at you, his dark eyes searching your face, waiting for you to continue.

You swallowed, your voice wavering as you spoke again. "I saw… blood in the snow."

A chill ran through him, not from the cold of Winterfell, but from the gravity of your words. Blood in the snow. Cregan’s mind raced, trying to understand what such a dream might mean, what it might foretell. His hand tightened gently around yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a comforting gesture.

"Tell me more, Y/N," he said softly, his voice low and steady, though inside he felt a flicker of unease. "What else did you see?"

You hesitated for a moment, as if gathering the strength to speak, before finally whispering, "Wolves... and dragons. Together, in the storm."

Cregan was silent, his breath catching in his throat as he absorbed your words. Wolves and dragons. He understood the symbolism well enough—House Stark and Houses Targaryen and Velaryon, perhaps—but the storm… He couldn’t shake the feeling that it meant more. Something dangerous. Something ominous.

Still, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if to chase away the darkness of your dream. "Whatever comes," he murmured against your skin, "we will face it together. You and I."

Your fingers curled around his, and for a moment, he could feel the weight of your dream settling between you, a warning or perhaps a promise. But Cregan’s heart remained steady, strong. He would be your shield, your sword, no matter what storm might come.

Cregan stood in the shadow of the great hall, watching as the soft glow of the firelight flickered across your figure. His son, Rickon, sat beside you, his small legs swinging off the edge of the high-backed chair. The boy was always full of energy, always charging through Winterfell like a gust of northern wind, yet now, in your presence, he was as calm as Cregan had ever seen him.

You were speaking to Rickon in that quiet way of yours, your voice so soft that Cregan had to strain his ears to catch the words. The boy leaned closer, eyes wide, hanging on to every syllable. There was something about your gentleness that soothed him, a contrast to the wildness in his blood. Cregan couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth in his chest at the sight.

Rickon was too young to understand the complexities of marriage, of alliances and the weight of history that tied the two of you together. To him, you were simply Y/N, the woman who had entered his life with a quiet grace that he found fascinating. In your presence, the rambunctious boy seemed to settle into a stillness that Cregan often struggled to bring about himself.

Cregan had wondered, when you first came to Winterfell, how you would fit into his world. You were so timid, so soft-spoken—qualities rarely seen in the North, where survival meant enduring the cold, the storms, and the hardships with grit and strength. But here you were, and despite your quietness, despite your whispers and your strange, distant dragon dreams, you had begun to find your place.

Rickon laughed then, a light sound that echoed in the hall. Cregan watched as your lips curved into a gentle smile, your fingers brushing a strand of hair from the boy’s face. It was such a simple, tender gesture, and yet, it spoke volumes. Rickon looked at you with a kind of awe, as though you were someone who held a world of wonder just beyond his reach.

“You’ll be a great wolf, one day,” you whispered to him, your voice carrying the same quiet confidence you’d shown when you spoke of your dreams. “But even the strongest wolves need to be gentle sometimes.”

Rickon blinked up at you, his face scrunched in thought, clearly taking your words to heart. It amazed Cregan, the way you could speak so softly and yet command such attention. His son listened to you, truly listened, in a way that was rare for the boisterous boy.

Cregan moved quietly closer, not wanting to disturb the moment, but feeling the need to be part of it. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as he watched the two of you. There was a bond forming here, one he hadn’t expected but found himself grateful for. His son was responding to your presence in a way that filled him with hope.

You reached for the cup of warm milk you had brought for Rickon, handing it to him with a smile. He took it eagerly, but instead of gulping it down as he usually would, he sipped at it, careful not to spill a drop. It was a small thing, but to Cregan, it spoke of the way you had already begun to shape his son, teaching him a gentleness that was rare in their world.

After a long sip, Rickon looked up at you, his eyes bright. “Will you tell me more stories?” he asked, his voice filled with anticipation.

You nodded, your smile soft as you glanced at Cregan, acknowledging his presence now with a look that warmed him in a way the fire never could. “Of course,” you said, turning back to Rickon. “I have many stories to tell.”

Rickon settled back into the chair, his small hand resting on your arm as he looked up at you with the same reverence he’d always shown toward his father. And in that moment, Cregan realized that Rickon had found something in you that he himself had also come to cherish—your quiet strength, the way you could soothe even the most restless heart with just a few whispered words.

As you began to tell Rickon another story, your voice soft and steady, Cregan felt a deep sense of peace wash over him. He had worried, at first, how you would adjust to this life, to him, to the North. But watching you now, the way you connected with his son, the way your gentleness balanced the harshness of this world, he knew you were exactly where you were meant to be.

And perhaps, he thought with a quiet smile, they were exactly where they were meant to be with you.

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #cregan stark #cregan x reader #hotd cregan #cregan x you #cregan x y/n #game of thrones #fire and blood #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #asoif/got

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 3 months ago

Text

Ludos Imperiales III

Summary: Saving your mates may cost more than you bargain for, but how far are you willing to go to save them?

Content Warnings: Branding; Mentions of Slavery/Abuse; Vomiting

Pt 1 / Pt 2

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Fables had largely been forbidden in the Empire, starting in the early reign of my Great Grandfather Hybern II. Fables and fairytales had no use in the practicality of his Empire. Stories and fables gave people ideas, it made them hope and dream of better worlds than this one. The Empire could not thrive on the backs of dreamers. And so books burned in the streets, and the oral traditions of many people died in the following years. Schools taught with books written by Imperial Scholars, all edited and fact checked by the Emperor himself. The world became what he saw fit to shape it as.

To him, the fairytale idea of mates was a weakness. He declared all mated pairs cursed by the Mother. A bond was a manifestation of a weak will. If you could not thrive on your own without needing another to carry you, then you were not fit to be in the Empire. He removed all mated pairs from service, both within the palace walls and in military service. Mated pairs were not allowed to own land within the Empire, Temples were not legally allowed to recognize or perform a marriage ceremony. They were shunned as lepers and regarded as subpar beings. The bond made them loyal to each other first and foremost, and that was an allegiance torn in his mind. He made sure everyone else saw it that way too.

Father would not have such an obvious weakness. In his earlier years, he’d scoured the Empire, searching every village he ravaged and town he conquered for signs of that supposed weakness. He’d felt a pull, to a small ocean village in Elfhaven, and that pull had led him to a healer’s cottage, tucked into the ocean cliffs. He’d stood on the threshold of her doorway, cursing the Mother, cursing whatever weak will he had managed to leave unchecked, and then, he’d tossed her into the sea. His father had thrown a city wide celebration in his honor. Finally, a son who could master himself and his weaknesses. He used to tell me that story at bedtime, when my Mother tucked me in. Love was for children. Mates were for lesser beings. Mother had never argued with him about it either, this was simply a fact in their marriage. Theirs was of convenience, a mutually beneficial contract, and I often wondered if that story was also a means to remind her that she too could be disposed of if a weakness revealed itself.

But, I had been a lonely, and curious child and would often sit with the Nymphs that lived in the bubbling brooks and streams around the River House, and would ask them all the questions I was afraid to ask my Father. They whispered their own tales of mates between the bubbling rocks and rolling waves and I’d latched onto their ideas of a bond so strong it could bridge a soul together. Perhaps it was my loneliness, my need for affection I couldn’t easily find at home, but I clung to that little piece of what everyone else swore was fiction like my life depended on it. It became my lifeline. I’d pray to the Goddess every night for something like that; for someone who could love me beyond reason.

A dream that slips through my fingers as I step into that cell.

Cassian, chained against the wall with a gorsian collar around his throat, spits at my feet as I enter. I’ve seen hatred enough in my lifetime to understand the fire that blazes in those hazel eyes.

All the air in my lungs leaves in a rush, as if he’d thrown a fist directly into my stomach. He hates me. Hates me for what I’ve done to him; hates me for what I allowed to happen in that arena. Hel, judging by the way he sizes me up next to Father, he hates me purely because I look like him in the eyes.

My chest aches like it just might crack open and spill my heart out onto the floor.

For the slight, one of the guards slams the butt of his spear directly into Cassian’s gut, knocking him to the floor.

Despite the obvious malice, I have to physically lock my knees to keep myself from moving towards him; have to bite the inside of my cheek to not tell them to leave him alone. Maybe it’s not his fault he hates me. Maybe I deserve it.

“Charming as ever, Cassian,” Father says.

Cassian glares through the locks of sweat slicked hair falling over his forehead, “Fuck you!”

The butt of the spear slams into his temple and it takes every ounce of training not to let the dark, obsidian power trying to unfurl from my clenched fists turn the guard to ash. It would be so easy, a mere flick of the wrist and the only evidence that he’d ever lived a bit of dust left to mingle in the dirt coating the floor. I want to. Damn me, I want to splatter all of them across the dingy walls; hear the last, sharp intake of breath gurgle out of their chests for putting their hands on my mate. There’s a possessive, ugly thing that rises in my chest, threatening to choke the life out of me if I don’t move, act, on this base instinct. The bond rattles against my rib cage, a beast in its own right. It demands action, swift and immediate. It demands blood.

“You sure you can handle this beast, daughter?” Father sneers.

Cassian regards me with the disdain of someone who stepped in shit while wearing new boots.

“I’m sure,” I say with more confidence than I feel, but I’m too much of a coward to look him in the eyes when I say it. My gaze flicks to the others instead, hoping against reason that I will not see the same hatred on their features.

Azriel remains tucked in the corner, where he can use his body to shelter his broken wings. There isn’t the same malice in his own hazel eyes, but there is a cold indifference that cracks me open just the same. His earlier appraisal must have told him enough, because there is no lingering curiosity, only apathy. I am not asking him to throw himself into my arms; hell, I don’t even need him to smile, I just need something, any hint that my name alone hasn’t ruined this before it even starts! But there is nothing.

I try to keep my shoulders back, try to stop my body from curling in on itself. I want to curl up on the floor and wait until the old stones absorb me.

“I am curious,” Rhysand says, the s slurred like he bit his tongue when he hit the wall. “Why keep us alive?”

“Why let you be a martyr?” Father counters.

Rhysand studies me, violet eyes--glassy from what’s certainly a head injury, especially with the blood still flowing freely from an inch wide gash across his temple--rove over me slowly, starting at my hairline and working down. His head tilts quizzically when his gaze reaches my cheek. He shouldn’t be able to see anything in this light, but I find myself shifting my stance just enough to block the view all the same.

He frowns as his study goes lower, to the singe across my skirts, and the dirt stains from my stumble down the stairs.

“I’d rather be dead than dragged around like a dog!” Cassian spits.

Rhysand won’t stop looking me over, like he’s calculating something. Not exactly the acknowledgment I want, but I will take the intrigue of his study over apathy and hatred as if it is. Curiosity is better than nothing.

“You will honor your word, and send aid to my people?” He asks.

“If anyone is stupid enough to bet on you,” Father counters. “And if it makes it past the highwaymen and looters that have been waylaying my caravans. Your people might have more food if they weren’t attacking supply lines.”

My stomach twists. So Rhysand hadn’t been lying then, things have truly become that bad? Or have they always been that bad, and the sheltered nature of my upbringing had kept me from truly seeing it?

“Do you have supply lines that run through Illyria?” Rhys counters, not rising to the bait. “I can’t recall.”

“You will be branded,” Father says, jaw ticking as he doesn’t get the results he wants. “You will remain in chains and fight when called to fight. Any attempts at escape, and I will drag your people into the arena in droves. They can’t all be as adept at fighting wargs and Giants as you.”

Azriel’s gaze darkens at the threat.

Cassian’s lips pull back in a sneer, teeth flashing.

But Rhysand nods, gaze still on me, like he’s deciding something. I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what.

“Keep your end of the bargain, Highness, and we will keep ours.” He says.

“Rhys!” Cassian seethes.

“Quiet,” Rhysand returns. Briefly, his gaze leaves me to go to Azriel, and the other male nods, just barely.

“How noble,” Father sneers.

“We will do what we must to save our people.”

Father waves the guard at the door in. Another follows, holding a glowing hot branding iron in his gloved hands.

“On your knees!” The doorman barks.

The contents of my stomach rise in my throat. I can’t let this happen! I can’t let them do this to them!

Rhysand kneels first, well technically, Cassian’s still down from the blow to the stomach; Azriel follows, grimacing against the pressure it puts on his wings.

I cannot beg for them. I will give myself away. I will doom all of us.

I can’t let this happen either. I can’t stand here uselessly!

“You’ll do it,” Father says to me and my panicked train of thought slams to a screeching halt. What?!

The guard holding the iron snorts out a chuckle. “Doubt she can hold the damn thing.”

Father turns to fully look at me and I do my best to keep my chin up. I have to keep the mask up; I cannot let him see.

“You wanted this. You’ll do it.” He doesn’t think I have it in me; that much is obvious. He thinks me weak and spineless and meek, unable to do what is necessary. I have always known it, but I have never felt it so clearly as I do now.

And maybe he is right. How can I do this, even for the sake of protecting them? How can I raise a hand to my mates?

I swallow the lump in my throat. If I reach out to take that iron, my hands will shake and give me away. If I stand here and refuse, I give myself away. There is no winning; how did I think I could play a game like this? He wins; he always wins.

Not today, a voice whispers in the back of my mind. My body moves without my consent, as if I’m a puppet on a set of strings, being moved by an invisible hand. When I reach out for the iron, my hand doesn’t shake, even though it feels like every part of my body is trembling. The iron is heavy and warm in my hands, I have to use both to lift it, and though I should struggle to keep a grip on it, the invisible grip on me holds it steady.

Two guards move to grip Rhysand by the shoulders, pinning him in place, even though he offers his right arm willingly. His right arm that’s shredded from elbow to wrist from the wargs, blood still trickling onto the floor. The wound is deepest on the outside of his forearm, with enough space above the inside of his wrist to mark. This is cruel enough as is, but to add further to the injury…

One of the guards grabs the torch to reheat the rapidly cooling metal and my stomach is once again back in my throat. I can’t do this to him!

Don’t let him win, the voice whispers again.

My body is still not my own, still moving despite my best efforts to not. It feels like I’m watching myself from outside my body as the iron is pressed to his skin. I can’t even gag against the horrible smell of burning flesh, like someone locked the ability to react behind a wall of adamant.

Rhysand, to his credit, doesn’t even wince, just draws a sharp breath in through his nose. He holds eye contact with my Father the whole time in another silent challenge and I cannot decide if he is the bravest or stupidest male I’ve ever met.

The guards reheat the iron as my body moves away from him, and I’m sure they make some sort of snide comment, but it sounds like I’m hearing it from underwater as I take in what I’ve done to him. The blistering skin forms a perfect circle, with the Imperial emblem stamped in the center. It will be a crude scar and hard to hide. My heart clenches painfully in my chest. What have I done?

The guards move to hold Azriel next, and if I was unsettled before, I’m downright ready to throw myself on a blade now. The apathy has left his eyes, replaced now with barely concealed panic. He pinches his lips together, trying not to make a sound as I approach, but his chest rises and falls rapidly, scarred hands clenching and unclenching in front of him. Shit those are burns on his hands and I’ve got something on fire held out to him.

“What’s the matter?” One of the guards leans down to hiss in his ear. “Scared of a little fire?”

“You motherfucker!” Cassian shouts, trying to stand to get to Azriel. He’s quickly knocked back to the floor with the butt of a spear again.

“Do it!” Azriel hisses at me.

My body is still not my own as it moves to comply. The whole cell reeks of burnt flesh and it is by the sheer force of whatever will moves my limbs that I haven’t heaved up the contents of my stomach on the floor. What kind of mate am I?

Gods I am as bad as my Father! Cassian knows it too; when it’s finally his turn, the look he gives me is one I’ve seen thrown at the Emperor a thousand times. There is nothing but venom and hatred there and the bond in my chest feels raw and thin, like it has been scraped and worn down to a single, solitary thread. And yet my legs still move and my hands still hold the iron steady.

He won’t ever forgive me for this. Even if I can get them out of the Empire, even if I can save them from dying in the arena, it will never be enough. I’ve ruined my chance before it even had a chance to start.

Cassian growls when the brand touches his skin, but he doesn’t scream. None of them did. This displeases my Father, who frowns, even when it’s done. At least he is not proud of me; that would be the final nail in the coffin.

The invisible hand still won’t let go of me, I feel it holding me upright, like it knows, given the chance I’ll crumple to the floor and never get up again. How could I have done this?

Father turns to the guard closest to the door, “Go ahead of her to the River House, make sure the place is secure. Post extra guards.”

The elven male bows with an exaggerated flourish and disappears. I suppose I should feel relieved that we are almost out of this godsdamned arena, but dread settles in my stomach. It is not like my Father to make this quick, not for a convicted rebel, and not for anything I’ve shown an interest in. Taking them home now feels too good to be true and I am not inclined to believe luck or mercy have ever been on my side.

“The arena will have to be fixed before we can proceed with the Games,” Father muses. “I expect you to bring your new toys with you to entertain our guests at Amarantha’s celebration tomorrow.”

They’re throwing her a whole parade for her exports over Illyria, of course she’d want them there to see it. I doubt they’ll be the only Illyrians in attendance.

Cassian growls at that. I’m inclined to share the sentiment.

“As you wish,” I say instead. Hopefully, if I can manage to not let the guilt clawing its way up my insides to consume me, I can remain upright long enough to find us all passage out of here by the morning. This will all be a terrible dream. Even if we have to part--the bond roars in my ears at the thought--at least I will have saved them. It might be the only thing I have to give them.

Father leaves first. I don’t let myself look at my mates as I follow. The guards untether them from the wall and push them out after me, keeping a guard in between us, just in case they attempt to attack while my back is turned. I wouldn’t blame them if they tried; I’d attack me too.

I can’t get the smell of their burnt flesh out of my nose. Every time I blink I can see their blistered skin behind my eyelids. I branded my mates.

The way out of the tunnels beneath the arena is a blur, it doesn’t even register that we’re out until the sudden flash of harsh summer light sears my eyes.

There are horses waiting, and a wagon. At least he’s not forcing them to walk behind my horse, as some of the lords and councilmen make their sponsored champions do.

I don’t remember swinging into the saddle. I don’t remember urging the horse forward, or when my caravan of guards split off from my Father’s. We rode together until we didn’t. Starlight, my childhood horse, does all the directing, taking me home on instinct. The house I grew up in, the house I sequestered myself in with the curtains drawn for months and months looks foreign. The staff coming out to greet us swim in and out of my vision. I must answer their questions, because they move things around for our new guests, instructing the guards to take the wagon around to the back of the house, where there’s a guest wing turned into a cell for them. All this sounds like it happens under water.

I hear the wagon roll that direction, and even though I feel eyes on my back, I don’t allow myself to turn. I cannot bear what I will see.

Someone helps me to my rooms, holding me by the elbow, telling me I look pale and sick. I feel like I’ve stepped outside my skin. The tether in my chest feels raw. What have I done?

The sizzle of the iron on skin echoes in my ears. I can’t stop seeing the smoke. Can’t stop thinking about the panic in Azriel’s eyes. I hurt my mates.

I hurt my mates.

Whatever invisible force had been holding me together in the cell gradually releases me. Inch by inch I become aware of my body again. And I make it to the toilet just in time to hurl the contents of my stomach up. It’s the wine first. Then breakfast. And the acidic burn of bile out my throat and nose.

After Mother’s execution I hadn’t been able to stop crying for days. I’d laid in my bed with the covers over me, hiding in the dark where no one could hear the ugly sounds of my wrenching sobs. I’d thought I’d never weep that hard again. I was wrong. This is far worse.

When I no longer have the strength to hold myself up over the edge of the toilet, I curl into a ball on the floor, the tile cool and smooth against my flushed cheeks. The tears won’t stop flowing and the thing in my chest coils and tightens until it feels like a rock. What have I done?

Eventually the tears run out. The thin slit of a window in the wall bathes the room in varying shades of orange, then pink, then purple as time passes by, uncaring to my turmoil. I still can’t bring myself to get up, even as the heat of the day turns to a cool, evening chill. No amount of cold could move me now, a little suffering is what I deserve.

Someone knocks on the bedroom door. I don’t remember closing it behind me.

I shut my eyes against the noise. All this crying has given me a headache, the echo of the door against the tile makes my head throb. Good. I deserve that too.

Another knock, more insistent this time.

Why should I answer it? I should just lay here until the earth swallows me.

Another knock, followed by a muffled, “Highness?” Anise, my maid. Anise had come with my Mother, a gift from her father as she travelled here for the wedding. Mother had freed her from her servitude and Anise had asked to stay as part of the staff. She loved my Mother like she was her own; I have always thought of her like an Aunt.

“Don’t make me kick the door in!” A grumpy Aunt, granted, but her temper is always warranted.

Shakily, I manage to maneuver myself onto my knees. She really will kick the door in and her joints are old and worn, she’ll likely break an ankle, or a hip, trying. It’s for her health that I manage to get up and get to the door, not because I feel well enough to get up.

She pushes her way in as soon as I turn the handle. “You look awful!”

I feel awful. “Thanks.”

“What the hell is all of this?” She demands, waving a hand towards the hallway. She’s half Dryad, her skin like tree bark, her graying hair made of vines and leaves. Though she is old and weathered, her emerald eyes are still bright and shining. “And why are you so distraught over it?”

She paces as she speaks, not letting me get a word in as she wrings her gnarled hands together. “What’s with all the guards? And those… winged males? They are strange and gruff and I don’t like the looks of them. Which reminds me, why the Hels are they asking for you?”

My heart skips a beat in my chest. “What do you mean, Anise?”

She stops her pacing to come take one of my hands, a gesture for a Dryad that is closer to a hug. Her other hand pushes some hair off my cheek to see the yellow tint of a blooming bruise. “Did they hurt you?”

I’m going to be sick again. “No, Anise, they didn’t.”

“You promise?”

“Trust me, if anyone did any damage, it was me.” And I’ll never forgive myself for it.

She nods. “Ok, then, I will tell you.” Dryads, like Ents, are known for their long winded conversations. They never know when to get to the point. I am used to her extra long pauses and rambling tangents.

I am not, however, prepared for her to say, “Well they were brought food and a medic, as the guards ordered, but they refused it.”

Why the hell would they do that?! Was this some kind of hunger strike? By the Mother did they think I was trying to poison them?

“They said they wouldn’t touch it until they’d spoken to you.”

I think the heat has gotten to me. Did she just say they asked to speak to me?

“It’s very strange,” she continues. “Males in that bad of shape usually fight for a chance to see a medic, but they said they wouldn’t let anyone touch them until they’d talked to you alone.”

Alone? They wanted to talk to me alone?

“Are you sure that’s what they said, Anise?”

“They were very adamant about needing to see you. Rude if you ask me. Who demands to see the head of a household like that? They’re trouble, I’m telling you now.”

“They didn’t say why?” I ask.

“No. They wouldn’t say it around the guards either. I don’t like this, Highness. It’s a bad omen if you ask me. The winds have been whispering all day. Bad, very bad things will come of this, mark my words.”

Bad things had already come, couldn’t she see that? They were not the issue; I was the issue. This whole damn Empire was the issue. We ruin everything we touch. They knew that better than anyone, so why ask for me? What did they want? It certainly can't be the bond.

I absently rub my knuckle against my breast bone. The bond feels like a bruise. No, they can’t be asking about the bond. If they know it’s there, they’re not tugging on it. There is no curiosity, only pain. I’ve ruined the chance for anything more, of that I am certain.

This has to be something else, but how can I face them? There is only so much I can bear.

“You’ll make them wait, won’t you?” Anise continues. “You certainly should. It’s improper for a host to be asked for this late into the evening.”

They need medical attention. Their wounds have to heal. And they need to eat. They have to be starving, I doubt they were given a last meal before being thrown into the arena. Raw and damaged as it is, the bond still prompts me to move, even if I’d rather hide from it for the rest of my life.

“No,” I might as well rip the bandaid off. Maybe they need to tell me to my face that they hate me and never want to see me again. It can be arranged for us not to interact, even with me sponsoring them.

If that is their wish, I will honor it. Whatever it is they need, I’ll find a way to make it happen. I owe them that. “I’ll go see them.”

------

Taglist: @sirenpearldust, @saltedcoffeescotch, @littlemissfix-itfic, @waka-babe, @raisam

@anainkandpaper, @rafeecameronsbitch, @whothehelliskayleigh, @lifetobeareader, @blimpintime

@hjgdhghoe, @krowiathemythologynerd

#rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #azriel x reader #Cassian x reader #poly!bat boys x reader #bat boys x reader #gladiator!bat boys #gladiator!bat boys x reader #acotar #acotar au #acotar fic #my writing #my fanfics #bat boys x reader angst

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banyangulf-if · 7 months ago

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PLAY THE DEMO | PATREON | KO-FI

"Feed on life as it feeds on you."

Answering a house sitting advertisement for a wealthy family friend, you make the journey to Southern Florida to fulfill a contract of seven weeks in exchange for enough money to float you comfortably through your final year of university. With keys to a mansion just a few hours from the beach and the promise of solitude under the Florida sun, you’re set for the summer of a lifetime – until you show up to the house and find out your employer is dead.

Unbeknownst to you, something hidden in the mansion calls for your claim – something many are willing to kill to possess, regardless of if you are caught in the crossfire. Attempt to leave and live ignorantly, blissfully under a veil of paradise, or capture what riches live hidden in secret.

Banyan Gulf by V. Lovisa @vlovisa

Customize yourself, the Main Character. Choose your name, appearance, gender, pronouns, and a variety of other factors throughout the story.

Interact with and influence your relationship with a cast of five main romanceable characters and other side characters.

Form alliances, or work on your own to uncover the secrets that await you.

Decorate the room you stay in at your employer’s mansion. Choose wall color, bedding, decor, and special personalized elements to help you feel at home during your stay.

Choose your attire for formal events and other select scenes.

Determine your motivations – does money, fame, love, or something deeper drive you to find what lies hidden in the mansion?

Luisa Morales (she/her) – Ambitious as she is brutally honest and determined, Luisa is an entrepreneur at heart. She aims to someday open her own tattoo shop, she’s been practicing tattooing since she turned 18. Her best friend Drew has become her practice canvas, since she’s run out of room for more work on her left arm and can’t tattoo left-handed. Luisa intends to make it big on her dreams, no matter the cost, and desires to create a sturdy and steady life for herself doing what she loves. She is 24 years old and 5’2. Luisa is Mexican, with brown eyes and long wavy hair that she has dyed dark cherry red.

Drew Robins (he/him OR she/her) – When they are not working at their family’s restaurant or deliberately annoying their best friend Luisa, Drew is a recreational hobby addict. From drawing to sports to drink mixing to mountain climbing, Drew has tried just about everything. They aspire to create a life where money isn’t a concern and they can pursue every one of their passions freely. Drew is 23 years old and 6’1. Male Drew has relatively short curly blond hair, and female Drew has long curly blonde hair that reaches the middle of her back. Drew has pale blue eyes and is white.

Lorelei Wildes (she/her) – Once the most popular person in Banyan Gulf due to the extent of her family’s riches but now socially disgraced due to a family scandal, Lorelei is burnt out of the city. Her one aspiration now is to escape, buy herself a house so grand it’s a step short of a vacation resort close to the beach, and live in the most luxurious way possible. Lorelei is drawn to everything beautiful, everything restful, everything perfect. She is 24 years old and 5’8. Lorelei is white, with green eyes and light brown hair that almost reaches her waist.

Oscar Carter (he/him) – An aspiring screenwriter and film director, Oscar has his sights set on becoming the most renowned filmmaker in the world. It’s a sizable ambition, one many have told him is impossible, but through it all Oscar has remained a dreamer, an artist, and is making progress on his aspirations through directing music videos and short films. Oscar is 23 years old and 5’11. He is Black, with dark eyes and black locs that reach just below his collarbones.

Ronan/Ruby Hall (he/him OR she/her)– With their eccentric sense of humor and work as a chef and part-time graphic designer, Hall is known for their individuality and drive to live in their own way. In the back of their mind they hold the goal of being a full-time artist someday when they have the time and focus to give to creating. For now, they’re content to live in their own chaos. Hall is 25 years old and 5’9. They are mixed Thai and white, with light brown eyes and black hair (an overgrown mid fade for Ronan, and hair that reaches just below her collarbones for Ruby).

POLY ROUTES:

Lorelei & Oscar – The love they once shared has faded, but is not yet lost. Only you might ignite what lies dormant between them, if you so wish.

Luisa & Ruby/Ronan Hall – Their relationship could never feel complete without the warmth you bring to unite them.

Banyan Gulf is an interactive fiction game that is intended for mature audiences. The game includes many potentially upsetting themes, such as foul language, smoking, drinking and recreational drugs, general violence, weapons (knives, guns, etc), death, murder, suicide and suicidal ideation, cannibalism, gore, and optional romantic and/or sexual content. Please be mindful of these warnings when considering if Banyan Gulf is right for you.

DEMO — BUY ME A COFFEE WHILE I WRITE — PATREON

asks always welcome :) reblogs and comments appreciated!!!

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wingsofmud · 7 months ago

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The Besties

I'm giving Clearsight and Listener more history together in my rewrite. They meet years before Clearsight and Darkstalker ever cross paths.

More info + designs w/o accessories below:

Clearsight:

Clearsight is lowborn. She's the only child of Swiftwings and Dreamer and thus grew up with her parents' complete attention. She certainly needed during her earlier years considering her unusually strong prophetic ability. First she can only see a few minutes into the future, which stretches to hours, then days, then weeks, then months, then years as she grows. By the time she's in her elder years she can see up to a couple of centuries past her death.

This only gives Clearsight more and more anxiety as she grows. Due to this, she was a late flier and started school a year later than the other Nightwings at the age of seven instead of six. Clearsight is a highly organized perfectionist and an anxious mess. Luckily her best friend, Listener, is her anchor every time she spirals into a pit of possible futures. Despite her set backs, she's an excellent student and a talented flier.

She's just trying to get through school and navigate through her rapidly expanding prophetic abilities. Then one night she bumps (or rather, body slams) into the hybrid prince on the beach while chasing a vision and watches her every possible future dissolve and reweave itself right before her eyes. Fun.

Clearsight wears a friendship bracelet she fashioned from cheap iron scraps with Listener. Darkstalker gifts Clearsight her earring. It is very obviously worth more money than Clearsight could ever make in several lifetimes so Darkstalker enchants it to look cheap.

Listener:

Listener was born into a large family, smack dab in the middle of eight other siblings. Due to this, She grew up navigating ten other voices in her head, while having ten dragons talking into her ears, and a sea of paws, tails, and wings to step around. Anyone who suggests the mind reader ocean method to her has clearly never had four younger siblings trying their best to annoy them.

One day, while looking from some peace, she stumbles onto a dragonet up in a tree. Said dragonet claims to be a seer, but, in Listener's opinion, she must really suck at having visions if she couldn't foresee getting stuck up there. After letting her know this, Listener helps her down. They hit it off and the rest is history.

Listener herself is an adventurous and excitable dragon. She's not interested in looking too far into the future, and would rather live spontaneously. She's looking into becoming an explorer once she finishes school. She loves hunting and gossip, and is very good at getting into relationships but not so much at keeping them.

She's very opinionated and has a bad habit of never thinking things through all the way, like the time she released the class pets. Or the time she accidentally picked all of her neighbor's primroses as a gift to her crush...who was said neighbor's son. Luckily, her best friend Clearsight always has Listener's back in whatever schemes she cooks up... and acts as damage control. Listener always has Clearsight's back in turn, even when she starts hanging out with very powerful, very scary dragons in her free time.

Listener wears a friendship bracelet she made with Clearsight.

Designs w/o Accessories:

#wings of fire #wof listener #listener #clearsight #wof clearsight #wof #wof art #myart #wof au #wof rewrite #wof rewings

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kxsagi · 2 months ago

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"𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢"

isagi yoichi has been your childhood friend since the end of grade school.

the two of you met as pen pals, paired together by your teachers in a random classroom exercise. at first, it was just an assignment, another task to complete, but writing to isagi quickly became something more that never stopped. he had a way with words that made every letter feel effortless, as if the two of you had known each other for lifetimes.

you were polar opposites – he, the athletic dreamer, chasing soccer with everything he had; you, the studious one, always lost in books and ambition. but even in your differences, there were bridges you crossed together – shared music tastes, the same love for certain foods, the way your minds met in a space only the two of you understood.

despite living an hour’s train ride apart, in entirely different cities, the two of you agreed on three simple rules:

no social media.

no phone numbers.

no pictures.

letters were your only means of communication – old-fashioned, tangible, and filled with a mystery that neither of you wanted to shatter. isagi never minded. in fact, he loved it. he loved the way your cream-colored envelopes always arrived with a gold-stamped lotus wax seal. the way your handwriting curved in distinct strokes, familiar yet mesmerizing. even the navy blue ink, scented faintly of blueberries, became something he cherished, something uniquely you.

and somehow, through those letters, he had fallen in love.

fate, it seemed, had its own plans.

at his favorite café in saitama, isagi stood just a few meters away from you. unaware.

he entered as he always did, stepping through the glass doors, eyes scanning the menu out of habit before deciding, as always, to stick with his usual order. after paying, he moved to the side, waiting near the pickup area, his mind drifting to thoughts of soccer strategies, until something pulled him back to the present.

a song.

infrunami by steve lacy.

a song the two of you had once raved about in your letters, one you would occasionally quote to each other like a secret language.

and then, accompanying the melody, was a soft voice, almost absentmindedly singing along from a nearby table.

he turned instinctively, ready to start a conversation with this stranger about the song, only for his breath to catch the moment he laid eyes on you.

you were absolutely gorgeous.

the way loose strands of your hair fell as you leaned over your notebook. the subtle gloss on your lips, the same brand of balm you once mentioned using to keep them from drying out. but also, the navy blue pen in your hand, identical in shade to the ink that stained the letters he reread too often. the curves of your handwriting… your handwriting.

it had to be a coincidence. he blinked, rubbed his eyes, convinced that maybe he was just imagining things. but then, he heard your name called.

and the nickname. his nickname for you.

you glanced up at the sound, meeting his gaze for a fleeting moment. to you, it was just another awkward moment of unintentional eye contact with a stranger. you brushed it off, stepping up to the counter to collect your matcha, offering a quiet “thank you” to the barista before turning back toward your table.

but as you passed by him, the supposed stranger who wasn’t a stranger at all, you heard him say something, something so soft, so filled with disbelief, that it stopped you mid-step.

“this whole time… you were right in front of me."

a/n: infrunami is my favorite steve lacy song guys (let’s not talk about how i mispronounced this song name for months until someone called me out on it)

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi #bllk #bllk x reader #isagi x reader #yoichi isagi #isagi yoichi x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #pen pals #childhood friends to lovers #infrunami

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malababatoja · 2 months ago

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"Strangeview is a pleasant stopover town, but it also keeps its secrets. Why do people mysteriously dissapear here? Do aliens live among townspeople? Could it be just a coincidence? Stay for a bit and find out yourself."

We're FINNALY back with the final version of the Strangeview - new playable neighborhood based on @budgieflitter crazy idea to mix Pleasantview and Strangeview into one. UPDATE 9 (26.02.25 9p.m. CET): -some small fixes (moved things so You can get to the telescopes at Broke-Dreamers; Darren dont think that he cheats on Darleen when in love; lowered Darren career level and skills to be consistent with the family description) -changed Broke-Dreamers description a little, because it confused a lot of people UPDATE 8 (18.02.25 10a.m. CET): -ADDED THE SUBURB VERSIONS!! -fixed Goth attic UPDATE 7 (14.02.25 2p.m. CET): -fixed Lucy Burb lifetime want -added interesting recessive genes for Jennifer, Lucy, Angela and Lilith

UPDATE 6 (13.02.25 9p.m. CET): Im very sorry, but it turned out that bc of one mistake - Bella in missingBella version was really a townie. I know this is a huge f-up. I fixed it, and You can redownload the n-hood. If You want to hide Your Bella without redownloading nhood You can go with April Black instructions in her video at the really end section called "Summary". But REMEMBER to first delete Bella from "Bendett" (Townies) family. Without it IT WONT work out.

UPDATE 5 (13.02.25 2p.m. CET): -fixed relation between Dustin and Beau so they fully recognize each other as family -fixed relations between Dirk ---> Dustin, Beau so they fully don't recognize each other as family -restored graves on Goth flat and Cemetery --> its clearly aesthetic thing tho, You can restore them if You want using "Urnstone Spawner" from modthesims

UPDATE 4 (12.05.25 8p.m. CET): It turned out, that suspiciously Brandi was not pregnant... I updated the files. Now You can: -redownload the neighborhood -go to Insimenator --> Reproductive ---> Have baby with neighbor ---> Skip Broke. You can also skip (hehe) to the second or third trimester if You want. Hope that helps, and really sory for incovenience : (

UPDATE 3 (12.02.25 11a.m. CET): Fixed wrong townie genetics - originally made by EA - e.g Kaylynn Langerak have black hair, but in DNA she has blond hair. If IT IS a problem for You now You can: - redownload the neighborhood - change DNA Yourself (that's the 15min of work, in SimPe) here's a list of all townies with wrong DNA https://thesims2.livejournal.com/5126949.html You can also play the neighborhood as You were - just keep in mind that their children may have suprising hair color!

UPDATE 2 (11.02.25 9p.m. CET): Huge thanks to @grottydotty for checking out the neighborhood and letting us know about some oversights. We fixed a lot of "aesthetic" oversights, mostly in sims memories.

UPDATE 1 (11.02.25 3p.m. CET): -fixed family ties so PT7 is NOT a sibling of Nestor Caliente (lmao) -added family flag for Alexander and Cassandra so they're recognized FULLY a family if You don't want to redownload whole hood, just "set (them) as siblings" in InSim, and it could be fine -Fixed description of neighborhood in both versions -Added missing neighborhood storytelling in "missingBella" version

The neighborhood comes in two versions:

V1 With Bella as a townie as in Clean Pleasantview

V2 With missing Bella as in OG Pleasantview (based on April Black video, debunking how it's actually done, that Bella is missing)

The neighborhood is for UC or LC; it is a maxis match neighborhood, except few recommended mods/CC below.

The townies and sims have slightly updated looks to match the Strangetown vibe.

Almost every lot was build by @peanuttysims and I think he did an AMAZING job. He've got such a talent!!!

Every house is a combination of both family houses of OG sims.

The Neighborhood comes with a few new lots, every one of them is done in Strangetown vibe. There is crappy "Gas Station"; Trailer Park as a apartment lot; Club/Restaurant in the old factory; a Strangeview Cemetery with a few graves of the deceased; a Pleasantview park made into Strangetown climate.

RECOMMENDED MODS & CUSTOM CONTENT: # Sims 2 Store content (Many sims have the hair and/or clothing) https://archive.org/details/tumblr_fae6a4b9e8cb9aa38c5f84f4e596d474_5fa9111e_540

# A mod "Watch TV from all chairs"

https://modthesims.info/d/462269/watch-tv-from-all-chairs.html

There could be problems with sims not-sitting while watching TV. This mod fixes it.

# Mirrored spiral stairs from AL

https://www.thesimsresource.com/artists/AnoeskaB/downloads/details/category/sims2-sets-objects/title/mmf-spiral-stairs-apartment-life/id/842450/

Just a mirrored version of Apartment Life spiral stairs, they're used in some of the houses.

# Conversion of female "MessyBob" to use also for men

https://modthesims.info/d/636003/vq-yam-em-messybob-ftm-conversion.html

# CREATURE FIXES by Pescado!!! http://www.moreawesomethanyou.com/smf/index.php?topic=1482.0 For Lilith and future sims with alien eyes so the eyes work properly.

# There MAY be problem with Lilith having a normal eyes, while she should have ALIEN eyes. EVEN with Pescado mod. Sometimes game bugs out like this when an alien is a teenager. For better immersion You can download Alien Contacts and give them to the bugged teenager from the makeup/accesories category. https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims2-body-makeup/title/alien-contacts/id/128166/

# Mod for sims with mannequin skin could have BABIES. Kaylynn have mannequin skin, so her babies also could have it, but without this mod the game WILL CRASH when she gives birth to the baby. With this mod she can actually give birth to the baby with mannequin skin <3 https://modthesims.info/d/292423 # For the suburb version remember about "allowMultipleSuburbs" from Mootilda so You can choose more than one from nice list!! https://modthesims.info/d/420924/fix-subhood-selection.html

Once more I want to thank @peanuttysims for amazing collab, and also @sepomitiva , @dina-caliente and Flatera for testing the neighborhood before the release <3

Main hood versions:

DOWNLOAD V1 with Bella as a townie

DOWNLOAD V2 with OG missing Bella Suburb versions: DOWNLOAD V1 with Bella as townie DOWNLOAD V2 with OG missing Bella

Have a great time, xoxo

#thesims2 #sims2 #sims2neighborhood #customneighborhood #strangetown #pleasantview #sims2legacycollection #sims2cc #sims2mod #s2cc #sims2download #thesims2download #strangeviewneighborhood #strangeview #bellagoth

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thewertsearch · 4 months ago

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pipefan413: The children pledged to each other that one day they would run away together. pipefan413: They followed in the footsteps of the dear colonel, in defiance of the old batterwitch. They studied his every jape, and practiced them in secret!

She could have left, then. Planned to leave, even. Grandpa didn’t abandon her, like I'd originally assumed – he always intended to flee alongside her.

pipefan413: But as they grew older, their interests drifted apart. The boy developed a passion for adventure and put aside his study of practical jokes. He dreamed of wealth and fame and discovery and swore he would wander the world. pipefan413: One day he decided to run away with the loyal dog he inherited from their father. He asked the girl if she would come along, but she was too scared of the retribution that might follow.

But I guess the adolescent Nanna didn’t have Grandpa’s confidence, nor his fearlessness. Left alone with a witch of a woman, her childhood was probably not dissimilar to many other children in this sad saga.

pipefan413: The boy scoffed at the danger, and assured his sister there was nothing to worry about. But he had not seen first hand what the baroness was capable of!

It sounds like Nanna directly witnessed some specific evil act. The woman did run a corporation, though, so that was probably just a typical Tuesday for Betty Crocker.

pipefan413: He told his sister that he believed in her, and that she could handle whatever the witch could throw at her. [...]

Those are some pretty harsh words for a girl destined for a lifetime of abuse - but at the same time, he did openly ask her to run away with him, and she couldn't do it. What was he meant to do, kidnap her?

I don't blame him for leaving alone, either. Grandpa was also an abused child, and it would be asking a lot of him to remain in an abusive household to defend another child. He needed to leave that situation for his sake, just as Nanna needed to leave it for hers.

Pipefan413: [...] And with that, he was off, and she would never see him again.

But, all that said, he should have come back eventually. He didn’t need to abandon her for an entire lifetime.

Whatever extenuating circumstances there may have been, it can't be denied that he started his life as an adventurer the same way he ended it - by leaving someone who loved him behind.

pipefan413: One day, the girl was able to gather enough bravery to mention her brother to the baroness, and her desire to see him again. With contempt, she guaranteed that this could never happen. When the girl asked why, that is when the baroness began to reveal to her more than just her baking secrets. pipefan413: [...] The colonel was not their father, nor was the baroness their mother. They in fact had no father or mother at all, nor were they ever actually born. They had both fallen from the sky! They were not actually brother and sister as they had been told either. Again like in many fairy tales, the truth was that they were always destined to become married one day. They were to have two children, a son and a daughter, and these children were meant to save the world! […]

Wait, what? Betty Crocker knew Sburb lore?

...I think it says quite a lot about the Homestuck experience that I'm not even particularly surprised. Of course Betty Crocker knew Sburb lore.

It’s clear that she didn't know everything, though. She was aware that John and Jade would eventually happen, but assumed they’d be born naturally - which makes it sound like she was just getting fragments of future events, much like a Prospit dreamer’s visions.

...or, like a wielder of the Cueball, which we already know was in her family’s possession. It’s sounding a lot like even Betty fucking Crocker was a Scratch pawn all along.

#full liveblog #homestuck liveblog #act 5.2 #s167 #3956

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devoevie · 11 days ago

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So, I've noticed that most of the asks games are for yans, so I made my own for soft yanders/darlings :D

Spectrum: Do you expect your next relationship to last a lifetime and beyond or are you the type who doesn't plan that far ahead?

Deity: What type of partner would be ideal for you? Dominant? Masochistic? The nervous or the worshiper type?

Fae: In a relationship there are no secrets or lies or do you prefer to have at least a modicum of privacy?

Werewolf: How much of yourself are you willing to give up to your partner? Your identity? Your humanity even?

Vampire: Would you be willing to depend completely on your partner? As if you could not live without them?

Kelpie: Would your partner feel the need to kidnap and isolate you or would you go willingly?

Phoenix: Do you believe in second chances? What would be the worst thing you would be willing to forgive?

Slasher: For your part, what would be the worst thing you could do for your love? Either directly to them or for them

Nimph: are you the dreamer type who admires them from afar or the type who takes things into your own hands? Are you the type to take the first step? If not, what's stopping you?

Fairy: Does the fact that your partner can be a pathetic little thing appeal to you?

Shape-shifter: would you change who you are or how you behave to make them like you? Are there some things you would and some things you wouldn't? Or do you think they should love you for who you are?

Dragon: are you greedy for your loved one's time and attention or just enough to understand that they can do things unrelated to you and still be their priority?

Golem: is your heart made of stone or do you fall in love easily?

Basilisk: do you hide the ugly parts of yourself or do you expect your partner to accept and love them as the best parts?

Doppelganger: how much would you want your partner to be like you and how much is too much? Optional bonus question; would you date an exact double of yourself? Physically or just in the personality aspect, your choice.

Gargoyle: are you the yearning type? Do you believe that there really is something that can satisfy your longing?

Harpy: are you the type that collects and treasures every memory of them? Or the type that constantly does things to remember them? (Whether it's gifts, playlists, pinterest boards, anything is valid).

God: do you want to worship your partner or be worshipped? Maybe both? Or neither?

I hope you enjoy it! I may add more asks soon

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mofongomuncher · 4 months ago

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Hru, how have your days been going, hopefully they've been going well if your reqs are open can you do a fic between ekko x black reader it's kinda like a pt 2 to bicep if they weren't dating in that one or you can make it separate where they were crushing on each other for a while (for YEARS) and they argued about something stupid and that caused them to distance themselves and they started to feel bad about how they treated each other and what they said and so they go to reconcile and they pull a " I'm sorry" at the same time and they have a fluffy reconcile that lead to reader pulling him into a kiss cause he was adorable and that lead to him asking her to be his gf and she said yes and like they spend the rest of the night like together(cuddling) and giving kisses 😘 thank you

𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚

(Ekko X Reader)

❥ cast : ! Ekko and black reader ¡

❥ Words: 5,000+

Zaun was alive in its usual way—chaotic, grimy, and buzzing with an energy that never seemed to rest. The streets below your window hummed with the clatter of the occasional yelling and chatting by the Zaunties that passed by and shouting of traders selling scraps. You have been used to it by now. You grew up in this mess. But tonight, none of it reached you. The noise outside was drowned out by the storm in your chest.

You laid down on your worn couch, your long, dark curls falling messily over your shoulders. The dim glow of the lamp beside you casted shadows across your face, highlighting the sharpness of your cheekbones and the quiet determination in your eyes.

There was a soft tension in the air, the kind that made the whole room feel too small—like you were trapped, but not by the walls. It was the weight of the silence that had followed the argument with Ekko. The silence that felt like a cold void between you two, and no matter how much you tried to distract yourself, your mind always returned to him.

His face. His words. How they had hurt more than they should have.

For years, Ekko had been your constant. Your partner-in-crime, the one person who never judged you or treated you like you were just another face in the crowded, filthy streets of Zaun. You remembered the two of you as kids, sneaking through alleys, racing down narrow walkways, laughing at the most ridiculous things. He'd always been the dreamer—the one with big plans and bigger ambitions. You? You'd always been the realist, the grounded one, quick to remind him of the risks and dangers lurking around every corner.

But as you both grew older, the divide between the dreamer and the realist started to feel more... complicated. Ekko had become a leader of sorts, a symbol of hope for the Firelights, building something bigger than either of you had ever imagined as kids. And you? You were stuck in the same spot, wondering if you had missed your chance.

Somewhere in those years of shared glances, quiet conversations, and stolen moments, your feelings for him had shifted. It wasn't just friendship anymore. You caught yourself lingering a little too long when he touched your arm, your heart stuttered when he laughed, and you found it harder to look him in the eye without feeling something more. The weight of that realization was something you could never share—at least, not without risking everything.

And now, after everything, you weren't even sure if that was still an option.

You ran a hand through your curls, letting out a slow breath as you glanced at the worn photo of the two of you sitting on your nightstand next to your couch. It was from the first Firelights mission you'd worked together. His arm around your shoulders, his eyes bright with excitement, your head tilted slightly, smiling like the world was something you could actually fix together. The photo felt like a lifetime ago.

Your eyes stung. Maybe the fight didn't just hurt because of the words exchanged. Maybe it was because you weren't sure how much longer you could keep pretending nothing had changed.

It all started in Ekkos room. You were bent over a half-finished project, trying to fix a stupid radio one of the little firelights dropped while they were running around with it. But your mind wasn't focused on the radio, it was elsewhere. The dinner you planned to have with Ekko, you guys had been talking about it for almost weeks now.

You were almost starting to feel like you were just another problem on his list, something that always came second to whatever battle he was fighting next.

You glanced over at him. The boy was hunched over his table, his fingers moving quickly as he adjusted the mechanics of something—probably one of his random inventions. The table was cluttered with metal parts and blueprints.

He always had something going on, always had something bigger to fix, to build, to protect.

You stood up from your workbench and cleared your throat, trying to sound casual, though you felt a bit of irritation creeping up for some reason. "Ekko..." you began, "Are we still on for tonight?"

Ekko didn't even look up, absorbed in the small adjustments he was making to whatever he was making. His focus was so intense, it was almost like you weren't even there. "Hmm?" he mumbled, distracted.

"Uhhh, we made plans. Dinner...remember?" You repeated, your voice slightly sharper now. You'd been looking forward to it for so long, to just spend time with him outside of all this—his endless work and the weight of everything on his shoulders.

"You promised.."

His hands stilled for a moment, and he finally looked up at you. His expression was distant. "Oh yeah...I remember." he said, but there was a lack of enthusiasm in his tone. Clearly, it seemed like he didn't seem to care or understand the importance of it to you. "I've got too much to do tonight. This thing won't finish itself."

There it was again.

You felt a sharp pang in your chest. The response was so casual now, so dismissive. Every single time you made plans, every time you wanted to spend some quality time together, his work—or something else—always took priority. It was like you were constantly waiting for him to be done with whatever big thing he had on his plate, and it was so exhausting.

"Ekko are you deadass?" you started again, trying to keep your cool, but your frustration was seeping through. "This isn't just about dinner...We literally talked about this Ekko. You said you'd make time. It's not just about fixing things or missions. It's about US. It's about you showing up for once, and not just dropping everything for some stupid project or some emergency."

Ekko stood up, his movements quick and sharp. "You don't get it Y/N." His voice had hardened, that familiar edge to it that meant he was getting defensive. "I don't have the luxury to just 'show up..' I'm not some regular person who can afford to go out whenever they want...I've got responsibilities. People that actually depend on me, on what I'm building here."

His words hit harder than you expected. The way he said it, the weight behind it. You knew he carried a heavy burden—the whole city was depending on him, on his inventions, on his ability to make things right after everything that had happened with the Undercity and the fallout with the Shimmer. But sometimes it felt like he used that as an excuse for every single thing.

"Oh please don't tell me you really going to pull the 'people depend on me' card again?" you shot back, your voice rising despite yourself. "I get that you're the hero now...You've got this whole responsibility to protect everyone, to keep things together. But you can't keep pretending like that means you can't show up once in a while for the people closest to you."

Ekko's jaw clenched, and he looked away for a moment, clearly annoyed. "This isn't just some excuse Y/N—I am protecting our people. People like you.." His tone was harsh. "I'm doing this because I have to....because there's no one else who can."

You could feel the anger bubbling up inside you now. "Okay but what about me Ekko? What about us?" You took a step closer, eyes narrowing as you stared at him. "You keep fucking pushing me aside, making me feel like I'm not worth your time anymore...like I don't even matter."

Ekko's eyes darkened, and his voice was sharper than ever. "I've never said you don't matter Y/N.. But this—" he gestured vaguely at the work around him, the piles of blueprints, the unfinished projects. "this is my life. You knew that when you decided to stick around. I'm not going to sit here and apologize for doing what needs to be done."

"You don't even see it, do you?" You felt a lump rise in your throat, and your chest tightened with the weight of everything you were holding back now. "You're so caught up in saving the world that you've forgotten about the people who are standing right in front of you Ekko. You act like I'm supposed to understand, but it's been years, Ekko. And I'm so tired of this."

Ekko's fists clenched at his sides. You could see him struggling to contain his anger, the frustration of juggling everything in his life bubbling to the surface. He took a step closer, his voice lower than before. "I never asked you to wait. I never told you to stay. If you're tired of it, then leave Y/N, simple as that. I can't keep apologizing for not being the person you want me to be."

His words stung like hell. The suggestion that you should just leave—that you weren't even important enough to make an effort for—was such a punch in the gut.

You blinked, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. "I'm not asking you to be someone else Ekko. I just want you to be here for once. Not just when it's convenient for you."

Ekko stood there, a tense silence between you both. His gaze softened just a fraction after seeing the tears build up in your eyes, but the walls he'd built around himself were still there, towering and sealed.

Finally, he spoke, but his words were as cold as the air between you. "Maybe I can't be what you want me to be then. I don't know how to fix that. I can't change everything for you...Not when I'm trying to keep this city from falling apart."

You shook your head slowly, a bitter smile tugging at your lips. "Huh, I'm starting to wonder if this city matters more to you than I do."

Ekko flinched, his expression hardening once more. "Don't twist it like that Y/N. I'm doing this for everyone."

"Yeah, well, clearly you're not doing it for me right?" The words came out in a whisper, but they felt like a weight on your chest. "What about the person who's been here with you through thick and thin?"

Ekko said nothing. His lips pressed together in a tight line, his eyes avoiding yours, the unspoken truth lingering in the air between you.

You turned away, your heart pounding. "I can't keep doing this Ekko...I'm just done at this point."

Without another word, you left the workshop, the door slamming shut behind you.

Ekko didn't stop you. He didn't try to call you back, nothing.

As you walked away, you couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever realize just how much you had given him—or if he even cared.

Ekko sat alone in his room, nothing felt right tonight. The usual comfort of his workshop, felt hollow, his mind kept drifting back to the argument he had just had with Y/N.

"What about me Ekko? What about us?"

Her voice replayed in his mind like a constant loop, each word harder to ignore with every passing second. He ran his fingers over the worn edges of his table, his mind drifting back to a time when things were so much simpler, when life was just about working on our little gadgets, sharing secrets, running through the dusty streets of the Undercity.

Back when things were just him and Y/N.

Growing up together in the depths of Zaun had forged a bond between them that was almost unbreakable. Ekko remembered the first time he had met her. He was about 10 years old, he had bumped into Y/N on his way into Benoz's shop.

Y/N was different from the other kids—they both had a knack for inventions and painting, something that set them apart from the rest of the kids around. She was never afraid to get her hands dirty, wasn't afraid to dive headfirst into a problem. And, like Ekko, she had a fire in her—a need to just build, to fix, and to make things better.

What really stuck with Ekko was how they had always been able to talk to each other without words. They didn't need to explain everything. Whether it was a glance or a nod, they understood each other in ways no one else did. They had each other's backs through everything—the struggles, the losses, the pain of living in the shadows of Piltover's gleaming towers. It had always been the two of them.

Even after everything that had happened—his rise to leading the Firelights, the battles they had fought, and the weight of keeping the city from collapsing under its own greed—Y/N was always by his side. No matter what it was.

But the weight of his responsibilities, the constant struggle to keep his city safe from those who strived to exploit it, had begun to take a toll on their relationship.

Ekko's gaze drifted to the window. He could still picture Y/N's face, even from memory. Her skin was rich and smooth—her long dark hair, those beautiful lush curls, had always framed her face just right. The way her eyes big brown eyes sparkled every-time she spoke. She had such an elegance to her, despite the chaos of their world—she had a grounded beauty that was so hard to describe.

She never tried to hide her imperfections, never pretended to be something she wasn't. She didn't have to. To Ekko, she was perfect, even with all the scars life had left on them both.

Her smile, the way she would smile when they finished a project together, the way she would light up when they discovered something new—it was these things that made Ekko's heart ache now. Because he had taken them for granted. He had been so focused on his work, so consumed by the mission, that he had stopped seeing her the way he should have.

As a child, he had never really understood the feelings he had for her. She was just Y/N—his partner, his closest friend. But as they grew older, as they became more than just kids playing around in the wreckage, something had shifted. There had always been an undeniable pull between them, a connection that Ekko had tried so hard to ignore. It was safer that way—keeping things unspoken.

After all, what if he couldn't protect her the way she deserved? What if she became a target for his enemies? He couldn't let her get caught in the middle of his war with the city's power players.

Now as he sat in his room, the weight of his own words ringed in his ears, he realized he had made a mistake. He hadn't just failed her as a friend—he had failed her as someone who cared.

"I'm doing this for everyone." he had said when she tried to get him to see reason.

And maybe part of him truly believed it. But the real truth was, Ekko had never been good at balancing it all. The more he built these new inventions, the more he fought, the more he realized just how much he was sacrificing in the process.

He hadn't been there for her—not in the way she deserved. She had been right...he had been so consumed with saving the world, with fixing the city, that he had forgotten to show up for the one person who had always stood by his side.

Ekko clenched his fists, his pulse quickening. It wasn't just about fixing things anymore. It was about understanding that she had always been there, right in front of him, waiting for him to see what was important.

And deep down, he knew he had feelings for her. He couldn't deny it. Not anymore.

The thought of losing her—of her walking away and never coming back was terrifying. He couldn't bear the idea of never seeing that spark in her eyes again, of never hearing that laugh that always made everything feel so much lighter, or feeling the warmth of her presence by his side. He had kept her at arm's length, telling himself that his mission was all that mattered, that his work was what would save them all. But in the end, it wasn't just the work that mattered. It was her.

As the silence of his workshop pressed in around him, Ekko finally let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He stood up abruptly, pacing back and forth across the room. He needed to fix this quick, to make things right. But how? How could he apologize for everything he had ignored? For all the times he had chosen everything else over her?

The idea of telling her how he felt—scared him. But it was clear that if he didn't, he might lose her for good.

And that thought, more than anything, made his decision for him.

He wasn't going to let her slip away. Not without a fight.

After the argument, everything felt so... off. Like the world had tilted just slightly. You had walked away from him, angry and hurt, but as the hours dragged on now, the anger had slowly faded, replaced by a gnawing sense of longing. Your heart had ached, not just from the words exchanged, but from the thought that Ekko hadn't truly seen you—really seen you—despite everything.

You had always been there for him. For years, through the chaos of the Undercity, the constant fights, the work that never seemed to end. You had been his rock, his best friend, the one who knew him best, even before everything with the Firelights, before the world seemed to make him bigger than the boy you grew up with.

But somehow, over time, it felt like you were just another thing on his to-do list.

In the silence of your apartment, you couldn't help but think about the way he had dismissed you earlier. The words stung still. It wasn't just that he had chosen his work over you again—it was the way he'd made you feel like you were asking for too much....That you were the inconvenience.

Beneath the frustration, you couldn't deny the feelings that had always been there, deep down. Feelings that you'd tried to bury for so many years, telling yourself that you two were just friends. And only that. That it was easier to keep things simple.

But with every glance, every small touch, the feelings grew.

You liked him. You had liked him for a such a long time. You could never quite put your finger on when it had shifted from a deep, comfortable friendship to something more. Maybe it had always been there, hiding beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment.

Maybe it was the way his eyes softened when he laughed, or the way his hands would brush against yours when you worked together. It was the little things that made your heart flutter—things you never had the courage to say out loud. Because you were afraid. Afraid of losing the friendship you had. Afraid of him not feeling the same.

Now, as you sat in your room, all you could think about was how he must have felt. Had he felt the same way all these years? Or was it just you, hanging on to something he'd never noticed?

You let out a sigh, rubbing your forehead. It didn't matter now. What mattered was that you had pushed him away. Your frustration had taken over, and in the heat of the moment, you had said things you didn't mean.

Now, all you could think about was how much you missed him. How much you needed him—his presence, his smile, the way he always knew how to make everything seem a little bit less heavy.

There was a soft click of your door that interrupted your thoughts, and you froze. Was it him? Did this man really just open your door without knocking?

You laid up from the couch—looking up at the door. There he was, standing in the doorway, Ekko—his figure framed by the dim light of the hallway.

You got up from the couch, not saying a single thing at first, just staring at him in surprise. There was something different about him now. His usual confidence was completely gone, it was replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.

He shifted his weight a little, you could tell he was struggling to find the right words, but nothing came immediately. He wasn't going to apologize yet—not yet, but the hesitation was enough to let you know he was trying to understand where you were coming from. And that small shift in him gave you a bit of hope.

Instead of speaking immediately, Ekko walked closer to you, looking uncertain as he placed himself in front of you. He didn't say anything for a long while, and the silence felt heavy, like the weight of everything that had been left unsaid was hanging in the air between you both.

"Y/N..." he began quietly, his voice unusually soft, "I—I didn't mean to hurt you. You... you know that, right?" There was a vulnerability in his words that you hadn't expected, and it made your chest tighten.

You glanced at him, a part of you wanting to hold on to your anger, but another part of you could see how much it cost him to say that.

You let out a slow breath, fighting the urge to pull away. "I just... I need to feel like I'm not invisible to you Ekko. That I matter just as much as everything else in your life." Your voice wavered, and you bit your lip to keep yourself together.

Ekko didn't respond immediately. He simply stood there, his eyes watching you carefully as if searching for the right thing to say.

For the first time, you saw how conflicted he was. The anger he'd shown earlier was gone, replaced by something so much deeper.

"I've always been here Ekko...I Always stood by you. But sometimes—sometimes it feels like... you don't even see me at all.." you murmured, your heart aching with every word you spoke.

You could tell that what you said had hit him harder than he expected. He looked down at the ground, struggling to find the right words.

"I don't know how to do everything Y/N. I really don't....and I'm so sorry." Ekko admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just trying to fix this world, and....and I don't always know how to balance it all. But I didn't mean to make you feel small in the process. You matter... you matter more than I've been showing lately."

The sincerity in his words made something inside you shift. It wasn't the grand apology you'd imagined, but it was real. It was more than just a recognition of what had happened—it was an acknowledgment that you were important, that your feelings did matter.

At that moment, you both spoke in unison.

"I'm sorry."

There was a brief pause. Then, almost as if on cue, you both let out a small, nervous laugh at the same time. The tension in the room seemed to lift, you both exchanged an awkward look.

Ekko's face turned slightly pink, and for the first time, you noticed how shy he looked in that moment.

He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. "I guess we're both really bad at this apologizing thing, huh?"

“Looks like we are,” you teased, a soft giggle escaping as you watched him fumble.

Your heart fluttered at his little reaction. There was something about how awkward he was being right now that made you smile even more. His nervous energy, his uncertainty—it was so... adorable. The way he was standing there, so vulnerable yet trying to make light of the situation, made him seem so much more real, more human.

You couldn't help yourself. You didn't want to hide these feeling anymore. It felt was like there was a magnetic that was pulling you to him. You couldn't stop staring at him, the way his eyes softened, the little pink flush on his cheeks, the way he was trying so hard to be brave but couldn't quite hide how much he cared. It was all just too adorable for you.

Without thinking, you took a step closer to him, then another, until you were right in front of him. His big brown puppy eyes locked onto yours, his expression shifting to something more uncertain as you reached up, your fingers grazed his cheek gently.

His breath suddenly hitched, his eyes flickering down to your lips.

"You're so cute when you're nervous.." you whispered softly, the words slipping between you like a secret you could only share with him. The intensity of the moment had Ekko blushing even harder than before, his usual confidence was replaced with something softer.

“I wouldn’t say cute…” he chuckled nervously, his fingers still nervously rubbing the back of his neck, as if trying to shake off the sudden awkwardness. You couldn’t help but smile. “Oh you’re so cute.” you teased, your voice dripping with amusement. “I never thought I’d ever see you all flustered Ekko. I thought you were always the confident one.”

He opened his mouth, probably to snap back at your comment, but no words came out. It was like he was frozen, caught in the quiet tension of the air between you two.

You didn't wait for him to speak, feeling the heat rising in your chest. With a sudden, quiet urgency, you moved closer, tilting your head—as your lips brushed his. It was a soft, testing kiss, as though both of you were taking a breath before diving into water.

But that first, hesitant brush of lips was only the beginning.

You closed the distance between you, your hands instinctively finding his face, cupping it as if you wanted to memorize every detail of the way his skin felt against your touch. Everything inside you seemed to melt. His lips were so soft against yours, the way his body seemed to lean into you, as though he'd been waiting for this moment his whole life too.

Ekko's hands were hesitant at first, unsure, as if still processing what was happening, but soon they found their place at your waist, he gently pulled you closer.

The world around you seemed to fade as everything in that moment focused solely on the feel of his arms around you, the way your chest pressed against his, each breath mingling between the two of you. It was everything you'd been too scared to say out loud, expressed in the kiss—it was raw, tender but desperate all at once.

You felt your heart race in your chest, the realization that this—this was your first kiss, and it felt almost unreal.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, you couldn't help but smile softly at the way he looked at you, his face flushed, his big brown eyes wide.

Ekko chuckled, his voice low and warm. "I—uh... wow..." he murmured, his words a little shaky. He looked at you for a moment, still trying to catch his breath. His hands, still on your waist, gave you a gentle squeeze, grounding himself as if to make sure this wasn't a dream.

His gaze softened, and for a second, it seemed like he was trying to collect himself. But when he spoke again, his voice was quieter, more serious. "Y/N... I've been such an idiot. You've always been right in front of me, and I've... I've let my head get in the way for so fucking long." He stepped back just slightly, as if to get a better look at you, but the intensity in his eyes didn't waver. "You've been here, through everything—when no one else was. And—And I guess I never realized until now how much I've been waiting for something like this, waiting for you."

"I've always... cared about you, you know? More than just as a friend. But I never knew how to say it, or if I was even allowed to say it. I kept thinking I had time, that things would just... fall into place. But after everything....I just don't think I can't keep pretending like I don't feel...this anymore." He took another step closer, his voice shaking slightly as he finally let himself admit the truth. "Y/N...I want to be with you. I've wanted this for so long. Will you... will you be my girlfriend?"

Your heart was racing at this point, but not just from the kiss. The words he had just spoken had left you completely stunned, each word sinked in with a weight you had never expected. For the first time in a long while, you didn't feel like you were just a bystander in your own life. You were here, with him, and everything—the tension, the uncertainty, the frustration—seemed to just melt away in that one moment.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the warmth spreading through you made it almost impossible. You had been waiting for this moment for years, hoping he'd one day—finally see what had been right in front of him.

But now the truth was out there, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

"You really are a mess, you know that?" you teased, a small smile playing on your lips as you stepped closer to him. The light teasing was a way to mask the vulnerability you were feeling, but it felt so right.

This was Ekko. Your Ekko.

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound light and free, a bit of the tension breaking between you both. "It took you this long?"

Ekko blinked at you, his brows furrowed as he took a step closer. "Hey, don't start with me now." he said with a grin, the usual spark of mischief returning to his eyes. "I've had a lot on my plate." He paused, a more serious look falling over him. "But, seriously... I mean it all Y/N. I've wanted to ask for a long time, but I kept putting it off. I—I just didn't know how to say it, and I definitely didn't want to screw things up with you." His hand reached out, brushing a loose curl from your face, the touch soft and intimate.

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest, his words filling in the cracks that had formed between you just days ago.

You reached up, placing your hand gently over his, guiding it to your cheek as you leaned into his touch.

"I've wanted this too Ekko.." you admitted, your voice softer now. "I've wanted you for so long." You gave a playful smile, your fingers tracing over his hand. "You're kind of an idiot for making me wait this long though."

Ekko chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. "Yeah, well... that's me. Always running around fixing things for everyone else and never fixing the stuff that matters most." He took a deep breath, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw him let his guard down completely, his expression was so soft, so fragile.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You simply stood there, looking at one another. The world outside—the noise of Zaun, the chaotic hum of the city—seemed so far away, like if it even mattered. In this moment, it was only the two of you.

You breathed out softly, letting the quiet of the moment sink in. "So, no more putting all of your little invention and missions before me?"

"That's no more, I promise.." Ekko said, his eyes softening, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, the tension between you two began to ease.

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Good. You still owe me dinner, don't think I forgot."

Ekko chuckled softly, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. "I haven't forgotten doll." he said, his voice warm but teasing. "But dinner's for tomorrow, not tonight. I promise."

You rolled your eyes playfully, giving him a soft nudge with your shoulder. "You always say that Ekko. We all know what happens the next day."

He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before pulling back. "I mean it this time. Tomorrow. No distractions, nothing. "

You looked at him with a soft, teasing smile. "I'll hold you to that."

Ekko smiled as he planted a quick kiss on your nose before he lifted you up gently. His biceps flexing as he supported your weight. The way he held you so effortlessly, made your face heat up. The warmth of his body against yours made you feel so safe, and the gentle yet confident way he eased you down onto the couch made your little heart flutter.

He made sure you were comfortable before he settled in beside you. His muscles seemed to mold around you as he curled his body to yours, his chest strong and steady beneath your cheek, making it feel like you could stay in this embrace forever.

"Comfy?" he asked as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

"Yeah..." you whispered, your fingers grazing the firm muscles of his arm. The soft, warm skin of his biceps felt so smooth under your touch.

As you both lay there, you could feel the steady warmth of his body, the way his chest rose and fell against you with each breath. Ekko just couldn't help himself—he planted little kisses along your shoulder, your cheek, he was soft and gentle—he couldn't resist showing you just how much he cared.

"You better not forget Ekko, tomorrow…do you hear me?" you murmured, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

"Yes ma'am." he replied, a playful glint in his eyes as he kissed the tip of your nose. "You can have my full attention tomorrow. I promise.”

You giggled softly, your hand resting on his chest, feeling his heart beat steady and strong beneath your fingers. "I love you little man."

He kissed you again, a quick but deep kiss, before pulling back just enough to smile at you. "I love you too doll. "

The world seemed to disappear as you both lay there, curled up together on the couch, stealing kisses in between soft conversations. The rest of the world seemed so far away, and all that mattered was this moment, this comfort of knowing that you were together.

Chattt I really hope this was alright, this is my first time doing a request fic :,)

Oh also, can you guys tell I have a bicep obsession?

I tried to not to make it obvious in the story

Check out my Ekko one shots on Wattpad for more stories!! :3

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astrologydray · 12 hours ago

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Lot of Eros in each degree 😯😯

A juicy, mystical breakdown of how your soul-level passion, erotic magnetism, and karmic desire shows up at each specific degree. Whether you’re drawn to someone or something in an unexplainable way, the degree reveals the vibe of that attraction.

0° – The Raw Flame

Innocent but intense. A new soul cycle of erotic awakening. Your desire is primal, unfiltered, and powerful even before it’s fully understood.

1° – The Spark of Obsession

Instant attraction. You fall fast. There’s a need to act on desire immediately, often before you know why.

2° – The Soul Glancer

Drawn to subtle signs. You experience desire through body language, eyes, or intuitive hits. The vibe before the touch.

3° – The Tease

Flirtation and wordplay turn you on. You may attract people through charm, storytelling, or wit. Erotic energy in conversation.

4° – The Craver

This degree builds slow tension. You long for stability and deep emotional connection before physical union.

5° – The Performer

Magnetic, showy, and dramatic. You radiate desirability. You may be drawn to confident, playful, or “main character” types.

6° – The Devoted

You express passion through acts of care or service. Desire is humble but profound. Can have a healing erotic aura.

7° – The Dreamer

Fantasy blends with physicality. You may fall for people you see in dreams, or become fixated on unreachable love.

8° – The Intense One

Powerful, obsessive, and karmic. Sexual desire feels like life-or-death. This is a “soul contract” degree.

9° – The Philosopher’s Flame

You seek spiritual or intellectual meaning in lust. Erotic energy comes through beliefs, ethics, or teaching moments.

10° – The Achiever

You’re drawn to status, control, or “out of reach” lovers. Desire often plays out in public or within goals.

11° – The Rebel Lover

You’re attracted to those who break rules or don’t fit the mold. Unexpected crushes, electric chemistry.

12° – The Channeler

Erotic experiences come through dreams, spiritual rituals, or altered states. You’re a vessel for divine desire.

13° – The Taboo Craver

Attraction to what’s hidden, forbidden, or off-limits. Erotic secrets and forbidden love themes show up here.

14° – The Strategist

You approach love and lust like a game of chess. Erotic energy is cool, clever, and captivating without trying.

15° – The Core Flame

This is the heart of the sign. Passion is pure, magnetic, and undeniable. You embody your desire without shame.

16° – The Mirror

You attract partners who reflect back your deepest desires and fears. Erotic connection often feels like déjà vu.

17° – The Transformer

Sex = transformation. You’re drawn to intense lovers who break you open emotionally or spiritually.

18° – The Underworld Flame

Erotic attraction lives in the shadows. Themes of pain, healing, or power. Deeply karmic and psychic.

19° – The Fated Flame

You experience desire that shifts timelines. The person who changed everything. Love that alters your path.

20° – The Builder of Bondage

You desire loyalty and structure in passion—but can become possessive. Erotic energy is deep and enduring.

21° – The Romantic Muse

Drawn to beauty, music, art, and people who feel poetic. You crave love that inspires you and sets your soul ablaze.

22° – The Wounded Obsession

This degree often brings passion through trauma, survival, or emotional tests. Love becomes a lesson in power and pain.

23° – The Oracle of Desire

You have a sixth sense for soulmates. Erotic visions, downloads, or karmic recognition moments. Lovers as messengers.

24° – The Seductress

Magnetic. You draw in desire with ease—sometimes unknowingly. May attract people who want to possess or claim you.

25° – The Elder Flame

You carry ancient longing. Love feels eternal. Often drawn to older souls, or lovers from past lifetimes.

26° – The Puppeteer

Erotic mind games. You’re skilled at reading others’ desires, and may attract complex dynamics around control or submission.

27° – The Soul Contract

Every lover has a lesson. You don’t fall in love — you fall into soul agreements. This degree holds unfinished business.

28° – The Volcano

Passion builds beneath the surface, then explodes. Deep craving. Can involve betrayal, testing, or fate vs. free will.

29° – The Anaretic Lover (Final Flame)

The most karmic, intense, and climactic degree. You’re here to master desire in this lifetime. Love lessons may be hard, final, or unforgettable.

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writingoddess1125 · 1 year ago

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Simon with his Triplets

Simon and how he is with each of his triplets.

Hazel

• His fighter and his attitude, Wrapped up in the beautiful bundle that was his Hazel.

• Hazel was the most like him in terms of his fighting spirat, While he had simmered down greatly over the years he saw it everyday in his daughter.

• She carried herself with a sense of pride and strength that he couldn't be more proud of.

• Hazel was the defender of the triplets, being the one to fight if anyone dared pick on her other siblings

• Simon had to pick her up from school far too many times for fighting-

• Simon did had to teach her how to control herself, Having to show her different ways to channel her temper- And the best way he found was Boxing

• Simon still kept in shape, not wanting to get weak as time did him in- So he kept up some heavy workouts. So he had the two of them go to the Boxing gym together

• There she blew off steam and trained with him. Well into her late teens she did this picking up MMA as well on her own.

• "Dad I want to go into the military-" She said, firmly as she lowered her arms from the boxing bag. Her fist still in the skull hand gloves he bought her for her 18th birthday. Simon freezing mid set and looked at her-

• "No-" He said simply, before going back to the bag.

• Hazel glared at him but didn't say anything else but went back to the bag herself. Simon assuming the conversation was over.

• He was going through the mail and sees a Royal Marine letter, assuming it's his he opens it and sees its an acceptance letter for Hazel and her date to start basic.

• Was he proud? Of Course

• Was he also angry that she had hidden this from him, went behind his back and disobeyed him? ABSOLUT-FUCKING-ELY

• Him and Hazel have the argument of the centry- But he was able to calm down enough to hear her out and makes her promise that she won't do anything dangerous as a job- She agrees..

• Then immediately goes in for Special Forces Operations like he did and Simon damn near has a stroke and is ready to drag his daughter by home when he learns of this.

Rose

• Rose- His little princess. His sunshine and rainbows child.

• She is the dreamer of the trio, Always imagining new things.

• She is also the artist- Has Simon cleaned enough crayon, paint, pencil from the floors and walls to last a lifetime? Yes- Has he bought thousands of dollars worth of supplies and made his credit card cry.. Absolutely

• But Simon loves every painting, statue and drawing imaginable. Keeping them in his office- Even if he doesn't understand artsy things he will smile and thank Rose

• Rose is also his hiking buddy- The two taking a weekends to explore new hiking trails together. Which he uses to rip his daughter away from the grips of the crows of boys that seemed to drool over his precious girl.

• Due to her naturally bubbly and sweet nature she gets a lot more attention from boys then Simon would like-

• "I don't like the boys that try after you, You know what they want-" He said in a warning tone, already irritated at the idea of them sniffing around his little girl.

• "W-Well...Daddy what would you say if I didn't like the boys either-?" She said softly, almost at a whisper- The irritation Simon felt damn near flying out his body.

• Simon looks at her quietly, trying to gauge her reaction only to see she was doing the same-

• "So- You don't like boys? What about girls?" He asked softly, unsure of any other way or working it. Her cheeks turning a flushed pink at this-

• "I see-" He said calmly, Patting Rose's shoulder as they made it over the steep hill of the hiking trail. The two looking over the beautiful scenery before them

• "Same rules, We have to meet her and her parents and No closed doors" He said simply and with a hint of a smile on his face. Rose smiling as well and nodding-

• Simon is secretly overjoyed to learn his daughter likes girls, he finds it mentally easier. Meets his daughter's girlfriend and will take her along with him hiking.

• She ends up as a Art Teacher, While he didn't understand he absolutely supported it happy she had found her calling.

Johnny

• Johnny is his Mini-Me and his lad.

• Seeing as your genes didn't even fucking try with Johnny it was just like you copy and pasted Simon. Blonde hair, light eyes and only a shade or two darker then his father. Other then that he got nothing from you-

• He adores his Son and feels proud of him everyday he lived and breathes.

• Johnny still refuses to speak, remaining mute but Simon is fairly certain it's by choice which he respects.

• Simon and him sitting next to each other as you argue with Hazel about something stupid, Johnny discreetly reaching up and taking off his hearing-aids to not hear anymore.

• Simon has to suppress a laugh-

• Johnny often goes hunting with Simon, especially since he's the most into the outdoors besides Rose.

• Is oddly a perfect hunter- Has very quiet steps and is smart with a gun.

• Him and Johnny are sitting in some trees waiting for the elk to go by, Johnny staring out into space a bit as he holds his rifle and thinks.

• Simon seeing this grabs a piece of bark and tosses it at him to get his sons attention. 'Whats wrong?' Simon signs, Johnny sighing lightly.

• 'I guess, just thinking-' Johnny signed. Simon nodding his head for the teen to continue.

• 'Do you wish I wasn't deaf? I could have been military like you, I couldn't have done a lot of things. Like speak.. Does it bother you?'

• Simon felt surprised by this- Shaking his head quickly. 'No-'

• 'No- I do not care about if you are deaf or dont speaak, it doesnt matter to me. You are my Son- I'd have never let you go into the military either way, I don't want any of you to experience what I have. I want you to live good lives, and long ones not just for me and your mother. But for your name sake. So no, it doesnt bother me' Simon signed, feeling the burn in his chest at remembering his fallen comrade and his sons namesake.

• Johnny sat there, his hands twitching as he tried to think what to say but couldn't. Instead just smiling softly with a nod, turning back to see some elk coming into the clearing.

• The two hunted in peace that night not a word spoken between the two of them.

• "Why the long hair?" Simon ask, noticing the lack of haircut from his boy in the last few months. Johnny shrugs and signs 'Growing it out, Going to see if I like it'

• Never cuts it again- Much to Simon's annoyance

• When Johnny goes to University for Aero Space Engineering he almost cries- while he understands absolutely nothing his boy is saying to him when talking about his homework

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